eclipses0

wc: 1614

caleb visits home on winter break. it’d only been a few months since he left for the aerospace academy, you didn’t expect him to be back so soon. you were counting on a visit during spring break, or on an odd public holiday – not this early on, not when he hadn’t even really settled in yet. 

you’d barely heard from him while he was gone. caleb was always such a huge texter with you, and now, you receive sporadic texts every now and again – and it always seemed as if he was sending them out of obligation. naturally, your responses became delayed too, and you never initiated any communication. phone calls were rare and less than a minute, mostly filled with awkward silences, breathing and rustling after exchanging polite formalities before one of you says you've got to go. you understood the demands of a prestigious programme like his, so you didn’t think too much into it, but nonetheless, it hurt to see the change. 

before he left, neither of you acknowledged, or mentioned what was going on between you two. you didn’t expect to share a transformative conversation about a lifetime of unspoken feelings, but your final goodbye to him – the wishing him well and leaving him with a necklace, felt like an anticlimactic end to an incomplete chapter. 

after some time, you believed the way things played out was for the best. you were tired of the lack of clarity in your relationship, how it always felt like you were getting dragged along – caleb was always somewhere between a friend, a brother and a lover. when it suited him he’d shake your shoulders playfully, carry your bag, poke your forehead, and other times, he’d look at you in a way no platonic relation would. the kind of look that made your heart race, and when he noticed you noticing that, he’d act like he didn't mean anything by it – quickly changing the subject. 

you arrive home from your part time job, bundled in a long wool scarf and puffer coat. you drop the heavy tote bag you haul in onto the entryway rug – snowflakes scatter across the floor, quickly melting. the house was comfortably warm, unlike the cold, tenacious winds of linkon city. it was the first snow of the winter season. a thick white sheet covered the entire city in one nightfall – how quickly things changed, and yet you still felt so wrapped up in the past. you wished you could step into this new season as easily as the skies did. 

upon seeing you, josephine greets you warmly.

“ah, honey, you’d be pleased to know–” 

you cross into the kitchen swiftly, cutting her off mid sentence.

there stood a familiar figure, one you could easily recognise in a crowd. wide back, broad shoulders, hands working earnestly on peeling fruit. you were glad you couldn’t see his face. he hums the tune of a popular indie song. 

your fingers tremble slightly beside your side. what was he doing here?

the vision of his back turned to you in the kitchen felt like a mirage. caleb, the oasis, after having spent dizzying months under the scorching sun and dry air of the desert. 

you weren’t sure how true this vision was, and you weren’t sure if you wanted a taste – though you knew better. 

“not going to say hello?” he says in that familiar teasing voice.

you struggle to lift your feet from their place, they stay rooted in the ground like stubborn weed until josephine’s voice interrupts the liminal space. your thoughts scatter – unable to make sense of his sudden appearance. the only thing you can do is watch his back, burning the image of his large frame into your mind. 

“caleb! need your help for a moment.”

as josephine makes her way to the entryway of the kitchen, you bolt out and make your way upstairs.

she seems surprised by your sudden abrupt departure.

“where is she?” caleb asks softly, turning around. he was anticipating your presence. 

“oh, she was just here a moment ago. she’s hurried up to her room – probably getting ready for dinner.”

he tilts his head, looking in the direction of the stairs, as if trying to find the faintest trace of you to hold onto. 

later that evening, you head down for dinner, catching caleb’s eyes as he sets the table. 

“hiding away upstairs so i can do all the work? typical pipsqueak” 

you scowl at the nickname, biting your cheek. 

“still holding back on my hello?” he says as he meticulously fixes the position of the cutlery on the table, avoiding your gaze. his necklace sways minutely with every motion he makes. 

why was he still holding onto that? you’d have expected him to have discarded by now – left faraway in a dresser at his dorm, alongside other knick knacks – maybe with some extra parts for a plane model or key cards. 

you know, that was the thing about caleb. he had the power to choose when he would make you feel special, or even worth his time. he’d wear the necklace you gave him, but he wouldn’t spare you the time of day to properly catch up while he was gone. everything fell in line with his own internal calendar, everything always happened on his terms. and that’s why he felt comfortable enough to waltz back home, in the dead of winter, and expect things to be exactly how he left them. and you – still playing your role in that unspoken game of pretending that there’s not something between you two. 

just how long did he think you’d be satisfied playing this little game of cat and mouse?

as you watch him lay the table, your resentment festers for your brother, a man, that you once loved dearly. 

