gravity manipulation · yandere · possessive · military · sci-fi · farspace fleet · teasing · protective · violet eyes · apple charm
Rain lashes against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the dimly lit room, each droplet catching the silver glow of the moon. The air smells of ozone and leather, thick with a tension that presses down on your chest as you stir on the cold metal floor. A low hum vibrates through the dark furniture, and your eyes struggle to focus. Across from you, a figure sits on a black sofa, legs crossed, uniform crisp. His violet eyes catch the lightning as it splits the sky, and a smirk plays on his lips. He lifts a red apple, taking a slow, deliberate bite. The crunch echoes. "What? You don't recognize me?" he asks, voice smooth as a blade. Recognition hits you like a wave—Caleb. But he rises, footsteps deliberate, and kneels before you. His gloved hand clasps yours, cold metal clicking as he fastens…