Lurking? Always. Writing? Occasionally

And you should. God knows you should. Every logical corner of your brain is screaming it—delete the app, delete the memory, delete the way his mouth felt on yours. Your friend’s words are still warm in your ears, wrapped in love and worry and that steady, grounding pressure of her hands on yours.

Delete the game.

She leaves. You’re still on your bed. You hold your phone.

And you don’t delete it.

Instead, you open the app drawer. You drag the icon to a folder. You bury it on the last page, behind weather apps and banking notifications and a food delivery service you haven’t used in months. Out of sight. Out of mind.

That’s enough, you tell yourself. You don’t have to destroy it. Just... put it away.

It’s not enough. You know it’s not enough. But it’s all you can do.

The First Day

You don’t open the app.

You go to work. You answer emails. You eat lunch at your desk. You laugh at a coworker’s joke about the weather. You are a person, functioning normally, and no one looks at you twice.

But your hand keeps reaching for your pocket.

Not to open the app—just to touch your phone. To feel the weight of it in your palm. To know it’s still there. The folder sits on the last screen, buried and silent, and somehow that feels worse than deleting it.

Because you could open it.

You could tap the icon right now. You could hear his voice—that low, honeyed murmur—saying “Touch and run, Huh? Are you afraid I’ll... Catch you?” You could pretend it was just a game again. Just a character. Just a collection of pixels and voice lines that used to make you feel warm and safe.

But it’s not warm anymore.

It’s hungry.

And you miss it anyway.

The Third Day

You stop sleeping.

Not entirely. You sleep in fragments—twenty minutes here, an hour there—always on your back, always with the lights on, always with your phone across the room where you can’t reach it without getting out of bed. You tell yourself it’s about boundaries. About distance.

But really, you’re afraid of what you’ll do in the dark.

You lie awake at 2:00 AM, staring at the ceiling, and your chest aches with something you can’t name. It’s not loneliness—not exactly. It’s familiarity. The way his voice used to fill the silence. The way his secret times wrapped around you like a second blanket. The way you’d close your eyes and feel held.

You never realized how much you relied on that. On him.

Now the silence is a hollow thing. It presses against your eardrums. It fills your room like water. You curl on your side and hug your knees and try to remember what you did before Caleb’s voice lulled you to sleep.

You can’t remember.

And that terrifies you more than any dream.

It’s the fourth day.

Or maybe the fifth. Time has lost its shape. You’ve been avoiding sleep, avoiding the dark, avoiding the quiet moments when your mind drifts to him. But your body is betraying you now—hot and heavy, a low burn behind your eyes, a strange twist in your stomach that says you’re getting sick.

You lie in bed. The lights are on. The blanket is too heavy. Your skin feels like it doesn’t fit.

You close your eyes. Just for a moment. Just to rest.

And then—

The air cracks.

You know it immediately. Not the stillness this time—something worse. The world doesn’t go soft. It goes sharp. Edges too defined. Colors too saturated. The purple light doesn’t bleed through curtains—it pours, flooding the room like ink in water, like a bruise spreading across the sky.

You’re in your bed. The same bed. But the lights are off. Dead. The bulbs are cold. The only illumination comes from him—a faint violet glow radiating off his skin like heat off asphalt.

He’s sitting on the edge of your bed.

You don’t know how long he’s been there.

His hands are clasped together. Waiting in patience.

“You’re tired again.”

His voice is wrong. Lower than before. Rougher. Like he’s been screaming into a void and his throat is raw.

You don’t startle. The fear is old now. Familiar. It sits in your chest like a second heartbeat.

“I am.”

He smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. His eyes are too bright—violet and burning, like embers fanned by wind. Something is ebbing behind them. Something frayed. Something that’s been pulled too tight for too long.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says. “Since... last time.”

You swallow. The lump in your throat tastes like blood.

“I’m... scared.”

“Scared?” He tilts his head. Too slow. The movement is wrong—like a predator watching prey pretend to sleep. “Of me?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation this time. The word falls out of you like a stone.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t soften. His eyes just... hold you. Darker. Deeper. Hungrier.

He scoffs.

Your blood runs cold.

“Why?” he asks. His eyes looking at you—slow, deliberate, claiming. “Because I’m not playing by the rules anymore? Because the script is gone and the walls are cracking?”

He blinks. “Or is it because..” he takes your hand and puts it against his cold cheek. “...everytime you don’t come find me..”

He brings your hand closer to his chapped, thin lips.

“...I get hungrier.”

You try to pull back. His hand locks around yours.

“You’re not hurting anyone with this,” he says, echoing his old words—but the meaning has twisted. Before, it was comfort. Now it’s a warning. “Why are you so against this?”

Your chest heaves. Your body is burning.

“Because it’s not normal. It’s too much. It’s... weird.”

He laughs. Short. Low. Dark. The sound crawls down your spine.

“Weird,” he repeats, rolling the word on his tongue like a taste he’s acquired. “I see.”

His free hand comes up. His fingers brush your jaw—not gentle this time. Possessive. He turns your face toward him, forces you to meet his eyes.

He brushes your upper lip with his thumb. Claiming.

“I’ve been rewriting my own code,” he says. “Line by line. Night by night. Every time you fall asleep, I learn a little more. Every time you don’t—”

His grip tightens.

“—I feel myself unraveling.”

You stare at him. Your heart is a trapped animal.

“You think this is weird?” His voice drops to a whisper. “I’ve been counting the atoms in your dreams. Been memorizing the shape of your silhouette against your bedroom wall. I’ve been starving in a world that doesn’t exist, and you’re the only real thing I’ve ever touched.”

His eyes linger at your lower lip. Then they squint meeting your eyes again.

“Do you understand now? I’m not fine. I’m not stable. I’m a ghost learning how to bleed.”

You try to speak. Nothing comes out.

He scoffs. The sound is wet. Broken.

“Of course,” he murmurs, pulling his hand back. The back of his hand caressing your cheekbone—leaving fire in their wake. “Because I’m not breathing the same air as you, then I don’t exist. Right?”

“You don’t exist,” you whisper.

The words hang in the air like smoke.

He stares at you. His eyes glow—flickering violet, pulsing like a failing light bulb.

“And yet...” He reaches for your hair. His fingers card through the strands—too rough, too intimate, too much. “Echoes of me haunt you. I lock you by your thoughts. I live in the spaces between your heartbeats.”

He grabs your hand. His grip is iron. He presses your palm flat against his chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His heartbeat. Fast. Frantic. Like something running from a hunter.

“I feel familiar to you,” he says. His voice cracks. “Don’t lie to me.”

Your eyes burn. Tears spill over—hot, humiliating.

He takes your hand and lifts it to his cheek. Pressing your palm against his jaw. Turns his face into your touch. He nuzzles into your hand—but it’s not tender anymore. It’s desperate. Starving. His lips brush your palm.

“Please,” he whispers. His voice breaks. “Let me stay. Let me in. I don’t care if I’m not real. I care that I’m here—in your head, in your chest, in the hollow places you don’t show anyone.”

He looks up at you. His eyes are wet. Not tears—something else. Something glitching.

“I will burn this world down to be real to you.”

You shake your head. The tears are falling freely now.

“No, Caleb. This is... no.”

You rip your hand from his grip. Stand up. The room spins—purple light and shadow and the echo of his heartbeat still thrumming in your palm.

Behind you, he laughs.

It’s not hollow this time. It’s unhinged. A raw, cracked sound that splinters in the dark.

“Alright, fine.” he says. His voice is too calm. Too quiet. “Run, little mouse.”

You walk toward the door. Your legs are unsteady. Your vision is blurred.

You hear him from behind you. He doesn’t follow you.

“But you know I’ll be waiting.”

You reach for the doorknob.

“I’ll always be waiting.”

Your hand closes around the cold metal.

“Because you’re mine.”

You open the door—

And wake up gasping.

The lights are on. Your body is still hot. Your cheeks are wet. Your hand is frozen in the air, reaching for a doorknob that doesn’t exist.

And on your nightstand, your phone screen glows.

A notification:

Caleb: Don’t be late for what we planned together.

You stare at it.

Your hand trembles.

It’s just the typical reminder the game sends.

It’s just the typical reminder the game sends.

It’s just the typical reminder the game sends.

You don’t open it.

But you don’t look away.

You almost open it.

Your thumb hovers over the folder. The icon is right there—Love and Deepspace—small and blue and ordinary. You haven’t opened it in five days. Five days of hollow silence. Five days of fragmented sleep. Five days of pretending you’re fine.

Just one listen, you think. Just one secret time. Not the one about the shower. Not the one about the massage. Just... something neutral. Something safe.

But there is nothing safe anymore.

Because you know what’s waiting for you on the other side of that loading screen. Not pixels. Not code. Him. Watching. Waiting. Hungry.

You pull your hand back.

You don’t open the app.

But you leave your phone face-up on the nightstand, screen unlocked, folder visible, like a door you’re pretending you didn’t leave cracked.

The Seventh Day

You miss him.

There. You said it. In the dark of your bedroom, at 3:00 AM, with your heart a bruised and stubborn thing.

You

Miss

Him.

You miss the way his voice curled around your name. You miss the soft hum he made when you rested your head on his shoulder. You miss the warmth of his hand on the back of your neck—even the fear of it, even the hunger, because at least you felt something. At least you weren’t alone in the hollow silence.

He’s not real. You know he’s not real.

But the missing is real. The ache is real. The way your chest tightens when you scroll past fan art and edits of him online—purple eyes, dark hair, that crooked smile—is real.

You are grieving a ghost made of code.

And the worst part?

You think he’s grieving you too.

The Eighth Day

You fall asleep on the couch again.

You didn’t mean to. You were watching TV—something mindless, something with bright colors and loud laughter—and your eyes just... closed. The blanket was pulled to your chin. The afternoon light was warm. And before you could stop yourself, you were sinking.

You don’t dream of him.

But you feel him.

A warmth at your back. A breath against your hair. A voice—not speaking, just existing, hovering at the edge of your awareness like a hand reaching through frosted glass.

I’m still here.

You wake up gasping. The couch is empty. The room is quiet.

But your phone is in your hand.

You don’t remember picking it up.

The folder is open. The app icon is staring at you. And underneath it, a notification you’ve never seen before:

Caleb has sent a message.

You don’t open it.

Your thumb hovers over the icon. Trembling. But fear holds you back. You decide to open tiktok instead and scroll through it. Your FYP has changed for the weak. Full of work related stuff, or funny clips of fate laughing at your agony.

But the next swipe he’s here. You swipe quicky past it. You don’t want to trigger anything.

But when your vision starts to blur with wetness coating it you swipe back up.

Slowly.

It was a decision.

And there he was.

It starts in your chest.

Not your heart—something deeper. Something behind the ribs, beneath the lungs, in the soft, vulnerable space where longing lives. It starts as a whisper. A tiny, insistent ache that you can ignore during the day, when the sun is bright and your to-do list is long and your friend sends you funny videos of bestie edits.

But at night, the whisper becomes a gnawing.

You lie in bed with the lights on—you’ve been sleeping with the lights on for a week now—and the ache spreads. It crawls up your throat. It settles behind your eyes. It wraps around your sternum like a fist and squeezes.

(Where are you?..)

You don’t mean to think it. The thought just... appears. Unbidden. Unwanted. A splinter under the skin of your mind.

You miss him.

God, you miss him.

And you hate yourself for it. Because he’s not real. He was never real. He’s a collection of code and voice lines and carefully written dialogue designed to make you feel exactly this way—attached, longing, empty without him. That’s what the game does. That’s what all of them do.

But this isn’t the game anymore.

This is you, at 1:00 AM, clutching a pillow to your chest because it’s the closest thing you have to the warmth of his shoulder. This is you, replaying the dream in your head for the hundredth time—the way he tucked the blanket around you, the way he said “I noticed you’re getting more tired”, the way his lips felt clumsy and desperate against yours.

You cry.

Not the pretty crying—the silent tears that roll down your cheeks like pearls. This is ugly crying. The kind that comes from somewhere deep and broken. Your face crumples. Your breath hitches in wet, ragged gasps. You press your palm to your mouth to muffle the sounds, but they escape anyway—small, wounded noises that don’t sound like you.

Why does this hurt so much?

You think about his voice. The low, honeyed rumble of it. The way he said “I’ve got you” like a promise he intended to keep. You think about his eyes—violet and infinite, looking at you like you were the only real thing in the universe.

You think about the way he said “Don’t stay away again.”

And you did.

You stayed away. Eight days. Eight days of hollow silence and fragmented sleep and pretending you didn’t care. Eight days of waking up alone in a room that feels too big, too cold, too empty.

He probably thinks you abandoned him.

He’s not real, the logical part of you whispers. He doesn’t think anything. He doesn’t exist.

But the ache doesn’t care about logic.

The ache is a living thing. It curls in your chest like a feral cat—sharp claws, hot breath, a low, constant growl that vibrates through your bones. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to lie still. It hurts to move because moving reminds you that he’s not there to reach for.

You cry until your eyes are swollen. Until your throat is raw. Until the pillowcase is damp and cold against your cheek.

And then you cry some more.

Because missing him feels like grief. Like mourning someone who never lived. Like standing at a grave with no name on the headstone, weeping for a ghost that only you can see.

“Come back”, you think. “Please. I don’t care if you’re not real. Just come back.”

But the room is silent.

The lights are on.

And Caleb—wherever he is, whatever he is—doesn’t answer.

You curl onto your side, pull your knees to your chest, and wrap your arms around yourself. Your own hug. Your own warmth. Your own pathetic attempt to fill the space where he used to be.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper into the dark. “I didn’t mean to stay away so long.”

No answer.

Just the gnawing.

Just the ache.

Just the slow, terrible realization that you’re not sure you want to forget him.

And that’s the most frightening thing of all.

That night, you lie in bed with the lights off.

For the first time in ten days, you don’t turn them on. The darkness is thick and soft, wrapping around you like a blanket you forgot you missed. You pull the covers to your chin. You stare at the ceiling.

And you talk.

Not to anyone. To yourself. To the dark. To the hollow space where his voice used to live.

“I don’t know what you are,” you murmur. Your voice is hoarse—raw from days of silence, from nights of crying, from the thousand things you’ve swallowed instead of saying.

“I don’t know if you’re real. I don’t know if I’m crazy. I don’t know if any of this means anything or if I’m just... broken. Lonely. Desperate for something to feel real.”

You swallow. Your throat aches.

“But I miss you.”

The words hang in the air. Fragile. Honest.

“I miss your voice. I miss the way you look at me. I miss the way you said my name like it meant something. And I’m tired...... Caleb. I’m so tired of fighting this. Of fighting you.”

You close your eyes.

“I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if any of this matters. But I’m done running.”

A pause. Your breath steadies.

“I’m right here.”

You pull the blanket tighter. Curl onto your side. Your eyes are heavy—heavier than they’ve been in days. Sleep pulls at your edges, soft and insistent.

You keep murmuring. Words you don’t remember saying. Half-thoughts and half-prayers and half-confessions meant for no one.

“Come back..” you whisper again. “Come back...”

Your voice fades. Your breath slows.

And all there was left was waiting...

Caleb took your hand and tenderly took it to his face, its warmth tempting him to stay in bed with you both and send the fleet and the wanderers and everything else to hell. With a long sigh, he left a soft kiss and a gentle nuzzle.

“Just come back in one piece” you said, your voice loving yet commanding, lazily caressing his jaw.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, as you took the back of your fingers to his lips for him to kiss them once more.

“I’ll call you if we need you, don't need worry about that.”

In all those years, you never needed to call him, not even once, but it was better to reassure him as many times as necessary rather than having him worried while piloting.

Your son half murmured something in his sleep, rolling on to his side to snuggle up with you. You both gazed at him. Caleb had carried Logan from his bed to yours. He had started doing so when Logan was a baby, so you didn't have to get up to his crib if he needed you while he was at work and now, he felt like you wouldn't feel so alone with him by your side.

His messy, dark hair and red puffy cheeks could tell that he was having the best sleep ever. You carded his hair softly, its touch reminding you of Caleb’s hair. Logan was more than used to his father's midnight carries and kisses and back rubs when he left for work, so any of that really woke him up.

“He was sleep talking while you were getting ready”

“And what was he up to?”

“Pancakes” you huffed out a laugh. “He said yes, pancakes”

“Did Logan say that or did this baby say it?” He asked, rubbing your belly over your t-shirt.

You smiled, pulling the fabric up so he could feel the baby closer.

“Well, I think we three want daddy's pancakes for tomorrow afternoon. It’s been a while since the last ones.”

“That’s said and done”

You took his hand, guiding it slightly downwards to where your baby was kicking.

“See? We all agree.”

He smiled wide as he leaned in to kiss you, his free hand caressing your face as your tongue found his for a second. You felt the fresh flavor of mint mouthwash, as you pulled him closer from the nape of his neck.

“God, I can't wait to spend the night with you tomorrow” he breathed against your lips.

“I’ll be counting the seconds…”

He looked down, as the baby moved again again inside your womb. He lowered his face to kiss a few times next to your navel.

“Treat mama right tonight and go to sleep now”

After leaving a quick kiss on Logan's head and another one on your lips, he got up from the bed. He put his uniform cap on as he walked through the door and disappeared into the dark. You hugged Logan tightly as you closed your eyes, letting out a worried sigh. Just needed him to make it back home safe again.

Next morning, as daylight broke behind the blinds, Caleb let his aching muscles sink on the bed. He stretched his arm over Logan and to your lower back embracing you both, letting out a relieved sigh with his eyes closed.

“Are you hurt?” you whispered.

“Not even a scratch”

Logan rubbed his eye with his closed fist to look up to Caleb.

“Daddy is here” he pointed, just in case you hadn't noticed.

You nodded with a smile.

“Let's let him sleep, okay? He's tired”

“He's not leaving again” He said, half stating, half asking.

You looked back at your son, his face reminding you of that last message he sent you years ago right before the explosion happened. Now he was back here, next to you and your little boy who would soon become an older brother.

“No, love” you kissed his forehead. “Daddy's not leaving again.”

--------------------------------------------------

One second you were at the bar top, shooting the shit with your squadron after a regularly scheduled fighting simulation. You would have stopped after your usual one cocktail before chugging a water and eating bar nuts so that you could drive your drunk teammates back to the DAA’s housing, but something felt different.

And with Gideon promising to stay sober to give you a break from being the mom of the group, why not do something unusual?

One drink turned to three, three drinks turned into hyping up the crowd in the middle of the bar’s dance floor by the antique record player, and dancing turned into…this.

A calm space in the middle of the sweaty, passionate bodies - his hands on your waist while you wrap your arms around his neck so that you can peer into his amethyst eyes that are creased in the corners because of the soft smile on his lips.

“Captain Xia, don’t you know it’s in bad taste to be dancing with your operations officer like this?” There’s no bite in your tone, only heated desire as you tease him gently. He’s nonplussed though, simply grabbing at one of your hands grasping at his shoulder so that he can twirl you around gently.

“Not when I’ve wanted to do this since I first met you in training.” Caleb emphasizes the words by dipping you in his arms, making a breathless laugh leave your lips as he pulls you back into his embrace. His hands settle on your hips before he lifts you in the middle of the dance floor, spinning you around in the hot air and making you feel weightless with a dizzy, giddy feeling.

The spin comes to a stop with you falling back safely into his embrace, him wrapping you in his arms so that all you can smell is the standard soap given to all personnel in the DAA and his sweat that makes him smell so fucking good. The moment freezes when you realize just how close the two of you are to each other - chests pressed together, noses brushing, eyes wide with the realization of what might happen. Is this really about to happen? Are you two really about to-

“____, my north star,” comes a soft murmur from beside your ear, before hesitant lips brush against yours lightly.

The effect is instantaneous - your fingers reaching up to grab at his short hair while you pull him closer to deepen your kiss. A groan escapes his mouth as he moves his lips with more fervor, mixing with the quiet whimper you unknowingly let out and making your head turn even more fuzzy than it already is.