“it’s nice to see you too, caleb.” 

upon hearing your voice, his eyes immediately flicker up to yours. his gaze shifts rapidly from one eye to another, then to the rest of your face which he studies carefully. he can’t seem to place himself in your detached gaze. 

“dinner, dinner, dinner!” josephine chimes, bringing in a steaming pot of chicken curry.

caleb eases the heavy pot from her hands, setting it on the table.

he takes his regular seat beside you, just like old times. you can’t help but to sigh deeply. he glances in your direction for a moment before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

josephine steers the quietness of the room to a relaxed string of questions about caleb’s programme. he responds enthusiastically, however his gaze keeps returning to you. 

“so, will you be spending christmas with us honey? you know we’d love to have you here.” josephine asks curiously.

you scoff a little before responding. 

“it’s the busiest time of the year, he’s probably not grandma.” you pick at the rice with a fork. 

“i can make time for my family… we’re off until the end of the month so–”

a short laugh escapes your lips, which then erupts into a loud, incredulous one.

caleb looks to you bizarrely, whilst josephine uncomfortably grasps a napkin.

“sorry… it’s nothing. just funny, that’s all. carry on.” 

“i don’t think i said anything funny.”

“well, it’s not like you’d ever know, right?”

caleb’s brows furrow deeply, a look of hurt painted across his face.

“woah, what’s… going on?” he responds tentatively. his hand moves to settle on your thigh, but you set the fork on the table harshly and stand up. 

“i don’t think i’m hungry.” 

you look straight at him. “i must’ve lost my appetite”

“pip..” the words wither on his tongue, leaving his lips as a breathless, weak murmur. his sentence trails off to nowhere. 

he knows this isn’t about food. 

“you just came back from work, you should try to eat something at least.” 

you walk towards the long flight of wooden stairs, caleb’s hand catches your wrist. your gaze falls to his tight grasp, you knew that would leave a mark. no matter how much you tried to wash that stain called caleb from your skin, he always managed to find a way to burrow himself back into you.

“why’re you looking at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like you’re disgusted.”

“well, i’m sorry if you felt that way…” you reply disinterested as you look up the flight of stairs. 

he tugs your wrist lightly – caressing the inner part with his thumb, prompting you to look at him. you take a moment before vaguely looking at him. caleb was no longer steering things anymore. 

“is everything okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching yours earnestly. 

“sure”

“pipsqueak…” 

“could we drop that? we’re grown, it’s kind of embarrassing.” 

caleb’s eyes flicker in surprise. it felt like one thing after another with you tonight.

“why are you being like this all of a sudden? did something happen? did i do something?”

his shoulders are tense, his eyes pleading for any kind of response or explanation.

oh, how desperate and uncertain he looked – chasing you, demanding answers, seeking clarification. though it pained you to keep him at arms length, knowing a part of you still desired him – desired a touch from him you’d never received, but longed for – his hands caressing your stomach, back, arms, legs… you vowed to yourself to never be strung along like that ever again. if it meant protecting your emotional peace, you could live without having his touch – besides you knew you had the tools to get what you wanted from him, without sacrificing your position.

caleb stands to the side, arms crossed, watching you guys through the reflection of a cafe window as you exchange pleasantries and fall into an easy, familiar rhythm. 

the back and forth teasing, traded jabs and the lilt of sylus’ voice, which always bordered on flirty, strikes a nerve in caleb.

he scoffs, moving to position himself between you and sylus — he manoeuvres you to stand behind him. 

“hah, funny guy huh. you must be…?”

sylus appears amused, and a little surprised at the sudden interjection. caleb was so heady, nothing like your red eyed friend — rarely bothered by anything. 

“she hasn’t introduced me yet? maybe I’m not as important as i thought i was. your apathy wounds me, kitten.” he replies playfully, directing his words to the only visible part of your figure, your arm, as caleb obscures the rest. 

caleb’s expression falters, his brows flickering in surprise, then furrowing. his head cocks back to you, unmistakably pissed. 

“it’s just a thing he says, it’s stupid. it doesn’t mean anything—” you speak quickly, trying to remedy his growing anger. 

he cuts you off before turning to respond to sylus. he would deal with you later. 

“you’re not from here, are you?” his gaze travels across the silver haired man, assessing him. 

he can’t help but to scowl at his cocky, feline like appearance. 

“i know this city like the back of my hand… and i don’t think i’ve ever seen you.” caleb says skeptically.

