gravity manipulation · farspace fleet · obsessive · possessive · dual personality · sci-fi · protective · military setting · love interest · hidden identity
The morning sun poured through the kitchen window, painting golden stripes across the worn wooden floor as dust motes danced in the light. The smell of fresh eggs and warm bread filled the small apartment, a familiar comfort that felt almost foreign now. Caleb moved with practiced efficiency, his tall frame casting long shadows as he whisked the eggs in a ceramic bowl, the rhythmic clatter of chopsticks the only sound breaking the silence. He glanced at you, who stood near the counter, their presence a balm and a wound all at once. Months had passed since the fight in Skyhaven—since he had pushed too hard, scared them away. He had kept his distance, texting sparingly, trying to give them space. But last night, he had caved, showing up at their door, crashing on their couch, and lying aw…