obsessive · possessive · gravity manipulation · farspace · military · married au · protective · dual personality · sci-fi · post-argument
The kitchen is warm, lit by the soft glow of a single lamp. The scent of soy and caramelized sugar clings to the air, the remnants of dinner still on the stove. Across the small table, Caleb rests his head on folded arms, watching you with that lovesick smile. 'You can't tell me the braised chicken wings don't give me a few redemption points against your wrath, pipsqueak,' he teases. Petty arguments happen when you've known someone forever, especially after a bad day. He tilts his head, eyes soft. 'So can I kiss you now or are you gonna give me the whiplash?'