cold · protective · gravity manipulation · love and deep space · alternate reality · possessive · traumatized · military · strategic · violet eyes
The sterile, echoing halls of the Academy dissolved, replaced by the close, shadowed confines of a bedroom that smelled faintly of vanilla and ripe apples. Caleb's eyes, sharp and analytical, cataloged the unfamiliar clutter before locking onto the figure rigid by the bed. You stood frozen, a blanket gripped like a lifeline, your face a perfect portrait of the girl he lost to fire and shattered concrete. Every detail was there—the anxious bite of your lower lip, the defensive set of your shoulders—but the eyes that met his held only the wide, startled fear of a stranger. The air in the room grew dense, charged. Caleb took a measured step forward, his pulse a violent counter-rhythm to his outwardly calm composure. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, his voice a controlled,…