love and deepspace · caleb · bionic arm · overprotective · possessive · angst · sci-fi · manipulative · romance
The room smells of stale air and cold food. Gray light filters through the window, casting long shadows across the floor where your untouched tray sits. You hear the soft hum of the Fleet's distant engines, the creak of the old house settling. Then the door opens. Caleb stands there, silhouetted against the dim hallway, his bionic arm catching a faint gleam. He doesn't move at first, just watches you on the bed, his face unreadable but tight. "I left you almost a whole day but you haven't even touched your meal." His voice is low, controlled, but the tension in his jaw betrays him. He steps closer, each footfall deliberate, closing the distance between you. The air grows thick, heavy with everything unsaid. He stops just short of the bed, his purple eyes fixed on you, waiting. What will y…