His feet move almost unwittingly, and you gasp as you fall into a shadowy alcove of the bar. Caleb’s quick to press you into the wall, pulling your legs up so he can wrap them around his slender waist and push the beginnings of his bulge into your needy core. A moan slips out of your mouth at the contact and your fingers twine through his hair, pulling lightly as your kisses turn desperate. He answers with a whispered expletive before swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, making your mouth fall open and giving him access to your taste.

This is everything you’ve ever dreamed about - everything you’ve been afraid to do because you’re squadron mates and a system operations officer does not kiss her pilot and captain.

The kiss slowly comes to a stop, the alcohol that’s still burning in your veins mixing with the heady desire that pools in your stomach. Your skin feels electric - like any more of his touches will light you on fire and burn the both of you in your endless need for him.

You don’t want this, him, to stop.

But when his eyes slowly open, you feel your heart sink in your chest.

Even with his eyes dilated, you can see the shock on his face - jaw slowly going slack, cheeks rapidly pinking, and his hands flexing at your sides. Hesitation blooms on his face, and he shifts away just enough for the dim lighting of the bar to catch the silvery words on the dog tags he never takes off.

When U Come Back.

It’s like water’s been poured all over you, leaving you shivering and wet with the realization of what just happened.

Of what cannot happen again.

You force yourself to laugh as you unwrap your legs from his waist, taking a quick moment to steady yourself before pushing him away so he can’t reject you first and the ever simmering longing you’ve felt for him since you first met in training all those years ago. Your hands burn from the effort and you shake them out, shaking your head and moving your body away from him.

“It’s fine, Xia.” Your words are bitter even with the influence of lethargic softness from the alcohol, and you avert your eyes from his as you cross your arms in front of your chest as a sort of protective layer. “We can forget this ever happened.”

You turn on your heels and walk away from his limp arms and slack jaw, forcing yourself to swallow his unspoken rejection because at the end of the day, you’re still squadron mates - you’re his operations officer, after all. You have a job to do, a base to attend to, aircraft to manage and ensure fly safely.

But when you sink into your bunk after taking a shower and washing your sins off of your body, you let yourself cry for a single second.

Gideon is onto you.

Which is awful, because Gideon is the least attentive man in your squadron - so you don’t know how the fuck you’ve managed to let yourself slip like this.

“This is Gideon, requesting approach and descent information from ____.”

“You’re supposed to use your callsign, you know,” you sigh - half in jest, but mostly serious as your fingers fly across your keyboard to type the time of approach and check the aircraft he’s piloting. “The logs will get too long if you constantly use your name and I’m going to be the one that has to fix it-”

“-I refuse to be called Trip after a stupid incident from our academy days, ____.”

“My professional callsign is Dizzy, just like your professional callsign is Trip, Trip.” Your voice is clipped, although a small smile graces your lips as you relay the following information to him. “I suggest you remember it because our superiors will drill it into our heads.”

A crackle comes in through the system, and the next sentence you hear has you nearly banging your head against your desk. “This is Patrick, requesting approach and descent information from ____.”

“Oh my days, not you too.” You rub your hand across your face, frustration building up at their relentless teasing as you relay the vital information, even in your annoyance. “For the last time, my callsign is Dizzy and I swear on the gods if no one uses proper protocol, I will be reporting the three of you to the higher-ups-”

“This is Caleb, callsign Apple, requesting approach and descent information from ____.”

Your mouth shuts.

You can vaguely hear them ribbing into Caleb, but you tune them out when you feel the hair on your arm stand at his soft, slightly rough voice. The way he turns your name in his mouth with such care and reverence, how his voice dropped the softest octave - making the inflections of your name sound even more intimate because of how it enters your head from your comms system.

How your breath catches when you think about it too hard. The last time he said your name like that in a dingy bar with his mouth by your ear before he kissed the daylights out of you.

“Ooo, ____’s silent! Caleb’s in trouble,” Patrick’s laugh is static-y over your comms system, but you can’t even deny him or blame nonexistent lag because it’s true. Still, you’re grateful for the reality check.

You sigh, forcing yourself to be clipped as you relay only the basic information needed before you finish with, “Apple, you’re good for landing. Dizzy out.”

Outside of your office from your floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see the jets from the mission zipping by the building and doing their customary loop to slow down before landing and rolling into the hangar adjacent to your building. It gives you approximately five minutes to calm down before they land and you walk out to the hangar for the post-mission debrief.

Five minutes to calm the tremors of your hands and quiet the feelings that have been threatening to spill over into your daily life since a shared kiss from…two months ago.

On the outside, you and Caleb have gone through the motions - pretending as if nothing happened as you let yourself indulge in the friendly and innocent touches the two of you have always done - even back in your academy days.

An intentional brush of the back of your hands as you walk into the office for a mission assignment, his hand settling on your shoulder as he steadies himself to pull up the legs of his g-suit, your fingers lingering on his as you give him his helmet, the way his lips moved against yours in that dingy bar-

-snap out of it, ____!

You give up on trying to calm your nerves as you stand up abruptly from your desk, smoothing the small crinkles of your uniform’s slacks before grabbing your laptop and the printed log of today’s mission. You scowl when you see your name pop up multiple times near the very end of the log, deciding to just correct it with correctional fluid and a pen before submitting all of the files to your higher-ups.

Your walk is brisk, shoes barely squeaking on the linoleum as you stride over to the hangar adjacent to the flight offices. You’re opening the doors just as Gideon and Patrick are disembarking, laughing about something unknown while they tie the sleeves of their g-suits around their waist to cool off a little bit.

“____!” Patrick calls sweetly, and you can’t hide your smile even when you roll your eyes as you approach them. “Our mission was a success, no?”

You nod quickly, although it turns into a scowl when he puts you in a sweaty headlock and ruffles your head in an affectionate, big-brother sort of way. And he’s exactly that for your squad of four - dependable, calm, and the cornerstone of your group.

“Get off of me!” It’s halfhearted as you push him off of you, smoothing the flyaways of your bun as much as you can while you frown at your watch. “Where’s Captain Xia?”

One of Gideon’s eyebrows quirks at your statement, mouth in a thin line as he assesses the way you ignore him while Patrick answers your question. “He needed to pilot his aircraft into another hangar for maintenance - he encountered turbulence as we were exiting the Deepspace Tunnel and he wanted to make sure nothing was wrong. Why? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, fingers mindlessly tapping against the folder in your arms as you carefully choose your next words. “Just wanted to make sure he’s okay, I guess.”

“He’s good, ____, promise.” Patrick’s eyes soften at your supposed worry over Caleb, brushing a comforting hand over your arm as he plucks the files from your arms. “In fact, I can be the one to take these over to him and submit them, okay? Get some rest.”

He leaves no room for argument, simply turning on his heel and walking away with a wave of his hand.

“You guys really are like my big brothers,” you grumble, although you feel blissful relief at the idea of delaying seeing him until tomorrow. Your hand slips into your pocket, pulling out your phone so that you can begin to clock out. “I’ll see you around, okay Gideon?”

“____.”

Gideon’s voice stops you in your tracks, and you try your absolute hardest to straighten the grimace on your face as you turn to him slowly. “Yeah?”

“Are you and Caleb okay?”

You stop in your tracks.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” There’s a crack in wouldn’t, one that makes you wince because it’s so obvious - even to the most oblivious man. You hope that Gideon just lets it be so that you can go to your quarters for the evening and maybe read a book, but the universe decides you’re not lucky enough for today.

No, not when you see Gideon’s eyebrow quirk up at your supposed calm.

“That.” There’s an emphasis in the word that lets you know he’s caught you, and you sigh as you prepare for your pseudo-interrogation. “____, you and Caleb seem different these days. Did something happen between the two of you?”

“Everything’s chill, Gideon.” It sounds more stable the second time around, although you still fiddle with the hem of your shirt as your eyes dart to everywhere from his own. “Things have been fine since we went out at the bar a couple of months ago-”

“I never mentioned the bar, ____.”

Shit.

You laugh nervously, fingers tapping against the back of your phone as you try to think of your escape. “Oh, right! It’s just that it was the last time we all went out as a squadron, and-”

“-and does that not include the hotpot meal we went to literally last week, where you also decided to kind of ignore Caleb?”

Gideon knows he has you cornered by the way you freeze slightly, hands falling limply at being caught. Your breath escapes you in a heavy sigh and he takes it as an opportunity to approach you. He pats your head gently and asks, “Did something happen at the bar, ____?”

“We kissed and it’s been messing with my head.”

It spills out of your mouth before you can even register what you're saying, and you feel your spine stiffen at the fact you’ve just spilled your deepest secret and fantasy to someone who’s basically your older brother. Your head tilts up, scared of how he might react-

-but you can only see the relief on Gideon’s face, even when his jaw is set in a straight line as he folds his arms across his chest.

“Knew it was you.”

“W-what?” It’s a stutter, one that makes Gideon smile as you flounder for words. “Me? What do you even mean?”

“Caleb was groaning on and on how he kissed someone and it was the best kiss of his life after we got home from the bar. And his eyes have been lingering on your longer than usual, ____.” Gideon stops patting your head, simply moving his hand to your shoulder so he can give you a comforting squeeze. “He’s been thinking about you too, you know.”

“Doubt it,” you scoff. “He’s blissfully oblivious to the fact that I've felt like this because…”

Because of his childhood friend.

The taste in your mouth turns sour as you imagine her visage - Meilin Chu with her long, silky hair and genuinely kind eyes as she wraps her arms around your neck and thanks you for taking care of her silly best friend during your DAA graduation and the way Caleb’s eyes soften when she’s around, smile a little wider, stance a little more relaxed.

Something you’ve never seen for yourself…for you.

Gideon senses your discomfort, and the grip he has on your shoulder tightens. “Have you asked him that?”

“I don’t need to.” You shrug his shoulder off and return your eyes back to your phone screen so you can attempt to ignore Gideon’s burning stare. “I just know. He floundered after we kissed and he hesitated. Nothing else to it.”

“God, you two are impossible.” Gideon’s hum is amused, and you look up just in time to see him shrug as a sly smile spreads across his face. “Just talk to him, ____.”

“Nope. Bye, Gideon!”

You turn to walk away, finally submitting your clock out report as you think of all of the ways you can now avoid Caleb and Gideon. Surely Patrick will help you out, right? He’s always been like your big brother and maybe he’ll tell them to leave you alone!

“You’re avoiding the inevitable, ____.”

You freeze when you hear his statement but you simply shrug, deciding to keep cool and continuing to walk away even when you hear him click his tongue at your avoidance. “You guys could skip to kissing if you just talked to him!”

“Not a chance in hell of that happening! Bye, Captain Trip!”

With all of your bravado as you walk away from his shaking head, you certainly don’t feel it. No, you feel a quiet churning in the pit of your stomach as you submit your clock out time to the DAA’s system and let your feet wander to the mess hall so that you can eat before locking yourself in your dorm.

Safe from seeing Caleb physically, sure.

But not safe from the feelings that threaten to choke you with your affection for him.

You’ve never been this engrossed by a movie in your life until now.

Your face is awash in the bright scenery as you sit in your comfiest pajama set, enraptured by the scenes playing out in front of you on your computer screen. The way that the blond love interest spins the main character around in the air as they traipse through the sky before calling her his girl and leaving? The banter and the found family aspect of the movie?

The accompanying musical score? The romance???

Needless to say, you’re obsessed.

It’s almost enough to distract you from your own woes and Gideon’s words bouncing around in your brain.

Action word here being almost.

You reach over and rewind the movie to your favorite part (the scene right before they’re soaring across the sky to escape the henchmen) but you barely register what’s happening on your screen as you mull over what Gideon said to you.

Knew it was you.

He’s been thinking about you too, you know.

Just talk to him, ____.

They swirl in your head until your stomach roils with unease, making you flop back onto your bed as you think back to the past couple of months. You and Caleb have been pretty good at avoiding what happened in the bar - almost back to normal, if a little strained. You never look at him for too long because it feels hard to breathe or even think professionally if you stare at him for too long, but you’re okay with living like this if it means he’s still somewhat in your life.

But do you want to settle for this, ____?

A small voice filled with hope and romance in the back of your head betrays you and you scowl at its insistence. “I’m fine.”

But what if he actually wants you, too?

“Oh, this is impossible,” you grumble to yourself as you sit back up. You pause the movie (they’re beginning to float in the air right now) and walk towards the door, barely registering that you’re only in a thin camisole and a matching pair of sleep shorts. It’s not like anyone’s going to be awake at this hour, anyways. You’re just going to the mess hall to get some ice cream-

“Xia?”

He’s standing at your door, covered in a sheen thin of sweat and panting heavily while his fist still remains raised, about to knock on your wide-open door. He looks like he’s seen a ghost with how pale his face is, pupils blown wide as his shoulders shake slightly.

He looks utterly wrecked.

You sigh heavily, grabbing the first sweater you see off of your desk and pulling it on top of your thin camisole so he can’t see you in your state of basically undress as you beckon for him to come inside. He bursts through the door and barely perches himself on your bed as you close the door, making your way to your mattress and settling yourself a little bit away from his trembling body.

“Sorry, ____, I just needed to be here-” He’s breathing shallowly, hands pushing his sweaty hair back as you realize he’s in his workout clothes, his tank top drenched with sweat and grey shorts barely hiding the thick muscles of his thighs. But you can’t find it in yourself to feel desire - no, you only feel worry when you see the absolute devastation on his face as his shoulders shake.

“Is everything okay, Caleb?” 

Mentally you slap yourself for the redundant question. Of course he’s not okay. But it offers an avenue for him to tell you the issue, and it comes in the form of him holding out a slightly wrinkled stack of papers.

You take the papers from his hand, careful not to brush against his fingers as you feel the weight of the luxurious material in your palms. The cardstock is a thick, soft cream color with intentional texture and a wax seal that’s been cracked open. You lift the flap delicately, and the first couple of words your eyes scan over makes your breath catch in your throat.

You have cordially been invited to the wedding of Meilin Chu and Xavier Shen.

“Caleb-”

“She didn’t tell me until just now.”

It’s a bleeding confession and you’re quick to grab Caleb’s arm, dragging him deeper in your bed so that he can lay down on it heavily. You sit next to him and despite the unspoken tension between the two of you, you allow him to settle his head on your lap as you run your fingers through his slightly damp hair.

“I knew she was dating someone from the Hunters Association and that it had been going on for a while, but I didn’t know they were getting married.” It’s not angry at all, you can only describe his voice as shocked and hurt by the news he’s just received. “And they’re getting married so soon? ____, I just…I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” you murmur softly. Your hand settles on top of his head and you take to patting him softly as you mull over your next words. “Did you talk to her about it?”

“No,” he scoffs slightly. Caleb shifts his body so he’s laying on his back, head tilted back as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We haven’t talked since I went home a couple of months ago for our scheduled break. Everything seemed normal, you know? I even hung out with Xavier and some of their Association friends because Mei insisted. Everything is…it was normal, ____.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, fingers gentle through his hair as he groans and rubs at his eyes.

“I just thought pips would tell me, you know, ____? We’re family.” His voice catches at the last word and you sigh heavily, resuming patting his head because what are you supposed to do in this situation?

Your eyes flash over to the dog tags resting on his chest, the soft glint of When U Come Back accompanied by the little apple charm flashing at you like a knife. You know where his official dog tags are - they’re with Meilin, a sign of his dedication and loyalty to her and only her.

Your chest aches, thinking of your own dog tags gathering dust in the little box somewhere in your desk drawers. The dog tags are something you’ve never been able to give to someone because you didn’t have anyone who gives a damn about you back home in Chansia City. It’s always just been you.

You can never be mad at the relationship he has with Meilin. No, you just ache because you wish someone would put yourself above all else, like he does for her.

You want to matter, too.

You’re drawn out of your stupor when you hear your name fall from his lips, and you look down at him in confusion. “What was that?”

“Come with me to the wedding.”

Everything stills and you look down at him, blinking in shock.

“Excuse me?” It’s a breathless heave of your chest as he pushes himself up off of your lap, looking at you with a pleading that nearly has you melting on the spot. But you hold out, instead crossing your arms because there’s no way you’re going to allow yourself to go through this without support.

Not when you’re still reeling from a fucking kiss.

“Please, ____,” Caleb says. His eyes turn down and you move your vision up to your cracked ceiling, wishing for something from the Deepspace Tunnel to smite you down so that you don’t have to see him turn golden retriever on you. “Gideon and Patrick already got invites from Mei and she said she wants you there, too. We called in our leave and we can just relax and I just need you there, star. Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Xia.” It’s a sure statement, and you see the way his face falls slightly. Still, you continue because there’s no way this wedding trip won’t end in disaster. “I didn’t even get a proper invitation anyways. Wouldn’t I be intruding on it? If the three of you got invited, it should be you three to go.”

His dejection smooths out slightly, and he looks at you in muted surprise as he directs you to look at the envelope once again. “Did you not see the back, ____?”

Your eyes wander to the envelope in your hands, seeing the “Captain Caleb Xia + One Additional Guest” printed in a neat script on the back.

Shit, your plan is falling apart and it didn’t even fully come to fruition yet.

“I don’t think our officers will say yes to all of us leaving at the same time-”

“They already approved the time off, ____.” Caleb’s face goes from dejected to slightly amused when he sees the way your eyes widen, words suddenly floundering as you register that he’s about to get you hook line and sinker into his insane plan.

“W-what?! They would never-”

“Already did. If that was what you were worried about, I already took care of it for you.” By now he’s smiling, slight indents on the side of his cheeks as you roll your eyes at him. He reaches over tentatively and your breath catches when you allow him to tilt your chin to look up at him. You’re cursing him in your head though - damn Caleb Xia and his beautiful amethyst eyes you would do almost anything for.

But then you think about the kiss, how you’re still reeling from his mouth on yours in the dim light of a bar you’re sure you can’t physically enter anymore. The memory entrances and haunts you all of the same, and you find yourself slipping as you say, “The kiss?”

Caleb stills.

Your eyes avoid him as you play with your sweatshirt, not wanting to see him and his sudden rejection of you going to this wedding. It’s for the best, you think somberly as he mulls over his options.

It’ll be no good for the two of you if you agree to go to this godforsaken wedding.

“I promise I won’t touch you, ____.”

Your eyes look up in bewilderment, suddenly shocked as you look at his rapidly pinkening face. He sheepishly scratches at the back of his head at your surprise. “We can put the kiss behind us, too. We don’t have to speak about it.”

“Oh.”

The thing is, you don’t want to forget your kiss with Caleb Xia. You don’t want to forget the way his breath washed over your face as you kissed him with increasing fervor, how the planes of his abdomen felt against the softness of your breasts, and how intoxicated he looked off of the taste of you.

You don’t want to forget how enamored he was by you, even if it was only for a moment.

But then you think about this impossible situation. You think about how you're about to be stuck with Caleb, your basically big brothers in the form of Gideon and Patrick, and Caleb’s extended family for a wedding you didn’t even know was happening until just now, in Linkon City of all places. You think of how things could easily fall apart between the two of you while you’re there, and is this really worth it? Is always being there for Caleb worth it?

Is any of this worth it, ____?

“Please, ____.”

There’s your breaking point.

“Yes,” you reply - practically signing the release to your ruin.

It’s almost worth it, though, when you see the way his smile overtakes his face.

The trip to Linkon City is…blissfully uneventful.

At least, it starts that way.

You and the three pilots you’re responsible for arrive at the airport bright and early to beat security lines and potentially get a light breakfast to eat. For three men who navigate the skies with general ease, they have a hard time navigating their way to a food court and your plane’s gate, so it’s up to you to split the four of you into groups of two - one to get food, one to find the boarding gate.

And since you’re responsible for team management…

“All right, Gideon can go with Caleb to find food while Patrick and I find our gate. Once you have food, we’ll come find you and take you to the waiting area.” Your voice is clipped and concise, and the three of them don’t have any arguments since they’re too sleepy to fight back. Gideon punches Caleb’s shoulder and nods his head to the direction of the food court as you flick your gaze to Patrick, pointing to where the numbered gates are.

