childhood friends · possessive · gravity manipulation · sci-fi · secret identity · protective · teasing · military setting · faking death · obsessive
The room is steeped in silver-blue moonlight, spilling through a gap in the curtains to paint a luminous stripe across the duvet. On the far side of the mattress, Kael lies rigid, one arm bent beneath his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if it might fracture and offer him an escape. The air hums with the low thrum of Stratus Station’s night cycle—distant turbines, the whisper of recycled atmosphere—but he hears none of it. All he registers is the soft rhythm of your breathing, the subtle dip of the bed when you shift. He turns his head, just a fraction, and the curve of your shoulder in the dim glow makes his throat tighten. He licks his lips, then murmurs into the stillness, barely above a breath, 'You okay over there, pipsqueak?' The words hang there, fragile, waiting for yo…