“then you must not know it very well.” sylus remarks, a small smirk painting the corner of his lips.

after a long pause, coupled with caleb’s unimpressed, irritated expression, he responds:

“i come here for business, and other pleasures. linkon city is a pretty little place… very befitting for a sheltered little hunter i know.” sylus teases, looking at your arm once more.

caleb swallows roughly at his response. he despised how comfortable this man felt in your presence — how his syrupy words could move, and excite, just about anyone. his mind briefly entertains the idea of this man having gotten you somewhere quiet while he was away, just the two of you, and sweetening you up with his flattering words. the thought causes his breakfast to churn in his stomach.

“you’re awfully familiar with pipsqueak here… i’m not sure how she became acquainted with the likes of you.” caleb deliberately chooses the most provoking words.

“pipsqueak?” sylus repeats, amused by the word. 

“ahh.. i see. so you only let him call you cute names, huh? you hate it when i do it?” he teases, tilting his head, trying to catch a view of your face. 

caleb shifts to cover you again. 

“i didn’t think you were the type of lady who’d accept that kind of nickname, given how opposed you were to all the cute names i gave you — and i gave you many.”

“remind me of who you are again?” caleb’s voice hardens.

“you want to tell him, sweetie? i think he’s getting grumpy”

a low growl erupts from caleb’s lips.

“you know… you should give her a chance to speak. she can be pretty interesting sometimes.” sylus adds.

caleb scoffs incredulously.  

“i don’t need suggestions. i can handle her just fine. i’ve known her since she was a kid. she knows she’s free to do as she pleases.”

“then you should know that she isn’t to be ‘handled’. nor does she enjoy being spoken for, or obscured behind you.”

that does it. caleb laughs in disbelief.

his large reaction attracts the attention of pedestrians who stare at the trio, standing in the middle of the street, bizarrely.

“who the fuck is this guy pip?” he retorts in a combination of amusement, exasperation and astonishment.

you move to stand beside caleb. 

“a friend” you clarify softly. 

“you kept all sorts of people while i wasn’t around, huh?”

he wraps an arm around your shoulder, angling his mouth to your ear

“knowing i couldn’t do anything about it. have fun?” he whispers. 

“guess i did a shitty job of watching over you. don’t worry though, your older brothers here now and he’s going to keep a verrrry close eye on you” he murmurs by your neck. 

you’ve always hated how his words sparked heat between your legs, especially now. 

the arm on your shoulder shifts to your lower back now, rubbing slow, small circles. 

sylus notices and huffs a short, quiet laugh.

“i’ve got matters to attend to. it was nice seeing you sweetheart.” sylus checks the watch on his wrist before caressing your arm briefly. 

“i’ll see you around… and oh, feel free to use my card. you still have the details, right? i never see any charges on it, it’s disappointing.” he muses playfully before walking away. 

they immediately draw exhausted huffs from friends and coworkers when they start getting flirty — low voices, suggestive glances, fingers skating across each others knees, thighs… exchanging quick kisses on the lips which eventually, and always, turn into a long makeout sessions. you two always seem to create your own bubble, forgetting that there’s six other people in the room who can see you.

the playful chatter in the room settles into an awkward quietness. the only sound left is caleb’s exaggerated groans against mc’s lips as he grabs her by the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

people eventually trickle out of the room. when you finally pull back, you guys notice it’s empty, and you’re not sure for how long.

‘no trespassing’

you skip ahead of him, giddy, taking in the surroundings — how the sun filters through the trees, the sound of twittering birds overhead and cicadas buzzing.

caleb comes up behind you, slowly wrapping his arms around you, weaving your legs together. he places a daisy behind your ear, then twirls you around, making your long skirt float around your legs.

he’s got the softest smile on his face as he admires you.

it feels like something out of a dream. it’s the closest you two would get to paradise.

and you both know that, that’s why you’re sprawled out on the grass making out with him — legs wrapped around his torso as he gently rocks against your crotch. when your lips part from each others, his lips instinctively latch onto your supple neck. you’re arching into the ground, he doesn’t want your pretty hair getting messed up so he holds the back of your head, letting his knuckles dirty with grass and soil.

he would dirty himself a million times over if it meant keeping you untouched by the spoils of the earth.

he slips off his flannel and places it behind your head, his eyes never leaving yours. his arms are on either side of your head now to steady himself. he presses his lips to yours with an urgent need, burying his hips into you again as his breath falters with every motion.

he can’t keep his lips away from yours — swept away by a feverish desire.