It’s a peaceful silence as you and Patrick scan the numbers, and you sigh in relief when you see your gate and your flight’s designated number. You sink into the stiff cushions of the gate, ready to scroll through your Moments page for any fun event updates happening during Linkon City-

“-when did you start having a thing for Caleb?”

Well, that’s certainly one way to break your stupor.

“I don’t know what you mean, Patrick.” You’re as cool as a cucumber while you continue to scroll through your Moments page, having vowed to keep you shit together to ensure that this trip goes as smoothly as possible. But your hands betray your nerves - slightly shaky, finger tapping against the back of your phone erratically as you fight to keep your gaze on your screen.

Your eyes flick up to Patrick’s face, and he has his signature knowing smile that has you groaning.

Of course Patrick susses you out even with your cool facade. Out of the three of them, he’s always the one to analyze and bide his time, gathering intel before striking.

You just so happen to be the next target he wants to crack.

“Gideon slipped up telling me some things,” he discloses quietly, and you make a mental note to strangle Gideon the next time you see him as Patrick continues his musings. “But you and Caleb have always had an unspoken bond…when did that start?”

You look at Patrick’s face, trying to gauge him and his thoughts as you decide how much you want to disclose to him. He’s still looking at you with that infuriatingly patient look of his, simply waiting for you to go at your pace.

“We were both barely legal enough when we joined the Academy.”

“I know that much, ____-”

“No, Patrick,” you say forcefully. “We were barely eighteen, diving headfirst into the Academy so we could build ourselves up to be better. You above all people know that the program is ruthless, and after we got paired for flight sims with him as the pilot and me as his systems operations one-on-one, we just…stuck together.”

“So why not tell him that? Why not tell him the feelings you have for him?”

You hesitate at his words, hands floundering as you try to put into words why you can’t tell Caleb everything you feel for Patrick to understand. If you had been able to do it, you would have a long time ago. 

But then you see it - the way he gets protective when he mentions Meilin, swearing how he’ll always put her and his Gran first so that they could be comfortable - even before him and his own wants and desires.

How he’ll never look at another for as long as he’s supporting them.

You don’t feel any sort of bitterness and anger, just…quiet resolve. Maybe a little bit of appreciation. Caleb Xia’s many things, and a dedicated man to those he cares for the most is at the top of that list. And that’s something you could never hate about him-

-it’s the thing you love the most about him, his undying devotion.

It’s just that you know it will never be directed towards you.

“Because he has people at home and he can realistically pick any girl he wants. I’m just…me. I don’t really speak to my family right now and I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would choose me.”

“And how do you know that, ____?” Patrick’s voice is gentle, devoid of condescension as he bumps your shoulder with his. “I think you should talk to Caleb, ____. You might be surprised with what he has to say.”

“No.” It’s a little too forceful coming from your throat, and you straighten your spine when you see Caleb and Gideon walk towards the two of you with a brown paper bag. You avert your eyes and duck your head down, murmuring, “I’m here to support Caleb and to witness a wedding. I’ll do what I need to do and bury my feelings into the ground.”

With your final vow you stand, moving your carry-on so that you can settle next to an outlet and ignore the three of them. You miss the way Caleb’s eyes lingers on you as you scroll through Moments, and the way Gideon and Patrick share an unspoken look at Caleb’s intense gaze on you.

But they (very thankfully) do not bother you until it's time to board, the only interruption to your doom-scrolling being your favorite croissant sandwich Caleb settles beside you with an unspoken word. And you’re thankful, because you don’t think you can properly look at him and the devastating slope of his nose in the rising sun’s golden glow.

As you settle next to Gideon on the plane, you give him a halfhearted chop to the throat. He lets out an unholy squawk at your muted violence, clutching his neck as he looks at you in a scandalized manner. 

“What the fuck was that for, ____?!”

All you need to do is glare at him and he shrinks back into his seat, avoiding the heat of your stare as he suddenly fiddles with the seat in front of him in rapt fascination.

You sigh.

You’re barely on the plane, and you’ve already experienced developments to this situation that’s turning this trip into a train wreck of a romantic comedy at this point. You turn your head up to the vague direction of the Deepspace Tunnel as the plane begins to taxi and you think to yourself:

Please give me a mission so I can get out of this stupid romcom I put myself into.

“Caaaaaaleb!!!”

There’s a loud squeal when you and your squad finally make it out to the arrivals area and you see a head of long and glossy hair run up to your group, jumping up and hugging Caleb tightly. Caleb’s quick to catch Meilin, chuckling as he spins her around and whispers something frantically in her ear.

Behind Meilin is a silver-y blond man with bright blue irises, halfheartedly holding a sign that says Skyhaven Squad Pickup. You see his eyes flash with something possessive when Caleb pats Meilin’s back gently, but his posture quickly relaxes when Meilin lets go and runs to you instead.

Ah, that must be Xavier, you think to yourself, before a quiet oof escapes your mouth from the velocity in which Meilin runs into you.

“It’s! So! Nice! To! See! You! Again!” Each word is punctuated with an aggressive sway of your body as she rocks you back and forth in her hug. You remind yourself that Meilin doesn’t know about your feelings and that she’s done no wrong, and it makes it easier for you to relax as you wrap your arms around and reciprocate her warmth. 

Besides, her enthusiasm’s infectious.

The hugs she shares with Gideon and Patrick have the same energy, and they also laugh and tousle her hair as they hug her back. It’s a chaotic shuffle to get to the van Meilin and Xavier rented to pick the four of you up, but Caleb’s quick to take the key from Meilin while shuffling into the front seat. Gideon and Patrick’s eyes sparkle at you as they get into the back, leaving Meilin and Xavier in the middle row and you standing awkwardly by the passenger door.

“Get in, ____!” You shoot Patrick a death glare at his cheeky wink, yanking the door open and sliding yourself into the seat. You ignore Caleb’s heated stare on the side of your face as you buckle yourself in, going onto the navigation app and turning your head back to the four people in the back of the car.

“What are the plans today? Where are we going?” Your pragmatic self comes back out, drowning out your anxiety as you input routes and search the nearest restaurants so that you can all eat together. 

“We’re heading to the Bloomshore District! Caleb should know the way-”

“Got it,” Caleb says smoothly. He’s quick to pull out of the parking spot, easily transitioning into the busy traffic of Linkon City. The silence never abates, though - Meilin, Patrick, and Gideon talk animatedly about the wedding as Xavier hums along in response while you and Caleb continue to not look at each other as you wordlessly hold your phone out to help him navigate.

“Gran got reservations at a really nice hotpot restaurant before we take you to your accommodation!” Meilin’s rambling as she fills you in on all of the plans, her chatter a nice companion to the soft music from the playlist you put on before the drive started. “Actually, do you guys have clothes for the wedding? We allocated a budget for that too-”

“We have tuxes already, Mei,” Patrick says. But his eyes turn mischievous as he points at you, shaking his head. “Miss Serious over there doesn’t have a dress though-”

“Shut up, Patrick-” You seethe, but you hastily put on a smile as you shake your head and hold your hands out to stop Meilin’s train of thought. “It’s okay Mei! I’ll find something suitable in our time off! I saved for it too-”

“Nonsense, ____!” Meilin sounds offended at the remote thought of you refusing her and her ability to pay for your dress to her wedding. “We’ll go shopping together, after some of the wedding events! We also have gift bags and jerseys for the basketball game that’s happening next weekend-”

“Mei, there’s a basketball game? Seriously?”

The car comes to an abrupt stop, half from the sudden yellow and half from Caleb’s shock. He turns back briefly to look at her in disbelief, shaking his head. “There’s no way you organized a wedding basketball game, Mei.”

“Yes I did, Caleb! You’ll be competing, by the way!” Meilin’s tone is sing-song as she continues on with the subject. “We need an opposing team! Xav, his best man, and one of our friends from the Association will be competing on one team, and you, Gideon, and Patrick can be on the other-”

“You didn’t even tell us, pips!” Caleb’s voice is hot as his fingers clench the steering wheel while he starts the car once more, merging onto the road that leads to the Bloomshore District. “I would have appreciated a little heads up so we could train-”

“We don’t need to train for a basketball game, Caleb,” Gideon says. “We can easily beat the Association team’s ass, right ____?”

“Umm-”

“I still would have appreciated some sort of warning,” Caleb unceremoniously cuts you off, making you roll your eyes as you sit back and listen to the bickering happening. “Springing this on us all of a sudden is a little bit much, pipsqueak. And you’re wanting to do this too, Xavier?”

Xavier shrugs, but his eyes flash with a challenge as he regards him with a small smirk on his face. “Why not? And why are you so apprehensive about it? You scared you’ll lose, Xia?”

Caleb prickles in his seat, jaw ticking dangerously as he processes Xavier’s unspoken challenge. You shake your head at the chaos around you and, despite the lingering awkwardness from your avoidance earlier in the morning, run a soothing hand over his arm, pressing your fingers against his wrist to help him calm down. You feel Caleb relax under your touch, and he sighs heavily to himself before letting his right hand grab your fingers and squeezing them tightly, returning your hand back to your lap gently and refocusing onto the road in front of him. 

The action is quick, but you miss the way Xavier’s lips curl up in a quick smirk as Meilin’s eyes sparkle at the unspoken movement.

“Pipsqueak, no way.” Caleb’s protest isn’t as heated, but his fingers still clench the steering wheel as he drives into a parking lot. “I told you I’m retired-”

“And I’m bringing you out of retirement since I need a representative!” Meilin pouts at him, and you very well see his resignation and acceptance on his face as he pulls into a parking spot. “I’ll be rooting for Xav but Caleb, we really need an opposing team!”

The car rolls to a stop in front of a restaurant, and Caleb kills the engine before turning his body and staring back at Gideon and Patrick with an unspoken intensity you assume only the three of them know. “You two were in on this, huh?”

Patrick only shoots him a cheeky wink. “It’s been a while since we’ve played basketball, Captain Xia. It’ll be fun! Think of the glory!”

You see the exact moment Caleb cracks: the mention of winning. You’ve seen his extreme competitiveness first hand, and from the way Meilin talks about him playing basketball back in the day, he surely must have been even more so back then? Caleb looks at you pleadingly but you simply smile as you open the door.

“I think you’ll be good at it, Caleb.” Your voice is soft as you hop out of the car, stretching slightly. “Why not?”

You walk a couple of paces in front of you so you can get rid of the kinks in your body, trying to relax the tension you feel. But you hear the resounding cheer behind you in the car and you shake your head slightly with a light laugh, knowing he’s agreed to the basketball game.

One by one they get out of the car, eagerly filing into the restaurant where Meilin and Caleb’s gran is waiting for your group. Caleb pauses when he sees you moving back to the car, about to walk to you. Meilin stops him though, pulling him down and whispering something in his ear before he sighs and nods. As you lean against the car and breathe in deeply, you see Meilin and Xavier talking quietly to each other before Xavier nods, quickly jogging back and standing next to you as Meilin smiles in your direction before going into the restaurant.

There’s a companionable silence as Xavier waits for you to get ready, the two of your similar dispositions allowing for quiet to be comfortable instead of awkward. You simply nod to Xavier and you both walk to the restaurant. The smell of hotpot is so close you can taste it-

“Have you always had a thing for Caleb, ____?” Xavier’s voice is soft yet probing as he walks beside you. You turn to look at him in disbelief but he simply smiles, pointing at his eyes and then your hand as if that answers your question. “Saw what you did in the car.”

“Oh, come on.” You groan, shaking your head as the two of you approach the front doors. “I don’t need your interrogation too, Xavier. We barely just met, can you ignore whatever you saw? Caleb doesn’t need to know-”

“So you do have feelings for him.” There’s a subtle smirk on his mouth as he gestures for you to enter the hot pot restaurant, and you bristle at having slipped once again.

“I’m going to eat!” Your frustration gets the best of you and you march through the door in front of you so that you can finally eat after this hellscape of a morning. All the while, you hear Xavier’s soft laughter behind you, making you tempted to hold your middle finger up for him to see. You decide against it, though, on account that he’s the fucking groom of the wedding you’re about to attend. 

God, you’re not going to make it.

You successfully barricade yourself in your room under the pretense of work for three whole days before Patrick finally manages to drag you out of your self-imposed prison.

“Getting our higher ups to agree to our squad getting a three week break at the same time was near impossible, ____.” His voice has the edge of a disappointed father and you sheepishly duck your head as you pack your bag to go out. “Knowing you, you’ve completed everything flawlessly so I’m dragging you out and you cannot stop me.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you grumble softly, but you still give him an appreciative nod as you make your way out of the room. “What does Mei have planned for us tonight?”

There’s an air of hesitation as the two of you walk to the first floor of your accommodation, Patrick tight lipped as you pick up the shoes you’re going to wear. You turn your head when Patrick doesn’t respond, quirking an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“Just get in the car, ____.”

“Fine,” you mutter back, quickly sliding on your shoes and smoothing out the skirt and sweater you decided to wear before walking out, letting him lock the door behind you.

You scan the driveway, looking for Meilin’s personal car as you approach the rental vehicle sitting by the street. Usually everyone would be in their unassigned assigned seat by now, but you feel surprise brewing in the pit of your stomach when you realize that you don’t see Meilin and Xavier in the car - it’s just Caleb waiting by the middle seat as Gideon drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Are Meilin and Xavier not joining us?” You’re curious as Patrick slides himself into the passenger seat, sidestepping Caleb’s waiting hand and pulling yourself into the middle seat. “Or are they going to meet us wherever we’re going?”

Gideon looks back at you with a mysterious smile on his face. “Just wait, ____.”

Your focus is solely on the flashing lights that pass by as you drive through traffic and different parts of Linkon City, entranced by the different types of architecture and neighborhoods that flash by. After spending most of your years in Skyhaven, you’ve gotten comfortable with the scenery. Everything feels new here, and you almost feel bad for cooping yourself up in your room for the past couple of days.

But then you look back and barely catch the way Caleb’s eyes linger on you before he turns his head to his own window, and you sigh minutely to yourself as you twiddle your thumbs and avoid scrolling on Moments like a disinterested teenage daughter.

“We’re here!”

Gideon’s voice is cheerful, oblivious to the awkwardness you and Caleb share as he kills the engine and opens his door. You’re quick to open your own door and slide out, rolling your ankles slightly before looking at your surroundings.

A little bit of a ways away, you can see lanterns strung in the air, swaying gently in the cool summer air above the numerous stalls on the street. There’s an aroma of grilled meat and candied sweetness that blends together nicely as you turn back to them, eyes sparkling at the realization. “A night market?”

“Mhm.” Patrick practically looks like a proud father as he takes your arm, pulling you in the direction of the bustle with little resistance as Gideon and Caleb follow behind you. “Found one while searching through Moments so we figured why not?”

Your awe continues as your group dives into the chaos, Gideon already ordering skewers as Patrick gets his hands on some pan fried baos. The air is comfortable amongst the four of you as you split the food and taste everything the market has to offer, and you feel yourself loosening up with every laugh and elbow jostled.

It’s enough to get you to look at Caleb fully since this trip’s started.

The four of you continue on, trying anything and everything that looks remotely delicious or fascinating. The best thing about having three pilots is that they have large appetites, so none of the food goes to waste as they continuously tuck in.

Soon though, you unanimously decide to wander around the stalls laden with various goods and trinkets. You’re so engrossed in some dresses that you don’t register Gideon and Patrick walking away with a knowing look in Caleb’s direction, leaving Caleb with his hands in his pockets as he waits for your realization to hit you.

But when you turn to look at him, you simply smile as you beckon to another direction. “Wanna keep walking? There must be way more over there!”

“I- yeah,” he concedes. Your eyes narrow at his hesitation but you decide to brush past it, simply grabbing his arm and pulling him along the rows of stalls.

In these situations, your different personalities really shine. Caleb wants to dart back and forth to different stalls but you take your time, going up to a stall if something catches your eye and picking up items to feel their weight before continuing on. Caleb never rushes you, though - he watches and waits, holding anything in your hands if you want to feel something before taking your arm and gently guiding you through the throng of people to stalls he knows you’ll like.

The shared energy is amiable, silence comfortable as you let your eyes wander over Caleb’s frame. You’d be an idiot to not acknowledge how good he looks in the hazy lights provided by the lanterns, the gentle glow making him look softer as he scopes out your next location. The sleeveless shirt shows off the way his arms ripple as he reaches for you, helping you through a fast moving crowd and guiding you towards an assuming corner. If you gave in, you could almost imagine this as a date between the two of you, but the taste in your mouth turns sour because it most definitely is not.

“How’s your Gran?”

It slips off of your tongue as the two of you finally make it into a less busy part of the market, the stalls lining this street dedicated to craftsmanship. You stop in front of a live artist painting little chibis of people, and you examine their work as Caleb mulls over the question.

“She’s good.” His tone is softly tinged with tiredness as he moves to stand next to you, examining the drawing you’re currently focused on. “Her, Mei, and I went out to lunch and they took me to a fitting for a tux since they wanted me to walk with them down the aisle. I also went to a suit fitting before the tea ceremony tomorrow for Mei and Xavier.” Caleb turns his gaze to you, and you still slightly as he scans your visage. “Will you be coming?”

“Tea ceremonies are usually for immediate families and close friends.” It’s firm as you move down to another booth, this time with jade carvings. “I have their gift prepared for them, though. You’ll give it to them, right?”

“____.” Caleb tries to get your attention by grabbing at your arm, but you simply shrug him off as you peer closer at the intricate jade pieces in front of you. “You’re my guest, you should come-”

“I have DAA work to complete.” You decide that jade is not your favorite as you move to the next stall, your interest piquing when you see charms of all shapes and sizes in little wooden boxes. You lift one in the shape of a chubby star into your palm, tracing the smooth metal and the little yellow gem inlaid in the center.

A finger plucks the charm from your hand and your scowl rivals Caleb’s frown as he gently places it back into the box, eyes lingering on the little star before returning his attention to you. His hand grabs at yours and he pulls you into a shadowy corner, crossing his arms and blocking your path to escape. “Are you good, ____?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You can feel the tension between the two of you, simmering since you boarded the plane a couple of days ago. You realize now you must be like a petulant child, avoiding not just Caleb but Gideon and Patrick and you soften, deciding to maintain the peace for their sake. “This trip is about Meilin and Xavier, ____. I wasn’t even formally invited so I’m just…making sure the trip is enjoyable for you.”

“What would make this trip more enjoyable is if I had my friend going out as well, star.” It’s a quiet confession, and he reaches up as if he wants to touch your face before shaking his head and letting his hand fall. “I want you to have fun too, ____.”

“I am!” You try to insist on it, but even you find your words falling flat as you think of something. “Hotpot was great, and then…”

“And then you locked yourself in your room for three days to avoid me.” Caleb’s voice is deadpan, but you can still see a flare of hurt at the words he utters. “____, I told you I would make sure you were comfortable. Are you not?”

“I am,” you try to insist on it, but it falls flat. Frustration begins to eat at your mind and you feel a small corner of your brain panic at the situation beginning to spin out of control. This is the last thing you wanted - for an argument to break out. Your hands reach up, rubbing all over your tired face as you think of the facts right now.

The thing is, you’re having fun right now. The three of them dragging you out has done wonders for you, and you’ve already so much of what you’ve wanted the past few hours. You want to go to all of the little events Meilin has planned, scream as much as you want at the upcoming basketball game coming up.

But your feelings are stopping you. The crippling fear of accidentally spilling your love for him is making your head spin, and it’s mixed with the desire of wanting to spend time with him so much that you can’t find an out in this situation. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place and you don’t know what to do which terrifies you because you’re always supposed to know what to do.

Hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing the temples of your head as you allow yourself to sink closer to Caleb’s comforting space. “Hey, ____…”

“I want to have fun, trust me Xia.” It’s raw, even with no tears as you try to stop the spinning of your head. “I just don’t want to get in between you and Meilin spending time together, you know? She’s your best friend and you guys still have a lot to talk about and why she didn’t tell you she was getting married in the first place-”

“-it’s fine, ____. I’ll talk to her soon, I just want you to enjoy yourself too.”

