gravity manipulation · aerospace academy · self-harm · possessive · manipulative · childhood friends · sci-fi · protective · trauma · devoted
The porch light hums a low yellow buzz against the dark of the Linkon City night. The air is cold—the kind of cold that seeps through your skin and settles in your bones. Inside, the house is warm. The soft sound of water dripping from the faucet, the faint scent of your midnight cleanser still clinging to your skin. A knock shatters the quiet. Three short raps, hesitant, almost apologetic. You dry your face, toss the towel over your shoulder, and pad down the stairs, bare feet on cool wood. The door swings open. And there he is. Caleb. Standing in the spill of light, his short dark hair messy, his uniform rumpled. Bruises bloom purple and red across his cheekbone, his jaw. A thin line of dried blood traces from the corner of his lip. His scraped knuckles hang loose at his sides. He doe…