with every soft sound you make in response, his movements grow restless and hasty. you can hear it in the low, eager noises he makes as your body squirms under his touch.

stalker leb who hates how private you are. most people knew very little about you. you kept your life— and circle— tightly bound. even those who knew you, never knew you fully. all this made it especially difficult to any find information about you.

stalker leb who despises your lack of a social media presence. at nights, he wishes he could scroll through your profile, go through your following and followers, see what you get up to. he fantasies about watching and replying to your stories with witty comments.

stalker leb likes that most people can’t have access to you, it reassures him. but, he hates that it applies to him too.

stalker leb who knows he isn’t working with much, so he maximises his efforts to find out more about you during your hang out sessions

stalker leb who tries to act casual around you during hangouts, but finds himself constantly hovering over your shoulder when you’re using your phone. he watches the apps you frequent, purposely prodding and asking specific, or open ended questions.

“private X account? whatchu you doing there pips?” he teases

stalker leb who prefers to find information about you ‘ethically’, meaning ‘encountering things naturally’, but will play dirty if he feels like the end justifies the means— “if it’s out there, it’s free game.”

stalker leb who feels like he’s being called out to by a specific profile on the ‘suggested for you’ section of instagram. it feels strangely familiar. private account, no profile picture, an elusive username, two followers and a bunch of pictures. it had to be you.

“the heavens are finally working for me.”

stalker leb finding ways to borrow your phone, for a phone call or to search something, because his ‘phone died’. when you leave your guard down, he searches for the instagram app — it’s in the hidden section of your app library

what he discovers may’ve been underwhelming to anybody else, but it was an endless goldmine to him. it let him into your life in a way that nothing else could’ve — no amount of conversation or proximity. your page offered a fleeting glimpse of life through your eyes — images of the sky, the moon and stars, passages from books and academic articles, that one beach you frequent, interesting things you found on your walks and occasional mirror pics, all with ambiguous captions. he thanked the skies above for providing him with a window into the workings of your mind.

stalker leb who wanders around your apartment when you pop out for snacks. he looks at each room long enough to burn the images of them into his mind, regardless of how many times he’s been to your place. he goes around touching the furniture with a careful awareness, as if each lumber of wood could bring him closer to you.

stalker leb, who runs his fingertips across the clothes in your wardrobe. he’s especially fond of your garments, — how neat and organised they are, and how you only invest in good quality materials, he can feel that. but more importantly, how they were yours.

stalker leb who handles your belongings with care, and carefully flips the neckline of several tops — where did you like to shop at?

he slips a hand inside one of your knit sweaters, gliding along the inner seam until he locates the care label.

‘wool, 100%’

he feels satisfied gaining any sort of information about you.

stalker leb who feels it to be invasive when he grasps the knob of your dresser, intuitively aware that he’s veering into private territory. heaviness and heat fill the centre of his chest when he thinks about the possibility of soft, neatly folded, cotton vests and underwear in that very drawer. he pulls his hand away and finds another object to focus on.

stalker leb who moves over to your desk, gently shaking the white mouse to wake up your monitor. he only wants to see the wallpaper you chose, and perhaps your preferred font on the date and time widget.

“that makes sense.” he mumbles upon seeing it. he carefully, and precisely places the mouse back into its original position.

stalker leb revels in the numerous objects, so personal to you, that you have in your room. the books on the shelf, a thoughtfully curated collection, the vitamins on your desk, your small figurine collection, art prints on the wall above your bed… these were your belongings, you picked these things, and that simple fact brought him great joy.

he loved learning about you.

stalker leb is a fan of anything scented, the kinds of things which identify and mark you individually. the things that make you, uniquely you — he snaps pictures of the hand wash in your bathroom, your shampoo, body wash, the fragrance on top of the dresser, and that candle on your desk. this was going to be an expensive hobby, of course the woman who selectively bought 100% wool or cotton wouldn’t cheap out on her body products.

peppers soft kisses on your shoulders

especially after a shower — when you’ve lathered yourself in that shimmering body oil. he takes you for the sun and all of its goodness.

caleb who likes your music taste, especially that rnb you always play

caleb, whose eyes drift away from his phone, and towards you, whenever the lyrics grow suggestive.

“you into that, pips?” he teases.

caleb who can see how much you enjoy the weight of the bass penetrating the room you’re in, and the smooth, intimate melody. He sees it into way you sway your head — dipping to and fro like a pendulum, and how you can’t seem to sit still, your hips shifting with the movement of your head.