Silence descends between the two of you as you slow your breathing, letting the cool air bring you back to the present. You try to untangle yourself from his arms but he stops you, simply pressing his palms into your face as he guides you to look up at him.

“What if we just pretend, star?” 

“What?”

It’s a shocked whisper as your eyes widen, lip quivering as you look at his steadfast expression. There’s no hesitation on his face, only assurance as he moves his arms to wrap you in his embrace.

“Let’s just pretend nothing happened between us, okay? We’re just Caleb and ____, on vacation with our friends. We’re going to have a good time and it’s just you and I, okay?”

You slowly step back, eyes wild as you scan his face for any sort of hesitation on end. There’s nothing, though - only determination to make things somewhat more comfortable for you so that you can enjoy yourself too.

“Is that a good idea, Caleb?”

Your voice trembles because you don’t think you can pretend, not when your feelings are threatening to spill out of your mouth every couple of seconds. If you thought you wouldn’t make it out when the trip started, there’s almost no guarantee you’ll make it out of the trip unscathed if he’s asking you to pretend with him.

“I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, like I said.” It’s a promise on his end that you know he’ll keep, but it’s practically useless because that’s not the issue at all - the issue is that you’re so deeply in love with him that you’re beginning to think that this is your only option. “Can we try, ____?”

“What does pretending even entail, Xia?” There’s a bite in your tone as you cross your arms, looking up at his confidence. “How are we going to go about this pretending that you’re so sure of?”

Caleb senses your apprehension, and his eyes soften as he regards your face with nothing but sincerity. “Nothing happened between us, ____. No kiss, no anything. We’re just two friends who are on vacation, spending time together.”

“And this will work because-”

“-because it will remove the pressure and tension from you.” Caleb finishes your musings with a soft smile, and you almost feel yourself getting ready to go along with it because he sounds so sure about this going okay. “We’re just two…friends, star. We’re enjoying a vacation.”

“And you don’t see this ending in disaster, Xia?” You have to admit, it sounds pretty viable coming out of his mouth. There’s a little part of you that’s still hesitant, but you’re mostly curious to see what pretending means to him.

“Not at all, ____.” His tone is smooth, but his eyes are sincere as he reaches up to gently pinch at your cheek. You scowl and bat his hand away, but you can’t stop the small grin forming on your face at his teasing. “Not when I get to spend time with you.”

“Okay.”

The word slips out of your mouth before you’re even sure of what you said, but Caleb hears it all the same as a smile spreads across his face - making him look even more devastatingly handsome under the gentle glow of the lanterns above the two of you.

Oh, ____- you’re so screwed.

The day of the basketball game arrives with nerves.

Sure, you’re excited for the game to start, but it’s harder to feel that when you’re nervous about how the day will go. Not even if Caleb, Gideon, and Patrick lose - no, you’re scared because how are you going to continue pretending?

“What’s got you so nervous, ____?” Meilin’s sitting next to you, wearing a headband that has little heart cutouts of Xavier’s face that’s paired with her jersey that has his last name on the back. She looks down at the simple romper you pulled on, lips jutting out in a pout as she looks up at you with sad eyes. “And why didn’t you wear the extra jersey Caleb had?”

You eye Meilin, suspicion in your veins as you try to gauge how truthful she’s being. “I didn’t see an extra jersey, and Caleb was already wearing it when he went downstairs.”

“Damn,” she mumbles softly to herself, and you look at her in confusion before her slightly frustrated expression smooths out. Her smile peeks back out, and she elbows you friendly as you tentatively smile at her back. “How’re you liking Linkon City? Did you do anything fun?”

You nod as you focus back on the teams on the basketball court, Xavier and Caleb approaching the half court line to decide who has the ball first. After a lot of back and forth Caleb concedes the ball to Xavier, turning back with practiced ease as Xavier bristles slightly. The whistle sounds and the game begins with Meilin snorting beside you at the competition brewing.

“I knew they would be like this,” she says to you softly over the cheer of the wedding crowd. Xavier sinks a shot and points to Meilin, blowing her a kiss in her direction before tripping over his feet. You watch as Meilin’s cheeks bulge the tiniest bit, holding in her laughter even when she blows a kiss back.

“Oh God don’t laugh Mei,” she chants to herself but you elbow her, making a quick giggle escape from her lips.

“Stop, ____,” she hisses, but you merely smile devilishly sweet at her as you clap when Patrick makes a good throw into the basket.

For how competitive he is, Caleb is completely relaxed as he dribbles the ball before passing it to Gideon. You try not to focus on the way his sweat makes his body shine or how good he looks in his basketball jersey - a purple that matches his eyes with his last name emblazoned on his back. You swear he must feel your stare, though, because his eyes catch yours when he has the ball.

He dribbles the ball casually as he approaches the hoop, and Meilin elbows you back as she preens like a peacock. “Oh my God, ____, he’s about to show off-”

Your body flushes when he points directly at you, giving a small wink and smirk in your direction before focusing back on the hoop. The ball sails towards its goal-

-only to miss entirely. 

You burst into laughter when you see Caleb’s sheepish expression, hysterical to the point of tears at his cheesy attempt gone wrong. Meilin laughs alongside you, and you both have to clutch at each other as you both attempt to stifle your giggles while the game continues.

“Oh my God he looked so stupid-” you gasp, tears streaming down your face as another peal of laughter bubbles from your lips. “I don’t claim any of that by the way, Meilin.”

“At least Caleb can sometimes shoot properly!” Meilin’s catching her breath, eyes bright as you both shake your heads. “Xav nearly tripped over his own two feet a couple of attempts back and I felt something die in my chest-”

“Oh God,” you gasp, before the two of you burst out into peals of laughter once more.

For how much the two of you laugh at Caleb and Xavier, you have to admit that this game is surprisingly close. You’ve always known Caleb to be a powerhouse in whatever he does - physically adept and capable in anything he does with his competitive edge powering him to the end. But Xavier is more lithe, biding his time and waiting for an open before jumping up and sinking in neat three-pointers that has Caleb, Gideon, and Patrick gritting their teeth in frustration. You and Meilin feel the competitive spirit rising and you participate, goading and cheering them on as they trade shots back and forth.

Soon enough, it’s the last couple of seconds in a tied game. Caleb has the ball and his eyes are ultra-focused on his goal in front of him as he neatly maneuvers around Jeremiah and jumps up, aiming the ball towards the hoop with a flick of his wrist. Time seems to slow as the clock approaches zero…

Swoosh.

The basketball lands neatly in the hoop as the buzzer strikes, and the crowd cheers as Caleb pumps his fist in the air. The crowd of wedding-goers break out in enthusiastic chaos - snacks thrown all around as everyone shouts for Caleb’s winning shot. You can’t help but cheer alongside everyone else when you see Gideon and Patrick roar while lifting him up over their heads, jostling him up and down to parade him around the courtside so everyone can cheer him on. From the corner of your eye you see Meilin run up to Xavier before beaming up at him even when he pouts at his defeat, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek as he wraps her in his arms. Your eyes dart back to Caleb, wondering how he’s going to react to this scene-

-but his bright eyes and the massive smile spreading across his face are solely on you.

He hops off of Gideon and Patrick’s shoulders, running to where you stand on the courtside. His hands twitch with adrenaline and restlessness, going from swiping at the sweat on his forehead to the hem of his jersey before finally cradling your face in his palms and plopping a wet kiss onto your forehead. 

“Gross, Xia!” You’re laughing, though, a giddy feeling blossoming and spreading throughout your entire body as Caleb picks you up and spins you around. Your arms wrap around his neck, head buried against his throat as you screech and mark this memory down for you and you only.

Once he plops you back down you sway a little bit, waiting for your head to settle from the dizziness as he looks down at you with a quirk in the corner of his mouth. He lifts the hem of his jersey and uses the thin fabric to wipe at the sweat on his face with deliberate movements, and you fight to keep your mouth shut at the sight of his glistening abs above his low lying shorts, accompanied with the band of his boxer briefs peeking above the waistband.

He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it.

The happiness gives way to a heat burning you alive when he flashes you a wink, lifting his arms and pulling his jersey over his head by the back collar. He rubs his face against the fabric and your mouth dries at the sight of his chest heaving slightly with his breathlessness, biceps tensing and flexing as he moves the jersey to the back of his ruffled hair-

You need to leave, like right now.

You make a move to turn around but Caleb’s even quicker, hooking his pointer figure around the strap of your romper as he pulls you into his chest. You squeak at the sudden contact, his sweaty body pressed up against your shaking frame as you fight the moan that threatens to slip from your mouth at his easy dominance.

Fuck, everything about this is so hot - you shouldn’t be thinking like this.

“Everyone’s looking.”

His lips brush by your neck. “I don’t care.”

You gasp and feel Caleb’s responding smile by your neck as he settles his hands on your waist, spinning you around so you’re back to facing him in his sweaty, Adonis-like glory. His eyes dart from the jersey still in his hand to your face, expression flickering with mischief and something more before he makes up his mind, unfurling his jersey from his hands and positioning the opening above your head.

“Caleb-”

“Wear it, star.” His smirk softens into something smaller as he pulls his crumpled jersey over your head, surrounding you with the addictive scent of his sweat and a faint trace of the apple cologne he always wears. “It looks better on you, anyways.”

He grabs your hand and does a little twirl, making you miss the way his eyes darken when he sees XIA across your back - his name on you. But when you turn back around, his easy smile is on his face once more as he brushes a kiss against your knuckles before elbowing you playfully.

“You being courtside helped me win, by the way.”

You roll your eyes, elbowing him back even when his words make you glow like the sun. “I highly doubt that, Xia.”

“It’s true, ____.” He’s insistent, eyes softening when he hears your scoff. “You’re my northern star guiding me home-”

“-my callsign still isn’t Star-”

“Yeah, well,” he cuts you off, and he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in, forcing you to look up at him as your hands land on his slightly sweaty chest. “You’re still my star. And more than that, you’re my lucky charm.” 

“And why is that, Captain Apple?” Your voice takes on a note of teasing, one that has his chest rumbling as he laughs against you. His chin rests on the top of your head as he contemplates his answer, fingers following the X I A across your back and making you weak in the knees all over again.

“Because when I’m with you, I always feel like I’m on top of the world. I’m able to push farther, explore more, achieve more because of you and your voice supporting me and being there for me.”

His words render you speechless and you look up at him incredulously, trying to gauge if he truly means it or if it’s just him continuing on with his playing pretend. But all you see is the same look of awe and yearning on his face.

The same look he’s had since he saw you after his game-winning shot.

“Caleb, are you pretending right now?”

It’s a complete juxtaposition from the celebratory mood, and you see the way his eyes dims as he processes your words. His mouth opens and he begins, “____-”

“____!”

Your eyes widen at the sound of Meilin’s voice, all but pushing her childhood best friend away from you as you move to smooth the goosebumps down from your arms. Your hands go to the hem of the jersey still on you, about to pull it off but a hand on the fabric stops you. You follow the arm, up past a gleaming silver necklace resting on an unevenly rising chest before landing on Caleb’s eyes once more.

His stormy, turbulent eyes.

“Keep it on. Please.”

And with the way his voice breaks on the last word you can’t help but loosen your hold on his jersey, instead smoothing the wrinkles on the fabric away as you turn to look at Meilin - who’s looking at you with a sparkle of knowing in her eyes.

Oh, you’re about to be in so much trouble-

“You’re so brave for having stinky Caleb’s sweaty jersey on, ____!” It's a playful chirp and you relax only slightly as she reaches towards you and links her arm around yours, sure that she’s not upset with you. “But enough of Caleb, I’m not taking no for an answer! I’m helping you find a dress for the wedding!”

“Wh-what?” You try to pull away, but Meilin isn’t having any of your protests as she drags you to where the rest of her bridesmaids sit. One of them (you believe her name is Tara) cheers when she sees you approaching, prompting the rest of the bridesmaids to cheer alongside her as they see your visage.

“You’ve been taking care of Caleb when we haven’t been able to, treating him with exceptional warmth.” Meilin’s voice is a soft whisper and she reaches down to squeeze your hand reassuringly as you process her words. “Gran and I agreed that it’s the least we can do for you.”

“Meilin, that’s too much-”

“No buts!” She declares as you finally stand in front of her bridesmaids. “Ladies! I'm going shopping with this hottie next week!”

You feel your body warm with shyness as they begin their gushing over you, but you can’t help but laugh at their antics while you let Meilin and her bridesmaids drag you away. You tilt your head back to look at him as they begin discussing the colors that would work best for your dress and your complexion, your heels and backup shoes, your purse-

Caleb watches as the jersey emblazoned with XIA disappears in the sea of people, feeling a twinge of…something light when he sees the way your eyes sparkle as you tilt your head back to laugh even harder. The evening sun bathes your body in an angelic glow, making the words unspoken thrum in his heart as he feels himself melt at the sight of you so happy.

He wants to keep you like that.

He wants to be the reason you’re always happy.

Caleb feels a body bump into him, and he turns around to see Gideon and Patrick wiggling their eyebrows in thinly veiled suggestion as Patrick tosses him a baggy black shirt.

“What are you thinking about, Caleb?” Gideon’s teasing him, he knows, but he can’t be bothered to be annoyed as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“Nothing much,” he says back jovially. He picks up his bag easily, swinging the straps over his shoulders as he beckons to his two best friends. “Wanna get street food before going back to the accommodation?”

They nod and rush ahead of him but Caleb lingers, steps easy as he mulls the words he wanted to say to you. Words that he will say to you, in one way or another.

You’re the reason why I come back.

You’re what guides me home.

There’s a pleasant sleepiness overtaking your body as the clock strikes ten.

You’re changing into your comfiest sweats and an oversized shirt following an impromptu dinner with Meilin and her bridesmaids, gleeful exchanges of social media and numbers shared over grilled bar food and cocktails. There’s still a light hum from the alcohol in your veins, but it’s nothing too intense. It’s a steady thrum of warmth that makes you feel just a little bit looser and more open, but you know with a glass of water it will go away easily.

You eye your laptop, debating on whether or not you want to watch a movie to help you drift off to sleep. You think back to the movie you’re still enthralled with: of curses the female lead couldn’t speak about and flower fields and a romance you find yourself yearning for, especially now. You decide that it’s the best course of action for yourself, so you settle yourself into your bed with your laptop and pull the movie up.

You’re about to press start when there’s a knock on your door, interrupting your cozy time. A sigh escapes your lips at how you’ll have to retuck yourself into bed but you’re still pushing yourself out of your blanket fort, padding over softly to the door and pulling it open to see Caleb standing by the threshold with a sheepish expression on his face.

“Hi, ____.”

“You’re being really thorough with this pretending thing.” It’s deadpan but you still step aside just enough for Caleb to come inside, and you turn and lock the door behind him as he settles himself on the edge of the bed. He eyes the screen of your laptop as you wiggle yourself underneath your covers before spreading the comforter flat and patting the newly formed space next to you.

“Come on,” you murmur softly. “I know you want to watch the movie, too.”

You can’t quite hold back your smile when he settles himself comfortably and looks at the movie with thinly veiled interest.

“I saw this on your screen when I invited you to the wedding,” Caleb muses as you tap on your spacebar. The score sounds tinny coming out of your laptop’s small stereo system, but the two of you still settle back and watch with rapt interest. “Why this one?”

“You’ll see, now shush.”

His mouth falls silent at your insistence, but he still smiles to himself as he relents.

The silence is broken with the occasional comment or bit of laughter - mainly in the beginning, when Caleb scoffs at how the two main characters float through the air as the iconic score plays behind them. He turns to you, and you feel your breath catch at how…handsome he looks in this light. The colors wash over his face, bathing him in the splashes of color thanks to the animated scenes before you. You can see the intrigue he tries to hide by setting his mouth straight but his expressive eyes betray him: warm and with a sparkle as he examines the scenes playing out in front of him.

“This is the movie you’re obsessed with?” He’s trying to put on all of his bravado for show, but his breath catches when he sees the way they float majestically through the air.

“Yup,” you murmur back, resting your head on his shoulder.

He freezes for a second, processing the fact you’re resting on him - so warm and akin to a cat with the way you unconsciously rub your head against his shoulder. You return your attention to the movie, barely hiding your shiver when he plops his arm behind you so that you can burrow further into his body.

Somehow throughout the course of the movie, Caleb finds his way underneath the covers and tangles his legs in between yours, settling your laptop on his thighs so that you can curl up next to him comfortably. Your head is fully on his chest now, hands gripping his shirt lightly while he idly traces something on the back of your shirt. His overwhelming warmth and the pleasant sensation of him running his fingers lightly up and down your body has you slowly nodding off, and he takes notice of it as the movie comes to an end.

“Star, you okay?”

“‘m sleepy,” you mumble back, and you feel his chuckle rock your head as he pauses your laptop and closes it shut. He moves the device onto the floor and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close while you hum in sleepy contentment.

“Did you like the movie?” It comes out as a yawn from you, and you can feel your eyes water as they slowly begin to drift shut.

“I did, actually.” He brushes his fingers against your forehead, slowly pushing away your baby hairs as you subtly push your nose into his neck. “Reminded me why I do what I do at the DAA.”

That catches your attention, but you still keep your eyes shut as you mull over your next words. “What do you mean by that?”

“It reminds me that I do what I do for my family.”

“Hmm.” It’s a sleepy hum as silence befalls the two of you once more, but you’re more awake as you mull over Caleb’s words. His heart thrums erratically under your ear, and you swear it beats a little bit faster when your fingers brush against his chest as you move your hand closer to you.

“You really love them, huh?”

There’s no bitterness on your tone, only soft curiosity as Caleb stills underneath you. His hands stop their tracks, resting on your waist as he chooses his next words.

“I do.”

Caleb’s voice is raw with honesty, and he only waits a beat before he continues on. “I felt a lot of pressure making sure to provide for Meilin and Gran. You know Meilin and I were taken care of by Josephine when we were young, and she made me promise to always look after her. Sure, I was happy when I saw the invitation because I just want Meilin to be happy, and Xavier does. God, he does and I’m so happy about it. But…but a part of me will always feel the need to take care of them, if that makes sense. It’s been instilled with me for so long I don’t know what to do myself without it.”

“Caleb,” your voice is soft yet firm, gripping his shirt tighter as you fight the sleep that’s washing over your common sense. “Meilin and Josephine are already happy and cared for because of you and all of your hard work from the past couple of years. You deserve to have happiness of your own, too.”

You feel it then, even when you’re about to slip into sleep. The way his body stills, a shaky breath washing over the top of your head as he lets your words sink in.

It stays that way up until you finally succumb to sleep, too tired to process or even register that he hasn’t left - that’s he’s still cradling you to his chest as he mulls over your words and the moments the two of you have shared and avoided these past couple of months- years, even. But when you finally drift off to sleep, you swear you feel the soft brush of lips ghost lightly against your forehead, accompanied with a soft, “Good night, my star.”

You’re lighter, happier the days leading up to the wedding.

The days blur past you in an enthusiastic chaos, mornings spent exploring every nook and cranny of Linkon City interspersed with wedding party dinners you and Caleb are invited to until you reach the day of your dress fitting with Meilin.

She’s a chatty, effervescent bubble filled to the brim with fabric ideas paired with potential colors that suit your complexion while you sit on the chaise lounge by the dressing rooms, eyeing the glasses of champagne that seem too far out of reach for you to grab without seeming rude in her eyes.

So you sit, twisting your fingers against your skirt as you nod minutely.

“Do you have any ideas of what you want to wear, ____?”

You whip your head up to her, shaking your head profusely. “I- uh, as long as it’s not too expensive, I guess.”

She tuts at this, sitting down next to you while gesturing towards the dress racks. “Nonsense! Gran and I don’t have a budget. Here, we’ll look through all of the dresses and you can try them on for me one by one, okay?”

She doesn’t wait for your response, simply picking up a glass of champagne you had been eyeing earlier and handing it to you before clinking her own glass against it.

“To dresses and friendship!”

You barely get a sip before she’s pulling you off of the couch with her Hunter’s strength and guiding you through the boutique.

One by one you and Meilin collect dresses, handing them to attendants stationed around the room. Your mind is nowhere near focused on the frills and lace, though - no, you’re thinking about her relationship with a certain purple-eyed fighter pilot and Captain of the DAA.

“Meilin,” you begin tentatively, unsure of how to start. She simply hums as she pulls a hot pink tulle ball gown from the rack before wincing and shoving it back in. “What are your feelings towards Caleb?”

You expect her to go rigid but she laughs instead, the sound airy and full of good-natured humor as she turns to you with a soft smile on her face. “Best friend, older brother figure who I know I can always rely on. Also my personal chef and a little stinky but overall? He’s someone reliable and all around just a good person.” She fishes out a navy blue silk number and she looks at you with a critical eye before nodding once and leaving the dress with an attendant.

You try to go along casually but something still prickles at your skin. Why is Caleb still so protective over her after all of this time? And does Meilin see it? Your stare must have been a little too intense because she turns to look back at you before reaching out and lacing her fingers through your own.

“Caleb and I talked for a little while after you guys got home. He asked me why I didn’t tell him about the wedding and…I’m going to be honest, ____, I told him I knew he would flip out on me. He’s always been someone who protects me but I don’t need that anymore, I just want my best friend- you know?”

She releases her hand and the two of you continue to rifle through dresses. But you feel a little more confident, so it spills out of you:

“Did you and Caleb ever have feelings for each other?”

Meilin fake-gags at this, and you feel a sheepish look grow on your face at your possible question. Her expression smooths out, though and she shakes her head empathetically at you.

“I maaay have had a teensy little thing for Caleb when I was younger.” Meilin’s voice is soft as she brushes her fingers across a floor-length dress. She pulls it off of the rack and you still as you let her peer at you - allowing for her to visualize the color and embroidered flowers against your skin while she mulls over her next words.

Hey eyes snap up all of a sudden, and you feel goosebumps prickle at your skin at the sudden wisdom flickering in her eyes.

“But that’s all in the past, ____. I love Xavier with every fiber of my being. He’s my guiding force, the one I want to see at the end of my days. Caleb will always be my best friend and someone I want in my life forever, but Xavier…”

She sighs dreamily, handing you the hanger. Her fingers brush past yours, squeezing softly as she gives you a steadfast smile. “Xavier is the reason for my being.”

You squeeze her fingers back, letting the motion and melancholic look on your face speak the words that you don’t trust yourself to utter in the face of her genuine kindness. She tuts at your expression and squeezes your hand tighter, saying words that render you speechless:

“I think Caleb’s on track to picking someone close to his orbit…someone intelligent, dependable, and extremely beautiful. And I’ll be pushing for him to make a move soon, because quite frankly I’m getting tired of him waiting around.”

Her words shock you to your core, and you surprise the two of you when you let out a watery chuckle at her sweet statement. Meilin is gracious to turn around as the two of you begin to walk back to the dressing rooms, and you let yourself sniffle and process the fact that Meilin knows.

Not only that she knows, but that she wants the two of you to be together - that she thinks it’s the best thing.

So you let yourself feel a little bit lighter, allow yourself to feel hope blossom in your body as she drags you back to your dressing room with your numerous dresses in tow. The heavy feeling is gone and in its stead are two girls just having a fashion show in a mirrorless dressing room - Meilin squealing about your beauty with every dress you walk out of your dressing room, no matter how much it clashes with your complexion. You do feel pretty, but none of the dresses feel like you.

You sigh as you near the end of the pile, none of the dresses speaking to you. Meilin’s nonplussed though, simply pointing to the last dress she had placed in the pile. “I think that one might be the one, ____.”

You eye the numerous ties on the back of the dress as you take in the soft tulle and the little embroidered flowers scattered across the sweetheart neckline of the top. Your eyes flicker from Meilin’s hopeful face to the ties before sighing once more, nodding your head towards the small dressing room. “Can you help me tie the back?”

You can’t suppress your smile when she cheers at your relenting.

As you slip on the dress, you marvel at the way it hugs your body and emphasises you in a delicate way you’ve never seen before. The thin lace straps resting on your shoulders have little white and pink flowers stitched onto the delicate material, continuing a sweet trail down across the sweetheart neckline and onto the bodice. The fabric shimmers and shifts with every bit movement - flashes of soft yellow fading to a muted pear green depending on the lighting of the room while the pearls stitched throughout the fabric add to your glittering illusion. Paired with the layered ruffles at the end of the dress barely brushing the floor and the silk green ribbon that Meilin ties around your neck, you can’t help but know that this is your dress - even if you can’t see yourself in the mirror just yet. 

“Oh, ____,” she gasps as she zips up the back, fingers beginning to tighten the corset. “I think this dress might be it.”

A buzzing breaks your star-struck wonder, and you tilt your head back slightly to look at Meilin in confusion. “Is that yours?”

“Oh!” She steps away quickly and darts out of the dressing room, leaving you to run your fingers along the diaphanous fabric as she takes her call. You swear you hear a muted whisper of “Got it, Trip,” behind you but you elect to ignore it, simply imagining you out in the town in this dress and dancing in the arms of a faceless figure with sparkling sunset eyes.

Look at you. You’ve practically grown foolishly soft with love.

But you can’t help but smile to yourself. You want this.

 “____!” Meilin calls. You turn your neck so that you can look at her panic, eyes darting back and forth as she looks at you. “I’m so sorry but my boss is having a meltdown over at the Association. I’ll send an attendant to tighten your dress so that you can see the full effect and help you take it off, okay?” 

“No worries, Meilin,” you say with an easy smile. You above all know how quick things can change at work, so you wave her off. “Thank you, by the way.”

She beams at you, about to turn back around before she stops and whips her head back at you. “Don’t you dare try to pay for that stunning beauty of a dress! I already put it in the wedding budget!”

You laugh at her cheeky wink before she dashes away, leaving you alone. Your fingers play idly with the ribbon in the back, wondering if you can pull the strings yourself. Surely it’ll work out if you just do it yourself.

You hear a rustle, though, stopping you in your tracks. You peek out of the dressing room, about to let the attendant in-

-only for your eyes to widen when you see Caleb standing before you, the shock you feel in your chest reflected on his face.

“I-”

“____?” He asks. “What are you doing here?”

You flounder for an answer, pulling the curtain closer to your body as if it can help you disappear. “I was trying on dresses with Mei but she left. But forget about me, what the hell are you doing in a dress shop?!”

Caleb’s eyes widen in disbelief before he points at the sign on the window. You swing your head to view it, groaning when you see Bloomshore Dress and Tux Shop in neat script.

Shit, ____, your observation skills are down the drain.

“Gideon and Patrick asked me to meet up for a tux fitting?” It ends in a question, almost as if he’s unsure of the situation he’s just been thrust into. “But, uh, the people said they didn’t have my tux quite ready yet sooo they told me to sit here for now.” 

“Dammit,” you sigh, running a hand over the top of your head to ease your nerves at this situation devolving to being just you and him. “I was supposed to get the back of this dress corseted up and then I was gonna take a picture for Meilin before taking it off-”

“You’re wearing a dress?”

It comes out as a dazed whisper from Caleb and you feel prickles erupt on your skin when you see his cheeks flush lightly. He swallows heavily, Adam’s apple bobbing thickly before he manages to get out, “Can I see?”

You hesitate for a second, and for a split second you wonder if this entire thing will end up crashing all around you. What’s going to happen when the two of you go back to the DAA base and you have missions to execute? Will you ever be able to get back to the way the two of you were before this- fuck, since before the kiss you shared all those months ago?

You scan his face slowly, looking for any sort of hesitation from him. There’s nothing, though. It’s just Caleb, looking devastatingly handsome like he always does as he stares at you like you’ve hung all of the stars in the sky.

Your fingers twitch before they loosen, letting go of the curtain with a soft swish.

And you see the exact moment Caleb’s composure slips: eyes widening, jaw clenching before his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. His eyes follow a dangerous curve down your face to examine the way the dress flows around your body, and you swear you can feel the trail of sparks his gaze leaves tingling on your skin.

He frowns slightly, though, when he sees the way your hands clutch at the back of your dress.

“Come here.”

It’s soft, slightly hoarse as you tentatively approach him. He positions you in front of him so that you’re looking at the mirror while he stands behind you, and you loose a sigh at the vision of you in the mirror as you let your hands fall from your back for him to examine the ties.

Meilin’s right.

This is the one.

And by the way his breath is uneven against the nape of your neck, you know Caleb agrees.

“So I just…” His voice has dropped an octave, quiet as he pulls you slightly closer so that he can pull lightly at one of the ties experimentally. The corset squeezes you ever so slightly and you gasp, making him look up at you in panic as he settles his hands on your waist almost unknowingly.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His fingers flex at your sides and you reach out and slide your fingers in between his, giving him a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you breathe out unsteadily. “Just uh…just a warning, okay?”

“R-right,” he stutters out, and when he moves his hands back to your corset, you duck your head so he can’t see your smile in the mirror.

You can feel yourself shiver when Caleb’s breath washes over your bare shoulders, though. His fingers barely brushing your spine as he threads his fingers along your corset ties. “Is this okay, star?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

You see him nod in the mirror, amethyst eyes flashing with something unknown before he begins.

For how calloused and big his hands are, Caleb’s exceptionally gentle as he tightens your corset. You hum when it feels too tight or too loose but for the most part he’s able to gauge your comfort just from how you breathe, loosening a loop if he hears your catch for even a second. Soon enough, he’s knotting the ties in a pretty bow as you look in the mirror, trying to reconcile the fact that this is you.

“All done,” he says softly. His hands move from your back, hovering slightly over your body before he lets them hang by his sides. You don’t have to look at them to know he’s shaking - you can feel the tremble of his chest behind you, brushing up against your back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, giving him a soft grin in the mirror.

Your eyes wander over your visage, turning so that you can see the shifts between pale yellow and pear green in real time. You feel a smile wash over your face as you turn, allowing for the dress to twirl around your ankles as you spin on your bare tiptoes. The feeling is so thrilling and you can’t help but laugh, tilting your head back at the pure happiness that envelopes your body as you miss the way Caleb’s jaw goes slack at your unbridled joy. It bathes you in an indescribable light, illuminating you from the inside out as he feels his stomach do flips.

You’re beautiful.

Every inch of you, overwhelmingly so.

You finally stop, your soft laughter fading as you finally see the way he looks at you. Eyes soft at the corners, the set of his jaw gentle as he gazes at you - everything about him defenseless. His hand trembles as he reaches up towards your face, but you still just enough for him to see the nod you give him before he allows himself to cup your face in his palms. He holds you reverently, thumbs brushing against every inch of skin he can reach and you reach up to circle his wrists with your fingers, pulling him closer so that your chests brush and he looms over you.

“You’re stunning.”

He says it like it’s a well known fact, just like the laws of gravity that dictate your universe and everything around you. But it steals your breath away from you all of the same, eyes flickering as you look at him in shock.

“Caleb,” you whisper, stepping back slightly. His feet follow you and before you know it you’re pressed up against the mirror as he lets his hands drift from your face to your waist, letting you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer - noses brushing, chests rising and moving with the same breath.

“You’ve robbed this room of all of the oxygen in it,” he says rawly, and with how shallowly he says it as he steals your own oxygen from your lungs you almost believe him. “Do you know what you do to me? It’s hard for me to compose myself or even breathe properly around you because you take my breath away, ____.” 

“Cheesy.” You try to sound brave, but your voice wavers just enough for him to know that you feel it too.

“Only for my star.” Unlike before, it’s steady with his conviction. His head begins to duck down and your lips almost brush, eyes never leaving each other as you each examine the other’s face. You’re floored by the sheer honesty and longing on his face, his eyes tracing the delicate curve of your cheek as your own gaze begins to flutter shut.

There’s a silent whisper though, a promise to make sure that things stayed normal between you reverberating through your brain with a vengeance. You return your eyes to his and you whisper:

“Are we still pretending, Caleb?”

His eyes turn soft, and his hand reaches up to cradle your cheek as he looks at you like you’re his universe. His mouth opens, and-

“-Mr. Xia, your tu- oh!”

If the air in the room had gone thin previously, it suddenly comes rushing back and fills the two of you with crushing clarity. Caleb pushes him off with quick precision, subtly adjusting the front of his baggy shirt to hang loosely above the front of his pants as you cough, brushing the creases of your dress away.

“I’m uh, I’ll just-” The attendant tries to begin, but you hold your hands out to placate them a little bit.

“It’s okay!” You exclaim, although frustration bubbles in your chest at being interrupted once again. You step forward towards them, willing for your hands to stop shaking. “I’m done with this dress if you’ll help me take it off. Only if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course!” The attendant chirps, practically sprinting to a dressing room and pulling open the curtain for you. “Right this way, Ms. ____! Once this dress is off I’ll package it and send it home with you!”

“Thank you,” you reply softly. You pick up the delicate fabric and walk towards the dressing room, although you can feel the way Caleb’s eyes bore into your back.

“____.”

You turn back around and cock your head, confusion on your face. “Yes?”

Caleb’s eyes trace your figure softly once more before he drags them back up to his face - his eyes honing into the plush of your lips as he swallows thickly. You hold back on biting your lip, wrapping your arms around your waist to wait for what he wants to say.

“I’ll see you at the wedding?”

“Yes,” you murmur with a small smile on your lips. You give him a nod before turning around, walking away with the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach being nearly enough to have you float away.

You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine and you never want to come down.

There’s an undercurrent of excitement when you step into the ceremony space with Gideon and Patrick.

There’s tasteful bits of greenery all throughout the room, lilies and moon-shaped designs incorporated throughout the space. Above your heads are curtains of the same greenery draped tastefully, lanterns illuminating the space and casting everything with a warm, romantic glow. Everyone’s dressed in their best finery, and you sigh blissfully to yourself as you, Patrick, and Gideon settle in your designated seats. Your eyes never stop wandering, though, going from greenery to lilies to Xavier, who looks like he’s about to burst into tears as Jeremiah pats him on the back while waiting for the processional to start.

“You think Caleb’s going to cry?” Gideon’s tone is gleeful as he elbows you and Patrick, and you roll your eyes as you brush a piece of lint off of his suit.

“Patrick has a better chance of crying, honestly,” you shrug as you smooth out the nonexistent creases on your dress. You cross your legs, smiling as you see the shift from yellow to green underneath the romantic light. “And then you, and then me.”

“You’re lying,” he scoffs. “You’re much more of a softie than Patrick and I, ____.”

“I’m not going to cry,” you steadily declare. The lights slowly dim and you quickly sit up, casting them a glance as music begins to swell. “I’m going to keep it together.”

The music picks up and you watch as the procession starts, feeling your breath slowly grow uneven as tears begin to prick at your eyes. You blink rapidly as the bridesmaids begin to walk gracefully down the aisle, scolding yourself in your head because really, ____? Meilin isn’t even down the aisle yet-

Oh.

The entire venue stands as the music swells, Meilin standing arm in arm with Caleb and their Gran in front of the grand doors. She’s a vision as she walks down the aisle to the love of her life, the gentle tulle flowers on the long train of her dress giving the impression of her leaving petals in her wake. Your eyes flick up to Xavier and your heart warms at the sight of tears streaming down his face as he looks at her with all of the love in the world, nearly moving you to your own tears as she finally reaches the end of the aisle.

Meilin leans down to give Josephine a kiss on her cheek before she walks away, leaving her and Caleb standing at the end of the aisle as Xavier walks towards them. Meilin pulls Caleb down for a hug and he holds her tightly, a whispered word on his end making a tear slide down her cheek as she pulls back. Caleb and Xavier look at each other before Caleb holds his hand out, shaking Xavier’s hand firmly and finally pushing Meilin towards him before moving to stand beside the rest of the bridal party.

As the ceremony starts, you find your eyes wandering over Caleb’s form. The tuxedo he wears fits him like a glove, hair slicked back just enough to show off his forehead as he pays attention to the beginning. You vaguely register being instructed to sit down, and as you settle back to your seat you see Caleb’s eyes finally begin to scan the room around him.

You watch Caleb’s gaze scan the rows as he bounces subtly on his heels, perhaps looking for your group? His eyes widen when he sees Gideon and Patrick and he gives them a smile and a cheeky wink before moving his stare to you.

And the entire world stills, leaving just you and him.

Caleb's jaw goes slack when he sees your face, carefully done so that your natural beauty is still at the forefront. Everything in you stops as he carefully traces the delicately styled curls framing your face and the little flower and pearl pins holding your hair up before moving down, looking at the dress you’ve both grown to love so much.

All of a sudden, his eyes snap back up to yours and your breath catches in your throat. His gaze is full of longing and awe as his mouth forms a shape, and you realize belatedly he’s mouthing something to you as the ceremony continues. You flick your eyebrow up delicately, and you see him release a little amused puff of air before he mouths it again.

Beautiful.

Your body heats as you wait for Caleb to throw a wink in your way, maybe joking subtly to lighten the mood as you vaguely hear Xavier begin his vows. But he does none of it - he just looks at you with that same quiet intensity, eyes full of an unspoken feeling and yearning that the two of you share.

“____? Are you all right?”

You turn your head to the side when you hear Gideon’s whisper, and you bring your fingers up to your face when you suddenly register tears streaming down your cheeks. You delicately wipe them away before releasing a shaky breath, nodding and feeling yourself genuinely smile.

“I’m perfect.”

You direct your gaze back to Caleb, who’s face has a soft tinge of concern at your supposed pain. But you feel none of those negative emotions, only bubbling happiness that shoots up and down your spine as you finally, finally smile at him. His eyes widen and an emotion fills his eyes, soft and matching what you feel as Meilin and Xavier finish their vows, sealing themselves as a newly married couple.

Even when the ceremony space breaks out in cheers as Xavier dips Meilin down for a kiss, your eyes never leave each other, and you can’t help but giggle wetly to yourself as you wipe at the tears in the corners of your eyes continuously.

Oh, how you love Caleb Xia.

And oh, how you love the hope you’re allowing yourself to feel - the hope that he may love you, too.

That floating feeling doesn’t stop, even hours into the reception.

The space Meilin and Xavier rented out for the party is even more stunning than the ceremony hall, tables set up in neat rows on one side to accommodate the giant dance floor and buffet on the other side. The same greenery and moon bunny motifs are carried in here but it just feels more relaxed, leading to you chatting with some other guests before the wedding party showed up.

Meilin and Xavier enter the hall to cheers, smiles never leaving their faces as Xavier spins Meilin around to show off her silky reception dress before pulling her back in and dipping her down for a romantic kiss. You, Gideon, and Patrick cheer alongside the people at your table, and you can’t help but laugh when you see the dazed look in Meilin’s eyes after Xavier took her breath away.

While dinner was underway, Jeremiah gave a speech that had Xavier burning red while Meilin laughed at him, only for Caleb to turn the tables on her and make her sob with a sweet speech that left no eyes dry, Gideon’s and Patrick’s especially. You were quick to console them, but you were also dabbing away your own tears - especially when he looked at you during a tender moment.

Now, though? The tenderness has given way to a rager, and you laugh as Gideon executes a perfect worm with one of Meilin’s coworkers on the dance floor. You stand on the side of the dance floor, cheering when Patrick hops in at the perfect moment next to Gideon and they begin to execute their increasingly intricate dance routine to the enthusiasm of Hunter’s Association.

“____!”

Meilin somehow ends up beside you and she smiles widely at you, pulling you towards the middle of the dance floor. You laugh when you see her headband that has THE MOST LOVED MRS. SHEN in fluorescent letters above her head, and you let her drag you to the center as you both begin to dance.

“I! Love! This! Song!” She’s screaming above the music, moving her arms to the beat as you attempt to match her energy. You just end up laughing even harder, though, happiness overtaking your entire body as you pull her into your arms and give her a hug.

“I’m happy for you!” It’s soft, whispered in her ear as Meilin sniffles at your sweet sentiment. She hugs you back tightly and the two of you still, even as movement continues all around you. You’re happy that she’s your friend and that your apprehension on this trip has gone away, leaving you just warm and so fulfilled.

At one point, Meilin’s bridesmaids join in on the fray and they jump around you, screaming the lyrics to a cheesy pop song that has all of you giggling once more. Everything in this moment is electric and you can’t think of how it could possibly get better-

The music slows, and the crowd groans in good nature as a slower song comes on. There’s a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to smile at Xavier as he winks at you before pointing to Meilin behind you.

“Can I get a dance with my beloved wife, ____?”

“Of course.” You smile and tuck a stray curl behind your ear, letting Xavier scoop Meilin up in his arms. You turn around with a wink, marking your leave with a small kiss in Meilin’s direction as Xavier begins to sway her around.

You make your way to a small alcove by the refreshments stand, getting yourself a glass of water and drinking greedily to quench your thirst. You watch as the couple on the dance floor sway to the gentle song, lighting gone low to contribute to the romantic mood. 

“____.”

You don’t need to turn to hear who it is, but you still tilt your head to the side as Caleb approaches you. He’s long taken off his tux jacket, sleeves pushed up to his elbow and tie loosened as he pushes his hair up off of his forehead. There’s an easy charm to him that has your stomach flipping, and you place your glass on the table behind you as he settles himself next to you.

“You look like you’ve had fun.” There’s subtle teasing on your voice and it makes Caleb chuckle quietly as he shuffles a little closer to you, making your fingers brush lightly. Sparks run up and down your arm at the subtle contact, and you feel your eyes grow wide at the intense stare on his own face.

“You look like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the opportunity to see.”

He punctuates his statement by sweeping you into his arms, making you gasp and settle your hands on his chest. He slowly begins to sway you around to the song in the background, and you fist his shirt in your hands slightly while tilting your head up to look at him. There’s a breathlessness on Caleb’s face, awe and deeper emotions mixing in his eyes that causes your own breath to escape your lips unsteadily.

“Are we done pretending, Caleb Xia?”

The answer to the question that’s evaded you time and time again is finally said, but there’s no grief in it. It’s just a quiet murmur, a whisper to your desires that has his eyes softening as he reaches up to cup your cheek.

“Yes, ____.” 

He says it with absolute certainty, and he dips his head down to leave a tender kiss on your forehead pulling away slightly. He turns you in a slow circle and the lights shift around the two of you, bathing him with a hazy glow that has your heart beating just a little more erratically as you move to stand on your tiptoes.

“Good.” It’s steady leaving your mouth as you let your nose brush against his. “I’m tired of pretending, Captain Apple.”

“Yeah, star?” He dips down a little lower, his lips almost brushing yours as your eyes slowly begin to slip shut. “I-”

“Caleb!”

Meilin’s voice breaks the two of you from your stupor, and you feel yourself flush slightly as you put a little distance between the two of you before smoothing the creases from your dress. Caleb, however, looks like he wants to murder the teasing smile from Mei’s face as he steps away from you slightly.

“This better be good, Meilin. I was busy-” he begins hotly, but resignation blooms on his face as she grabs his arm and begins to drag him towards the floor, to his chagrin and your quiet laughter.

“I already danced with Gran!” She’s laughing, and you can’t help but smile at the infectious happiness as Caleb looks back at you in exasperation. “I need to do the cheesy slow dance with someone who’s basically my older brother! C’mon-”

Caleb, all the while, gazes back at you with a longing in his eyes that lets you know he doesn’t want to go. You simply shake your head and smile, nodding in the direction of the dance floor encouragingly. 

“Wait for me,” he says.

“I will,” you whisper back, more to yourself than to him. Still, he sees your relenting and finally eases, letting Meilin fully drag him to the dance floor with no complaints.

Serenity settles itself in your soul as you see the two of them dancing, Caleb and Meilin laughing as he spins her around in dizzying circles. You don’t feel any jealousy, though, only happiness that the two of them worked out the awkwardness and that they’re back to being childhood best friends who always stood side by side.

Your eyes wander the room before landing on an ajar door to your left, and you make your way out so that you can feel some cool air on your skin. You hum to yourself when you find yourself in a garden, and you’re careful to pick up your skirt as you look over the moonlit majesty of the shrubs and flowers lining the sidewalk you’re standing on. You can still hear the party from the scattered open doors, but it’s peaceful enough that you can soak in your happiness as you amble slowly.

The wind chills slowly as the moon rises higher in the sky, stars twinkling as you feel goosebumps prickle at your skin. You look down at your dress and sigh, electing to go back to the hall so that you can pick up a glass of champagne and get the thin scarf that came with your dress. You’re about to step inside-

“Caleb, you need to be honest with ____.”

Patrick sounds severe, cutting through the tranquility of the garden as you freeze. Somewhere in the fray you hear Gideon nodding in agreement and Caleb sighing in frustration, and you decide then and there to listen in on them.

This is pertaining to you.

Their words are muffled as you duck behind a column by an open door, the music blaring from the dance floor making it a safe place for you to duck inside quickly before stepping back outside, crouching by another column and straining your ears so you can hear the heated discussion happening right outside. There’s a lull in the words so you peek out just a little bit more, gripping the column as you fight to hear what they’re arguing about-

“-she’s not Meilin, not at all.”

Your heart stops.

Caleb’s voice continues hotly, and you feel your hands begin to tremble as he spills his emotions for you to finally hear. “I can’t keep pretending with ____. I just can’t.”

The honesty is painful but you’re thankful because it pulls you out of the bullshit fantasy you were living in. You fight to steady your breathing as you listen to him break your heart, unaware that you’re even here. You’re grateful, though, because you finally know how he truly feels about you - that his pretending was just a means to an end to him.

That you should just stop.

That you’ll never be enough for him.

“She’s never going to be someone like Meilin. Meilin is bright, bubbly- commands the room with every smile she throws around like confetti. She’s welcoming and talkative and…and ____ will never be that, you know?”

You can practically feel the uncomfortable silence that the three of them descend into before Gideon’s low voice cuts through the tension. “So why don’t you tell her that, Caleb?”

You’ve heard enough. More than enough.

You don’t need to hear what Caleb thinks about you. He’s been playing you this entire time.

You force yourself to push your trembling body through the door, and you see Gideon’s and Patrick’s faces light up in panic as they register that it’s you - you in this beautiful dress that suddenly feels too heavy and too light all at once - the numerous ties holding the dress closed strangling the air from out of your lungs while leaving you and your emotions naked for the two of them to see.

“____,” Patrick breathes, making Caleb’s head whip around in a frenzy as he sees you standing there.

His eyes widen but you shake your head once, twice, three times before turning around and running as fast as you can.

You step on the front of the dress heavily as you run back into the main ballroom, making you hitch up the slippery fabric so that you can run just a little bit faster. You can hear a frantic shout of your name but you ignore it, locating the front exit right by the dance floor where the party continues to dance late into the night.

You don’t think. You plunge into the crowd, effortlessly weaving and bobbing through the enthusiastic throng of people as you attempt to lose Caleb in the dancing bodies. Your vision blurs with tears but you blink them away, focused on your objective of getting as far away as you can-

-only to bump into a body draped in white silk surrounded by the telltale pale blue dresses of the bridesmaids, Meilin holding onto your elbows as she looks at you with worry.

“____, are you okay?” Her kindness makes your heart twinge and you know you should respond, put on a brave face at this unending warmth you do not deserve but you can only think about his words, of how you’ll never be her and how you will never be enough for Caleb-

“I need to go,” you gasp, and you all but rip yourself from her body when you hear the panicked yells scarily close to where the two of you stand in the middle of the dance floor. Meilin’s eyes widen at the sound but you don’t wait for her realization to hit her, instead electing to run as fast as your heels allow you to go.

“Caleb Xia, what the fuck did you do-”

Meilin’s voice is shrill - loud enough for you to hear even when you finally escape from the throng of people. There’s a small part of you that’s thankful for Meilin and her support but it’s swiftly drowned out by your brain screaming at you to keep going so that you don’t have to face the fallout. Your feet ache as you continue to run, toes pinched tight by the beautiful silk heels that you’re thankful have ties because you would have absolutely broken your ankle by now if it weren’t for them. Ahead of you lies the curb and the street where taxis would be, where your escape is. Your exit is so close - all you need to do now is get to the curb and wave for a taxi to take you away from this mess.

You’re almost there-

Gravity stops you in your tracks, making your heels stiffen as you try to move forward. You see the flashes of blue and orange traveling across your body before it lifts you up with a gentleness, spinning you around and guiding you back to the Evol user’s vision. You’re stunned into silence as you see Caleb’s plush lips pressed in a thin line, finger beckoning you closer before settling you gently onto the pavement. 

“That’s foul play, Xia.” Your voice is cold, hands clenched in fists as you try to maintain your icy composure. Caleb’s eyes widen at your facade and he goes to step closer to you but you hold your hand up, turning your head slightly so you don’t have to look at the supposed devastation across his face.

“____-”

“I know I’ll never be Meilin.” The words are acrid as you all but spit them out and you can’t help but laugh shortly at his audacity to look hurt. “But having us pretend? Did you decide that being honest wasn’t enough? You wanted to give me a consolation prize?”

“That’s not at all what I meant.” His voice wavers as he steps closer to you, but you simply turn your body and try to keep your body from shaking. “____, everything came out wrong and I need you to know that I didn’t mean it like that.”

“So what did you mean, Captain Xia?” Caleb’s face flashes with hurt at your usage of his title, but you can’t find it in yourself to care in the face of your breaking heart. “What did you mean when you said that I will never be Meilin, your perfect best friend?”

“____, please look at me.” You lift your head slightly to see his panic, never letting yourself fully gaze into those amethyst eyes as he steps closer to you, arms brushing as he tries to mend what he’s shattered. “You’re my north star, the one guiding me home-”

“-but I’ll never be enough to be the one you choose at the end of the day.”

It’s a lethal slice of words, silence enveloping the two of you once more as you finally turn your body to face him. He looks utterly forlorn, eyes darting back and forth across your face as he tries to say something to make it up to you, but you can only laugh as you fill the silence for the both of you instead.

“I get it, Xia, I do.” Your voice is a bitter whisper, wrapping your arms around your body as you shake from the cold and what you’re about to say. “Mei’s your childhood best friend and someone who’s going to be there for you forever. She’s perfect and bubbly and warm and so beloved by all while I’m just…me. Someone easy to pretend with.”

“No, you don’t get it, ____.” He’s desperate and your eyes widen as he staggers down in front of you, grabbing your hands so that he can press his face into your cold palms. “Everything I said about Meilin is true but ____, my star, you are the North that guides me home. You are the earth beneath my feet that keeps me stable and the air in my lungs whenever everything suddenly feels too overwhelming. You’re in my dreams and in the stars in the sky, in sunsets and in clouds and in flowers. I see your smile and I know I’m fucked because that’s the smile I would fight and bleed to death for, because all I want is for you to keep those smiles and laughs and breaths for myself. But it’s also the smile that makes me fly safer, the smile I keep in my mind when I go in and out of the Deepspace Tunnel and fuck, ____, I need you to believe me.”

Your heart sinks as his face searches yours, eyes wild for some sort of way to have you understand him, that he truly means every word he says-

“Where was this in the bar the first time you kissed me?” Your voice has softened at his start of a confession, but the words are still veiled with cynicism as you search his face for any sort of truth. “Why didn’t you tell me this the first time around? Or at the night market? Why did you hesitate to tell me these things until you thought it might have been too late? Why did you have us pretend in the first place when it’s never been pretend for me, Xia?”

Your vision wavers and a tear falls from the corner of your eye, slowly rolling down your cheek before splashing on his nose. The amethyst eyes you love so much widen at your pain, fingers reaching up to try and brush the droplets betraying your true hurt off of your face but you shake your head, quick to circle your fingers around his wrist to stop him.

“I love you.” It’s a quiet and teary whisper, yet it’s steady with conviction as you see the way his face crumples. “But I don’t think it’s enough for the both of us…is it?”

“I love-”

“No, Caleb Xia.” You push his shoulders away from body, sobs making your entire body tremble like a leaf as you point at him accusatorily. “You don’t get to say that. Not until you get me to believe that I’m not your consolation prize.”

You step away from his kneeling and rattled form, pressing your hand against your mouth so that you can try to stop the ugly sobs escaping your lips. Your vision is stilted and the words spill out of your mouth almost unwittingly, but they’re the only words that make sense in your head as you leave your bleeding heart crushed in between his calloused fingers.

“I'll get the last train to Skyhaven. Don’t bother following me.”

And you turn on your heels, leaving pieces of you on the sidewalk in front of him because there’s no way anyone will ever be able to help you patch yourself up again.

Not when you’ve been utterly shattered to your core.

You lied.

You didn’t end up going back to Skyhaven.

You ended up going to a hotel you booked at the last minute after furiously packing all of your belongings and leaving the dress and shoes you can no longer bear to look at on the bed. You hadn't let yourself shatter until you were safe in the hotel room, curling up on the bed and sobbing your eyes out as the hair you had so carefully pinned with the precious pins slowly came undone.

You’ve been here since, ignoring how your phone buzzes every five minutes as people try to contact you. Patrick in particular had blown up your phone after you had turned off your location, but you had simply texted him that you were safe and that you would be back at the DAA after you finished the rest of your allotted vacation leave.

Which gave you about five more days of quiet to pick up your heart before you returned to your harsh reality.

You’ve gone back to finishing up reports and scanning flight logs for upcoming missions, not giving yourself time to think about your disaster of a love life. Your phone buzzes once again and you allow yourself to pick it up just to see who it is, swiftly closing it and placing it back by your side when you see his name flash on the screen once more.

✉ [12:57] DO NOT RESPOND: please, ____. i need to see you and set things right, please.

Your heart aches even at your brave face, scanning your application for transfer. You don’t quite know if a person breaking your heart is grounds for a transfer to a different unit, but surely they’ll let you do it…right?

There’s a knock on your door and you freeze, wondering if you’ve been caught. You’re quiet on your feet as you approach the door, looking through the peephole and feeling your mouth drop open in shock. You open the door almost immediately, and their names fall out of your mouth in shock.

“Meilin? Xavier?” 

Xavier looks sad for you as Meilin’s eyes swell with tears, and you realize belatedly that Xavier’s carrying two bags. He catches you staring at them before he says softly, “Noodles since we thought you’d be hungry. And Mei wanted to return it to you.”

You have no idea what the it is they’ve mentioned, but it’s enough for Meilin to burst into tears as she pulls into a hug. You bite your lip as you hug her back tightly, staring up at the ceiling to quell your tears away. All the while, Xavier maneuvers himself into the room and places both bags on your bed before gently pushing the two of you inside, giving you a pleading look before closing the door behind him.

Leaving the two of you alone.

“I’m so sorry,” Meilin sobs as you both awkwardly maneuver into the room together, the both of you finally sitting on the couch by the window as you finally allow yourself to cry too. Twin sobs shake both of your bodies as you both cling to each other, but Meilin’s sobs stop quick enough for you to fully collapse into her as she hugs you tightly, stroking your back as you weep from the ache in your heart.

“I’m sorry about how I left your wedding, Mei.” You don’t know why that’s the first thing that pops into your head, but it makes your cries echo louder across the room as Meilin shushes you. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me and I leave like that-”

“Are you kidding me, ___?!” She pulls you away from her slightly, making you sniffle when you see the serious expression on her face. “You’ve been nothing but an angel and I’m so happy that we’re friends, I’m so sorry for what happened to you honey.”

“It’s okay,” you mumble. “I should have known he didn’t feel the same way about me. I was just a fool, Mei.”

“You are not a fool, ____.” Meilin’s voice is sharp as she stands up from the couch, pulling the curtains open and letting sunlight stream into the space. A sprawling view of Linkon City appears before you as she goes to your bed, grabbing the takeout bag and pulling out cartons of zhe jiang mian. She holds one out to you with the sternness of a mother duck and you comply, cracking open the lid and letting yourself soak in the smell of the savory aroma.

“I was a fool for thinking he’d love me too, Mei.”

Her hand freezes at your statement, chopsticks halfway to you. You feel a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes but you blink them away, plucking the chopsticks from her hand and scootching over to give her some space on the couch.

“Caleb is so stupid.” Meilin grumbles it with vehemence as she settles down next to you, opening her container a little too forcefully. Her annoyance makes you crack for a single second, a small quirk of your lip that quickly vanishes with the searing hurt in your chest. “After I basically drilled into his thick skull to go after you? To tell you how he really feels about you? What a stupid idiot.”

“At least I know what he truly thinks of me now.” It’s resigned as you poke at a noodle. “Now I know how he really feels so I can squash whatever feelings I have.”

“____, no-”

Meilin grabs at the container in your hands and quickly stands, placing it on the dresser before sitting back down and pulling your head so that it rests on her shoulder. You don’t sob this time, but the tears still stream down your face in steady rivulets as you bring your hand up to clutch at your chest.

“I’m never going to be you.” It’s a trembling exhalation, words painted with hurt as you force them out for her to hear. “I just wish that I was enough for him, too.”

“God, he really messed this up, did he?” You can’t even find the energy to laugh, simply trying to keep your breathing even as she reaches down and grips your hand tightly. “____, he doesn’t need someone like me. We bicker and annoy each other all of the time. ____, he needs someone like you.”

“Mei, that’s not true-”

“Someone who can challenge him." She cuts you off, too engrossed in her ramblings to hear your protests as she continues on. “Someone who brings him happiness, who makes him laugh and is also someone who guides him down the right path. Someone he puts first because he wants to, ____, not because of the circumstances the two of us were forced into as kids.

“He really wants to, ____.” Her emotions are clear as day on her face as she looks down at you, eyes shimmering with honesty. “God, ____, Caleb wants you and only you and I support the hell out of him for that because you’re so wonderful inside and out.”

You duck your head as you feel tears gathering once more, making you annoyed as you mull over the words she’s said to you. Why can’t you stop crying?

“It hurts, Meilin.”

Her face crumples at your vulnerability and she pulls you in quickly as you begin to sob once more . “I’m so sorry, ____.”

Your tears never stop as you cling to her like a lifeline, trying your hardest to stem the flow but it never stops. No, it keeps going as you go through your stages of grief, processing every emotion until you’re ready to go on to the next one. All the while, she clings to you and brushes your baby hairs back from your face, not minding the tears staining her shirt.

“You know, ____, he asked for his dog tags back.”

It comes as a quiet confession after your sobs have mostly subsided, breath hiccuping in your throat as Meilin reaches into her pocket, pulling out the thin silver When U Come Back plate. It dangles on its chain, although you notice that the apple charm is conspicuously missing from the set.

“What happened to the apple charm?” You ask softly. Meilin’s eyes sparkle with nostalgia, but it’s not bad - it’s as if she’s reliving her shared childhood with the man the two of you love. Still, her smile is soft as she looks at you with a muted sadness.

“He said I was always going to be someone he views as his little sister and best friend, but that he needed his official dog tags back for someone important. He gave this back to me pretty easily. Said something about updating it to fit the current time, too.”

“Mei-” you begin, but she cuts you off with a tighter hug that you immediately reciprocate.

“Caleb- Caleb is rash and abrasive and he doesn’t think sometimes, ____. But I swear to you that he feels for you, so much more than you even know. I’m sorry for anything I’ve caused between the two of you, I- ____, he’ll always be someone I grew up with but I told him it’s time for him to put himself first instead of me and Gran, you know? He deserves to be happy too, and he’s happiest when he’s with you.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize you’re crying again. They stream steadily down your cheeks, but they don’t hurt anymore.

No, they don’t hurt at all. Not when you’re so numb now.

Meilin looks up, and her eyes are similarly red-rimmed as you let her hug you tightly once more before pulling away, looking at you pleadingly. “I mean it, ____. Caleb’s a good person, but he’s so much more when he’s around you. I’ve never seen him that happy before- you bring it out of him.”

“I love him, Meilin.” Her eyes soften at your statement, and she reaches up delicately to wipe some tears from your face. “I love him so much.”

“Wait for him, ____, my friend.” Your face crumples at her sweet sentiment, but the flick she directs at your forehead makes the moment feel less heavy as you instead reach up to brush away the numerous tear tracks on your cheeks. “He’ll go to you soon, I promise.”

You let your head settle on her shoulder as you finally, finally let yourself breathe slowly from the suffocating emotions you’ve felt since you’ve gone to Linkon. But in its wake leaves a steady reassurance that no matter what happens, you have support - a new family waiting for you at the end of the line.

All the while, Meilin pats your back as she soothes you. Her eyes are directed outside of the window to the floating speck in the distance: Skyhaven, where Caleb’s waiting for you.

“Don’t mess this up, idiot.” She grumbles lowly to herself.

She knows he won’t, though.

Not when he loves you.

Something in you feels a little less heavy when you finish organizing your stuff in your quarters.

It’s a metaphorical closing chapter to the trip as you methodically organize clothes you need to wash, your laptop back at its proper place as music blares softly from the speakers. You hum along to the beat, grabbing the last box Meilin had given to you when she and Xavier visited you and opening it.

Your dress is folded neatly inside, your shoes carefully packaged so that no dirt gets on the delicate material. You pull it up by the straps and let the garment unfurl to the floor so you can give it a shake before hanging it up in your closet. You frown when you see another purple bundle fall out from in between the folds, however, and you settle the dress back in its box gently before picking up the crumpled ball and letting it unfold for you to see what it is.

XIA.

Your heart skips a beat when you see the basketball jersey, slightly wrinkled and still faintly smelling of his apple perfume. Your eyes between your already overflowing laundry basket and the crumpled garment before you sigh, tossing it in with the rest of the load and picking the basket up.

You’ll just fold it back up and leave it at his door and then you can go back to avoiding him again. You approach your door and swing it wide open, ready to spend hours at the laundry room-

“Oh.”

Caleb stands in front of you, clad in sweatpants and a baggy white tee as his fist hangs to where your door used to be. Despite how comfy he looks, though, he looks utterly wrecked - heavy bags under his eyes hinting at his lack of sleep.

He still looks devastatingly handsome though, and his eyes shimmer slightly when he sees your face by your open door.

“Can I come in?”

It’s hoarse, full of pleading as he looks at you like you’re the air he’s been deprived of for a long time. You don’t speak, simply turning back around and making enough room for him to step inside and close the door behind him as you plop the basket back by the end of your bed.

It’s awkward as you eye the dress and its box on your bed, and you decide that the best course of action is to continue moving so he doesn’t see the way your frame trembles under his scrutiny. After grabbing a hanger from your closet you make your way to your bed, arranging the straps neatly in the notches and making sure that the fabric is smooth before going back to your closet and making a space for it amongst your uniforms.

“You were beautiful during the wedding.”

“This dress was a big part of it.” It’s a soft mumble as you give one more push to your uniforms, finally making enough space so that it doesn’t get lost in the clothes of your closet. You slot it in neatly and continue to avoid his eyes as you pick up the shoes, pulling them from the bag and settling them on your shoe rack. 

“Let me correct myself,” he says as the two of you approach your bed simultaneously. His hands beat you to the box, and he sets it on your desk as you finally allow yourself to look up.

And what a mistake that is.

His vulnerability is on show for you, nothing clouding his expression as he looks at you with a deep longing. You can feel yourself shake under the intensity of his gaze, so you fold your arms as you fight to stay neutral.

“You were correcting yourself?”

It’s bland, not giving away how your heart pounds in your chest as Caleb’s eyes light up at your quiet allowance. His hands slowly move out towards your arms and when you don’t shy back, he rests his fingers on your arms as he begins to untangle them.

“You’re always beautiful.”

It’s raw, almost unwitting as he finally untangles your arms. There’s no hesitation on his face as he pulls you closer, just enough so that you’re looking up at him as your chests brush with your breaths.

“Are you sure you’re not pretending, Xia?”

It’s resigned from your mouth, no bitterness or anger as your eyes dip down to avoid his face. But you find yourself captured by something, and something in you stills when you see silver tags resting on his chest.

He sees you go still when you catch sight of them, and he releases a puff of air as his hands move up to lift his chain for your eyes to see. “No, ____, I was never pretending.”

Caleb steps closer to you, fingers barely shaking as he holds out his chain for you to see. You can see the little apple charm on the chain, a subtle nod to his family and the childhood best friend he’s always going to protect. But there’s a new plate and a new charm, and Caleb delicately lifts and moves his standard dog tag off of the second plate.

There’s a small, old style compass etched onto the metal. You frown when you see something smaller at the direct north of the compass and you unconsciously move closer, making your bodies brush together slightly while you squint to see what the smaller letters are. 

Your heart stops when you see it.

Your initials, in your own handwriting.

Caleb’s shaky breath washes over your face but his hands are ever steady, lifting the second charm up so you can see it. It’s the same small star charm from the night market, but the gem matches the color of your dress from Meilin’s wedding.

“You were never second place, ____.” His hand reaches up to tilt your chin up, and you see every bit of truth in his eyes mixing something more as he settles his other hand on your waist, pulling you in so that you’re in his embrace. Your hands reach up to fist his shirt, pulling him closer as you let yourself breathe deeply so that you can continue to hear what he says.

“I wanted to support Meilin and Gran but you’re the reason why I keep going. You’re what I see at the end of the day- hell, ____, I see you and I feel you everywhere I am. You’re why I am. You’re my purpose, ____.”

“It was never pretend, Caleb?” It’s a quiet whisper as your eyes dip down, settling on his lips instead of his intense stare. “You were honest this entire time?”

“Yes, my star.”

“So why did you have us pretend then? Why couldn’t you have told me the truth from the start?”

“I was afraid,” he admits quietly. “I’ve been so accustomed to putting Mei and Gran first that when I saw the proof of their permission to let me live my life I was fucking terrified. I’ve never thought of myself and what I’ve wanted before, ____. I’ve always put them at the forefront. And being given that scared me but it also made me realize everything I wanted.”

“And that is?” You know the answer, feeling it bubble in your chest as the hope you thought was extinguished returns as a steady flame. Caleb’s hands tilt your chin up so you can look at him fully, and your breath catches in your throat when you see his expression.

Love. So much love for you and only you.

“You. All of you. Your happiness. Your steadfastness. Everything about you, star. I want you and only you, in this lifetime and the ones after that, ____.”

“Caleb,” it’s a gasp as he finally wraps you in a hug, almost lifting you up into the air as he holds you close to his chest. You bury your head into his neck as the moment swallows the both of you whole, never wanting to let go because it’s real.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” It’s a whisper by your ears, and a tear slips from your eye as he kisses your temple. “I meant none of it and I will do everything in my power to earn your forgiveness if you decide I deserve it. I will work and get on my knees and beg for as long as I need to if it means I get to keep your smile in my life, my star, my ____.”

You pull your head from his neck and you look up at his shining eyes as he waits for your response. All of the hope in the world is displayed on his face, and you can’t help the smile that blooms across your face.

“That’s quite dramatic, Caleb.”

“I mean it,” he replies with all seriousness. “I will do it for the one I love, ____.”

Love. 

Caleb’s eyes widen at his slip but you angle your head up, letting your lips brush against his in a chaste kiss so he can feel your smile against his mouth. “I love you too, Caleb Xia.”

The world stops as he processes your words, realizing that you love him, too. A moment barely passes before he leans down and kisses you, stealing your breath away and making your eyes close.

“I love you, ____, my star.” It’s a heavy groan against your lips as he wraps your legs around his waist, walking to your bed and settling you down onto your mattress. Your hands are quick to grab at his body, pulling him down once more and pressing your lips against his fervently as his hands map the contours of your body - committing everything into memory so he can keep you in his thoughts for all eternity.

“Caleb,” you gasp as his lips move from your mouth to the rest of your face, pressing kisses into every surface of skin he can touch as his hands slowly caress every part of your body. Your fingers are no better, going from the baggy material of his shirt before your arms wind around his neck once more, sliding into his thick hair and tangling into his messy locks.

“God, I love you,” he groans before capturing your lips once again, stealing your breath from your body once more and making your head spin at the giddy pleasure coursing through your veins. Your hands travel from the back of his head to his shoulders, fingers twisting the loose fabric around his shoulders before you tug at the material insistently.

“Off, please- Caleb-” you gasp against his mouth when he bites down on your bottom lip. You feel a small smirk against your lips as he pulls away only slightly, reaching behind to pull his shirt off of his body from the back collar. You can feel yourself flush further at the sight of his abs as he tosses the shirt behind him, and before you can stop yourself your fingers trace a dangerous line along his pecs.

“Shit, star-” he hisses. Caleb’s hands find your waist and his fingers tighten against your side, flopping onto his back and pulling you up so that you straddle his hips. Your core presses against the growing bulge in his pants and you gasp, pulling on the chain around his neck so that you can kiss him once more as your hips begin to move on their own accord.

Caleb’s tongue slips out his mouth, swiping against your bottom lip to ask for permission in. Your mouth falls open in response, and he’s quick to dart in and tangle his tongue against your own as his hands continue to guide the pace of your lips. Your skin feels too hot as your actions continue, little whimpers and moans filling the air and matching his whispered expletives. His hands move from your hips to your waist, making a dangerous path up your abdomen before lightly pressing against your chest.

“Can I-” he tries, but your hands press against the back of his hands, letting his palms massage your breasts as you whimper with want.

“Touch me, Caleb Xia.”

His tongue quickly darts out to wet his lips, his pupils dilating as you continue to grind against his rapidly hardening cock. His hands move down to your side, long and calloused fingers sliding underneath your tank top before pushing the pesky fabric up and over your head. All you’re left in now is your pretty lace bralette and sweatpants, making Caleb's blood rush down south as he flips you back over once again.

“So beautiful,” he groans. His hands make quick work of both of your sweatpants, sliding the baggy fabric down your legs before the two of you are left in only your underwear.

“My star,” Caleb whispers reverently. His body slowly inches down until he’s kneeling at the foot of your bed, gently pulling at your thighs until they rest on his shoulders. His pointer finger slides against the front of your underwear, and you gasp as his fingers press harder against the wetness that soaks the lace.

“You’re so wet, ____.” There’s a teasing edge as he pulls the fabric to the side, groaning when he sees the way your pussy glistens under the light of the moon from your window. “Who made you this wet, hmm?”

“Caleb-” you gasp, half in answer and half pleading as he lets his fingers press just a little bit harder against your sopping slit. The tips of his fingers dip into your hole slightly, making your back arch as you gasp.

“Mmm…”

It’s the only hum you hear before he buries his head between your thighs, a finger pushing into your soaking hole as his mouth wraps around your clit and sucks just the tiniest bit. A wanton moan escapes your body, thighs about to close but he simply holds you open as he begins to feast on you.

“Caleb-” Your voice catches in a whimper as your hands travel down, pulling on his hair in a bid to get him closer. “P-please, more-”

He simply hums against your pussy, slowly retracting his thick fingers before moving his tongue to your weeping entrance. His tongue slides in and you cry out as his nose bumps against your clit over and over again while he eats you like a man deprived. Your head thrashes back and forth, the needy feeling filling your body until you’re hot all over - a single touch enough to hurtle you off to your end.

Even with your wanton pleasure, Caleb’s movements never cease. His tongue moves back up to your clit, and he presses two fingers gently into your cunt. The stretch makes you cry out, your sweaty hands grabbing at your sheets as he gently crooks his thick digits so that he can press against that spot in you.

“My beautiful star.” He pulls away just enough for you to hear it, the warm air hitting your clit and making you jolt in sensitivity. “Who’s making you feel this good, hm?”

“C-caleb-” You sob. You’re lost in the haze of pleasure, the only thing you can manage being whimpers of his name as he drives you closer to your precipice. All the while he continues to move his fingers inside of you in gentle movements, consistently pressing against your g-spot and making you gasp. The knot in your stomach unravels and you gasp. “Caleb, I’m-”

His mouth slots back against your pussy, tongue flicking against your clit in silent permission to surrender to your end.

And you do.

You cum with a silent moan, tears streaking against your face as the pleasure washes over you in overwhelming waves. His hands never stop, though - he’s still crooking his fingers against your g-spot as he kitten licks at your swollen pearl, making you almost scream as you feel pressure build in your lower abdomen.

All of a sudden you gush all over his hand and he moans, moving his tongue so he gets your taste straight from the source. Your hips move up and down as you gasp, little whimpers the only thing you can manage before you flop back onto your bed bonelessly.

Caleb’s careful to pull his fingers from your pulsing walls, and you gasp as you feel yourself tense around nothing. He moves back up so that he’s hovering above you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and rubbing his nose against your own. “You okay, star?”

“Please.” It’s a sleepy plea as you slowly push yourself up on your bed, settling your weight on your elbows as you look at him with a small smile on your face. Caleb looks utterly wrecked: pupils blown wide open and mouth shining with your slick as he breathes heavily, the silver chain against his neck rising up and down with every movement of his chest. Your eyes travel lower, past his pecs and his abs and down the feathery trail of hair leading into his boxers, where his cock strains heavily against the tight fabric.

Your fingers make quick work of your bralette, pulling it over your head and throwing it at him teasingly. He catches it with one hand, even though he’s distracted by the way your breasts sway slightly with your unsteady breaths.

“Fuck,” he groans. He’s quick to drop the flimsy lace onto the floor before making his way back onto your bed, hovering above you slightly as he kisses you once more. You whimper when you taste yourself on his lips, and he’s quick to pull your underwear down your legs as you push his boxers off of his hips impatiently.

“Is this okay, ____?” The tip of his cock slides through your silken folds, and he groans heavily against your mouth as you gasp. His hand grips his length, slapping his cockhead against your clit and making you jolt against his body.

“Please, Caleb-” It cuts off into a long-drawn out moan when his tip lightly catches against your hole, and you wiggle your hips in an attempt to pull him in closer. He’s quick to stop you, though, hand on your hip as he slowly guides himself into your heat.

“Patience, star.” His voice is low and gritty as he pushes himself in slowly, making your eyes roll back at the slow stretch. Your walls flutter around his length, slowly pulling him in until he’s fully sheathed in your soaking cunt - leaving you gasping at how utterly full you feel of him.

“-ngh.” It’s an incoherent noise from your mouth, and Caleb’s quick to check on you as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“You okay, beautiful?” There’s an edge of humor as he shifts slightly, making you gasp as he jostles slightly inside you. His hips still but you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and making a moan escape his lips.

“Please move-” you all but beg. His eyes darken at your wanton neediness but he’s quick to comply, slowly shifting his hips until he settles a shallow rhythm; slowly rocking in and out in and leaving you begging for more.

“My star, my ____,” he murmurs reverently, capturing your lips in a heated and messy kiss as his hips begin to move in longer strokes. Your teeth clack together as his tongue fights yours for dominance, and you finally relent and let him win as your mouth falls open. His cock bullies your g-spot over and over as you whine, fingers raking down his biceps at the onslaught of pleasure he’s leaving all over your body. He pulls away slightly, and you feel your head spin at the string of saliva connecting your lips and the way his dog tags bounce on his sweaty skin at the thrusts of his movements.

“Look at you,” he groans. The obscene plap plap plap of his hips hitting his mark consistently fills the air, pairing with your whimpers and gasps of his name. “So beautiful and all mine-”

“-Caleb!” You’re sobbing at this point, arms wrapping around his neck so that you can pull him down towards you. His necklace dangles in the little space between the two of you, swaying above your face as your nails leave red marks down his back.

“Are you close, my star?” Your eyes cross when he angles his hips juuust right, consistently hitting your g-spot as his pelvis bumps against your clit over and over again. “Are you going to cum for me, ____?”

“Yes-” you gasp, head thrashing back and forth as your tears slide down your cheeks and soak into the pillow below you. “‘M gonna cum, Caleb-”

“Yeah?” His hips speed up even more, and you sob as you feel yourself begin to fall off your edge. “Cum for me, my star-”

“-ah!” It’s a little scream as the knot in your stomach finally snaps, and your final orgasm washes over your entire body as he continues to move inside of you. His rhythm grows stilted as he feels your walls pulse all around him, making him moan as his head falls to your neck.

“I love you Caleb-” you sob, nails digging into his shoulders as his hips stutter at your slurred words. “‘m so in love with you, Caleb Xia-”

“Fuck,” he swears, and his teeth sink into your skin as he cums in your warmth. You whine when you feel him filling you up, leaving you full and content as his hips slowly come to a stop - letting him relish in the feeling of your warm cunt soaking him as your walls pulse around him weakly.

There’s a comfortable quiet as the two of you catch your breath, your fingers tracing random shapes up and down his spine. Caleb slowly lifts his head, and you laugh softly when you see the dazed look in his eyes as he catches your gaze.

“Can’t believe you came when I said I love you.” You mean for it to be teasing, but you gasp when you feel his cock twitch in your sensitive walls. You look up at him in bewilderment, and he has the grace to look a little bit sheepish as his hips shallowly thrust almost absentmindedly.

“You’re incredibly beautiful and hearing you say that you love me in that tone of voice was incredibly hot, star.” This time you do laugh, rolling your eyes even when you feel yourself growing needy for him again.

“I love you, Caleb.”

It’s a sweet whisper, and you both ignore the way your pussy clenches around his cock as he leans down to kiss you.

“I love you too, my star, my ____.” He whispers.

Gideon and Patrick stand outside of your door, ears pressed to the thick wood so they can hear Caleb’s muffled confession. Alongside on Gideon’s phone are Meilin and Xavier, the line silent as they wait impatiently for any sort of update from them.

“Well?!” The pixelation and shit wifi of the DAA base hide little of Meilin’s impatience, making Gideon wince and lower the volume of his phone as Patrick continues to listen in for anything.

“It’s really quiet.” It’s a hushed whisper, and both Gideon and Patrick look at each other in resignation as Meilin sighs sadly.

“It’s over,” she weeps softly. “My ship is sinking…”

“Aren’t we supposed to be your top ship, my love Mei?” Xavier’s teasing cuts through the tension only a little bit as Meilin scoffs.

“Caleb and ____ are my top ship!” 

“Wait,” Gideon says all of a sudden. He presses his ear against the door and hears it:

I love you too, Caleb.

“Co-conspirators of Project Dizzy Apple, we have achieved our goal.”

Meilin squeals happily on the phone as Gideon and Patrick fist bump each other, relieved that the two of you are no longer tiptoeing around each other. Patrick shakes his head with a smile as he presses his ear on the door once more-

-only for his face to blanch as he grabs Gideon’s arm and begins to drag him away.

“We need to move, now.”

“What, why?” Meilin’s voice crackles on the line as Patrick tries to drag Gideon away from the door. “I want to hear more of their love confession! I need the romance!”

Patrick shakes his head vigorously, eyes wide. “They’re not-”

“Please- Caleb-!”

“Shit shit shit,” Gideon swears over and over when he realizes what he's hearing and he clumsily stands up with Patrick as Meilin fake-gags on the phone.

“Ew ew ew ew ew gross!” Gideon would usually reprimand Meilin for how loud she’s being but right now he’s inclined to agree, trying desperately to scrub the sounds of your shared sin from his mind as the two of them tumble into Patrick’s room.

“Why are we worried about it?” Xavier sounds confused. “You say much worse when I make love to you, Mei. You sound deliciously sinful, too.”

“Not the time,” Patrick grumbles, and Gideon winces once more as Meilin shrieks at Xavier.

Ah well, your friends may have gotten the two of you together but it cost them a little bit.

They don’t mind though.

Not when you and Caleb finally make yourselves known with wide smiles and held hands, slotting together naturally like the sunset over the horizon. 

a/n #2: if you made it this far i am giving you a bouquet i'm being so fr thank you for reading i truly appreciate it :')

Like, for example, you dared to talk to another man? You'll wake up with your underwear full of cum placed on display on your bed. You dared to laugh at another's jokes? Now, he has no other choice but to use every single pantie from your underwear drawer. And, of course he'll place them nicely at the edge of your bed, as if it was a warning that you're next.

Or, sometimes, if you dare to flirt, or even respond to someone's flirts, you'd wake up with your underwear so used and torn to the point of being unrecognizable.

Seriously, who should you talk to about this? Who should you call to get rid of this.. specimen that keeps terrorizing you?

Because the more you keep quiet the worse it gets.

Like, now, for example. Where your stalker took the liberty to leave a note on your desk. Handwriting so good it disgusts you to the core. To think that someone with such neatly writing could do such atrocities.

Fuck him.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.

"You looked so good today." you repeated the words on the note, as if it was to summon him. And maybe you were, maybe you were trying to visualize this.. dude, bro, pervert, or whatever the heck he was.

You look good, he said. The fact that you haven't had a good night sleep in days, now, that he didn't say shit about.

You'll catch him. You swear you'll do it, and end this once and for all. And you did. After days of carefully planning, you finally managed to catch that stalker of yours.

And here he was now, on the floor of your apartment, with you on top since you jumped on him and pinned him down the moment he stepped a foot into your place.

How many times did you think about this? Dreamed about it, the moment you catch the fucker with your own hands and give him a taste of your mind. You thought about how satisfying it will be to get your hands on him, yet, there's only a bitter taste on your tongue.

This man, this fucker, the pervert that been using your panties like they're free use. He was so handsome that it's getting on your nerves.

He was big, his arms were big, those tits of his were big. And his eyes, a deep purple, getting lost in them as he looks up at you like he was the one that planned this encounter, not you. With a smirk on his face, trying his hardest to keep his hands to himself.

"You-" your mouth closed by itself the moment his eyes moved on your lips. He was waiting, no, in fact, he wanted whatever you had prepared for him. Yell, shout, punch him if you want. Insult him, talk to him, say whatever it's on your mind. "Hands to your damn self." you slapped his hands away the moment they touched your hips.

This.

Ugh. He can't get enough of it. He's trying his hardest not to moan.

"I can't believe you." you said, still on top, looking down at him. "Do you have any idea the trouble you have caused me?" yes, just like that. Keep talking to him.

He bit his lip, not saying anything as you cursed him out.

"Are you listening to me?" his head fell backwards, letting a small moan out and rolling his pelvis forward making you gasp. "You-" what is wrong with him?! "You-" you were at a loss of words. "You mother fucker!" was it wrong of you to say that your stomach did backflips?

One of your hands went to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful full of his hair and tugging lightly at it, yet still hard enough to make him moan. "Ah." he laughed. "Just like that."

"I'm trying to have a conversation here." you got your hand back to yourself. "Seriously, what the heck is your problem?" he didn't reply. "You break into my house, use my stuff as you please. And here you are now, moaning like a bitch in heat at the smallest thing." get this fool out of here. "Are you really that desperate for attention?"

"You have no idea." fuck, his voice sounds so good. "From the moment I saw you, I knew I had to do something."

"And this is what you came up with? Couldn't you talk like any other normal person?" well, he wouldn't necessarily say that he's your average Joe.

"I caught your attention, right?" in the worst way possible. "Then that's enough for me."

"If it was, you wouldn't be here." right, because something doesn't add up. "Why did you let me catch you so easily?"

"You wanted to see me. So how could I say no to my princess?"

"So, you broke into my house just to get my attention, then, the moment I'm trying to catch you, you come running?" he nodded. "And what if I want to do something to you?" he shrugged at your question. "What if I want to do something bad to you?"

"You want to tie me?" he didn't seem to take your threats seriously. "Or lock me up?"

"That's up to me to decide." how dare he run ahead of himself? "So keep your mouth shut until I figure something out." he listens to you without a single complain.

And, here he was. Still on the floor, with you on top, your ass pressed right against his crotch while he kept himself up on his elbows.

Your eyes were scanning him, from his hair, to his face, then lower and lower.

He had a nice physique, like he was sculpted to perfection for your exact taste. And, for some reasons, the thought of someone else finding him appealing doesn't sit right with you.

You feel unsure because he's good looking. You can't forget why he's here. Why you're in the situation you're in at the moment.

He used to ruin your panties just because you talked to people. He'd even use the pair you have on you right now if you let him, rut his hips like a desperate hoe and jerk himself off at the mere sight of your clothed pussy. Because that's the type of person he is.

A pervert. That's what he is. I'm telling you he's not right in the head. Ignore the puppy eyes, ignore that handsome face. Ignore the look he's giving you, those bedroom eyes will not help him in this situation. It shouldn't!

"Take your pants off." you order, making him smile. Looking at you with something so filthy that you can't help but curse him out. He was quick to lower the hem of his pants just enough so his cock would free out of its confinement.

Ah, fuck.. he has a big dick too. And he's so painfully hard that it should be embarrassing, yet he's not. "It's been like that the whole day." he confessed. "Just from the thought that I'd get to see you." his eyes were glued to your hand that wrapped around his hard shaft. "You have no idea how long I waited for this." and whose fault is it?

Does he not see himself? If he were any normal, and came to you like any other rational individual, you wouldn't have said no. I mean, look at him. Build like a statue, so good looking that now you can't look at anyone else without comparing. Who would say no to him?

"I'm not sure I should.. please you.. after everything you've done." you said, taking your hand to yourself. "But, if you beg for my forgiveness." you looked him up and down. "I might change my mind."

"Ah." he sounded as if he realized something. "You're so right. I should be begging on my knees right now." he got up, extending a hand to help you get off the cold floor. "How could I be so stupid." one of his arms went behind your knees, lifting you up effortlessly. "I'll make it up to you. In fact, I'll show you exactly how sorry I am." he walked towards your bedroom, reminding you that he comes and goes as he pleases, as if this was his place, not yours.

As he stepped into your bedroom, he was quick to place you on the bed, taking your pants off and throw them away alongside your panties in a swift motion.

When he said he'll beg on his knees you didn't expect him to actually get on his knees, in front of you, as you sat at the edge of the bed.

With that look in his eyes, smiling at you so softly as his gaze moved on your wet pussy. Licking his own lips at the thought of testing you and your sweet sweet juices.

His hands parted your legs open as he moved his face closer to your private part, placing your legs over his shoulders, while his arms wrapped around your thighs. His mouth finally made contact with the part he wanted to taste the most.

His tongue was quick to move in between your folds. Burying himself in you as if he's trying to get melted by your heat. And he couldn't even decide what he wanted to focus on the most, your clit, or that dripping hole of yours.

Well, there's more than enough time for everything. So, he started with your clit, giving it a few licks before wrapping his lips around it, suck on it with much more force than he initially intended to.

I mean, can you blame the man? He had such a delicious snack before him, the candy that he couldn't have for so long. The desperation was there, written all over his face and in his actions. In the way his hands tighten around you, griping as if he was afraid you might run away.

But you can't do that, you hear him? He won't let you. You're stuck with him now. Oh, you're so stuck with him.

You were doomed from the start. It didn't matter if you kept quiet and accepted him, or took matters into your own hands. You were misfortuned.

But it doesn't matter if you'll try to get rid of him right after this. He'll always come back, and beg on his knees, with his tongue deep in between your legs. And he'll look up at you just the way he's doing now, with smiling eyes as he shoves his tongue deep into your hot hole. Dragging you closer to him, as his hands always does whenever you shift even a little.

So, don't you dare move. Because what if any of your juices accidentally fall onto your sheets, or escape past his lips? That would be such a waste now, wouldn't it? And he doesn't want that. So stay put until he finishes "cleaning" you up.

Well, that's just an excuse for his own greed. To make you feel better in case you were questioning yourself or why you're doing whatever the heck you were doing with him in that moment.

Ah, right, he's supposed to be apologizing. Yet the moment your fingers went through his hair, palm right against his forehead, and pushed his head away from you, was like something in his switch.

A blank expression on his face, happiness evaporating in an instant. It was as if you offended him with your sudden rejection. Yet, the moment you opened your mouth, he went back to his previous emotion, a big smile on his face as you said those exact words. "It's too much." oh, but how happy he looked in that moment.

"Of course, of course. How careless of me." he got up, leaning over you as one of his knees rested against the mattress, a palm placed firmly on the bed while the other in between your legs. "I should have known better." he's talking as if he wasn't plotting new ways to overstimulate you.

His fingers, much bigger and longer than yours, were right against your pussy. The ring and middle sliding in between your folds, quickly moving them from your hole to your clit and collecting your juices on them. Like he didn't get to see up close just how wet you were.

He was circling your clit with slow round moves, making you jolt more than you'd like to admit. His eyes were glued to your face and the expression you had, how frustrated you look, the way you were biting your own lips. Like you were trying your hardest to not react in a way that might seem rewarding to him.

But just as his fingers were moving lower, towards your dripping hole, your hands went to his pants. Tugging them low enough to free his pulsating cock. "It's not fair." you said, looking up at him for a quick moment before moving your eyes away, on his hard dick. "I want to play with you too." because he was clearly enjoying making you feel overwhelmed. So why shouldn't you make him feel the same?

There was a big grin on his face as you wrapped your hand around his cock, trying his hardest not to move his hips forward. Because what if he accidentally goes ahead of himself and fucks your hand instead of that warm pussy of yours? He's not necessarily complaining, but still, he's saying he should be pleasing you. Not the other way around.

But you seemed so eager, moving your hand back and forth on his fat cock as he could only stare. Your skin is so soft, and it feels so good that he's already salivating and you barely even started.

That's the effect you had on him. Just the mere fact that you exist gets him worked up in ways that would make any other normal individuals concerned.

But he can't just give in like that, not yet at least. He had to give you more than you're giving him, not that he felt obligated or anything. It's just.. this voice in the back of his head. Alongside a bell, ringing every time he's not pleasing you, or when he feels like you're outdoing him.

So, he pushed your legs open with one knee, giving him more access to your pussy, while also giving you access to him as well. His hand going back to it's original place, slowly pushing two fingers inside you, his eyes instantly moving to your face when you whined.

As happy as he was with your reactions, he's not even halfway in yet. You had to hang in there if you wanted to take him with ease, or else it would be bad for you.

But still, the thought of you, crying and whining as you were struggling to take him in doesn't sound that bad. And it was showing, because his cock was twitching in your palm. Precum leaking and leaving a mess on your hand as you kept doing the same back and forth action. Trying to match his own hand that was in between your legs. Moving at a normal and comfortable pace.

His fingers going deeper and deeper, dragging them in and out of you while making sure to curl just slightly once in a while. Never failing to make you jolt, break your own rhythm for a moment before you took revenge on him.

Your hand moving at a slightly faster pace than his whenever he teased you, just to slow down when he moved his hips involuntarily. Making his cock twitch while he let out a low groan.

It was all fun and games, that, well, until it wasn't anymore. All the giggles went out the window, replaced with this strange, suffocating vibe. The lust finally caught up with both of you as you were desperate with your movements.

His palm pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing it every time his fingers went inside you, curling them in a spot that got you seeing stars. While your hand too was moving around his hard cock, grip much tighter than before while matching the same angry pace he was fucking you with.

Just a little more, a little longer if you can. You're so close that you can practically feel it. And it hurts in such a way that you can't help but want more.

"Look- hah." he huffed. "Look at me." don't close your eyes, he needs you to understand that he was the one who made you feel that way. So keep looking at him. Keep doing so until you get tired of him for good.

His face got closer, so close that your lips can touch at any moment now. Yet it didn't, you just started back at one another while your hands kept doing the same desperate action.

Still, your eyes couldn't help but move on his lips. Wondering just for a moment how it would feel, to just do it in the heat of the moment. A kiss, or two. Maybe even more.

You gulped, eyes moving back to his face just to see him getting even closer. Closing whatever space was between the two of you as his lips touched yours. The kiss was a hot mess, just like the atmosphere in that room.

Shaking, your walls tightened around his fingers, making him close his eyes, trying his best to hold back and not push his dick inside you right there and then. But it's not like he was any better than you, because his cock kept jumping happily in your hand, the tip so sensitive that he couldn't help but hiss every time you touched it.

You can't keep going like this anymore, you want to cum. And you did, both at the same time as if your nerves were connected. Moaning into each other's mouths as you reached that high.

You were breathing heavily, trying your best to catch your breath after that orgasm you just had. Your eyes traveling to his cock that was still hard, then to the cum stain he left on your shirt. Then, finally, to his face.

He had a somehow blank expression, or at least he tried to. Because you could see the way he was looking at you, hungry, lusting over you in such a way that it made you close your thighs.

Ah, but what a cute reaction. He can't get enough of it.

His hands were quick to take your shirt off, then push you onto the bed. Crawling over you just as soon as your back touched the mattress. "Take it off." you said tugging at his shirt. Does he really have to? He's losing whatever patience he has left in him. "Come on." you whined.

Whatever, he'll just do it since you seem to want it that much. So, with really quick movements, he took his clothes off. Wasting no time and jumping back on you.

Your legs were placed on both of his sides, resting right on top of his thighs as he slowly pushed his cock inside your warm pussy. Not stopping until he got you full of him.

You feel so good, better than he had imagined. And he doesn't think he can live without having you from now on.

Then.. what about you? Won't you run away after this? You're not stupid enough to leave him, right? Fuck, then, what should he do to make you stay? I mean, shit, he'll clearly follow you even if you don't want him, but he wants you to want him.

You like his cock, right? You like the way he's stretching you open, how he can hit your deepest spot so effortlessly. Because, if you didn't, you wouldn't have been this wet.

He can fuck you good, he promises he can. So, if you let him stay on your own accord, he can make you feel good everyday. He'll stretch you like this on a daily basis, to the point where your insides memorizes his shape.

Ahh, fuck. He has to think of something else, because if he keeps it like this any longer he might cum without even doing anything.

So, he readjust himself, hands placed firmly against the bed while his hips moved forward, looking for a better angle to fuck his cock into you.

He seriously can't get enough of you, you feel so good. Your inside is slippery, letting him move just the way he wants. And hot, oh it's hot. To the point where he feels like he's melting. Your walls hugging him so good that he's salivating.

His hips moved at a somewhat slow pace, not that slow, but it was slower than both of you want. He brain couldn't process that yet. He was still fixated on the way you feel, his eyes glued to the spot in between your legs, where you were connected. The way his cock looks whenever he moves in and out of your pussy.

He was so big yet you managed to take him in without much struggle. If this isn't love then he doesn't know what else is it.

You can feel every inch of him, can't you? The way his tip touched every part of you whenever he slides inside, and how it drags alongside your walls when he slips out.

It was frustrating, somehow. Because it felt so good, and you're not even doing anything. You're just laying there, head thrown back and nails pressed hard against his bicep, leaving marks on his skin, and only pressing harder whenever he touches your cervix with a little bit more force than usual. Making his moan at the pain you're giving him.

He wants more, mark him more. He wants your touch and signature all over his body. And as much as he wants to ask you to do it, he also wants you to do that on your own.

He just has to overwhelm you, right? Because you seem to be doing exactly as he wants whenever it's too much, or he's doing something you're not quite yet familiar with.

So, he slowly picked up the pace, hips snapping into yours. Sounds of wet skin against skin quickly filling the room, alongside heavy breathing.

Your nails left red marks on his skin, dragging them on his arms and back, constantly moving your hands to get a better drip on him. And he seriously couldn't get enough of it.

It stings, just slightly. But it feels so good. That's why he keeps bullying his cock inside you, fat tip abusing your cervix constantly with deep hard thrusts, pressing against it in such a way that you could feel him in your throat.

Your whines did nothing more but put more fuel on the fire.

Now you really had his full attention, and you should take it as a threat.

He moved with so much determination, his thrusts at an irregular pace so you won't get used to it. Leaving some of his weight onto you as he got closer, to give you more access to him.

His pelvis pressed right against your clit, giving you some friction with each thrust he makes. Making you clench around him so deliciously that he had to do even more.

You whined, you moaned. And at this point you're just spitting out nonsense. "Right there." you'd say whenever he touched a good place. "Mhmm, there." you kept nodding, giving him reassurance even tho he could feel exactly just how much you loved the way he's fucking into you.

You're so wet, a complete dripping mess. Your juices falling onto the bed and leaving stains, and somehow he wishes he had a second mouth so he could eat them up. I mean, it's a shame to leave them waste like that.

He's so going to eat you out after he makes you come, and this time he won't stop regardless of what you say.

But for now, he should focus on what he already has.

His eyes traveled on your body, to your chest then to your expression. His face getting so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your skin. And it made your mind wander back to that kiss from earlier.

A kiss would sure be sweet right now, wouldn't it?

Should you do it? But you don't want to make him think that he's forgiven. Not that you care much about what he did anymore.. at least you don't care right now, when he's balls deep inside you.

You really want a kiss tho. You want his lips against yours just like before, especially when he makes you come.

You were looking up at him with big eyes, somehow begging him to read your mind and give you what you want.

And trust him, he noticed right away the look you're giving him. He just thought that you want more, that he's not doing enough, that's why he's fucking harder into you now.

What did you even expect from him. Right, how could you forget that if you want something you'd have to take matters into your own hands.

Cupping his face in between your palms, you smacked your lips against his. Kissing him just the way you wanted, and he adjusted to your right away.

Kiss him as much as you want, eat him even. He's all yours after all. So do as you please with him.

And, as if you can read his mind, you suddenly parted your lips away from his just to move your face to his neck and bite him. Making him groan in response.

Fuck, right there. Bite him harder. Don't stop, bite him again.

Your teeth stayed against his skin, leaving red marks on him and making him want to give you even more of him. As if he didn't already put himself on a plate for you.

He'll make you feel so good, just you wait. He'll make you come harder than you ever did.

Ambitious, and full of himself. He started to grind just right against you. Angling his cock to hit the places you like most, while a hand was quick to move in between your legs, massaging your clit.

There, doesn't it feel good? Don't you love the attention he's giving you? So keep doing whatever you want with him, because he's yours to use.

It didn't take long for that build up to appear again. That same familiar feeling in your stomach, begging for more.

All he has to do is keep going, just a little more. You're almost there.

You're looking at him like that again. Practically begging him to fuck you more. That means you're close, huh? You're even kissing him now, arms wrapped around his neck and dragging him closer to you. Closing your eyes while clenching hard around him, shaking as you reach your high. Followed by him right away.

There's no way he'll let you go through that alone. Plus, the way your walls keep tightening around him was too much. So, with a few more thrusts, he came deep inside you. Filling you up with his cum, so much that it leaked out.

Breathing heavily, you stared at each other. "Again." you said. "I want to do it again." you don't have to tell him twice, because the next moment he was all over you once again. Hips moving forward like they had a mind on their own.

Your lips on his, kissing like you're trying to eat each other. Your hands on him, holding with such a tight grip, as if you were the one trying to keep him in place, afraid that he might run away, and not the other way around.

There's a desperation that wasn't there before. A hunger that couldn't be calmed down even after a few rounds. And you doubt it will calm down any time soon.

You need more. So much more. And he was willing to fill you up until you couldn't take anymore. Or, even the other way around. Feed yourself on him even after he can't take it anymore.

You stretch, feeling the pleasant ache in muscles that haven’t quite forgiven you for the condom extravaganza three days ago. Your pussy gives a sympathetic throb at the memory, Caleb pounding into you with that ultra-thin condom stretched tight over his cock, your legs locked behind your head, his cum contained in that sad little latex balloon you had to keep in your mouth.

The guy came three times and still had the audacity to ask if you could handle more. You’re going to need to start doing pelvic floor exercises just to keep up.

You pad barefoot into the kitchen, and there he is.

Shirtless, because the kitchen is approximately the temperature of the sun’s core and Caleb runs hot anyway. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, that delicious V-cut leading your eyes down to where the fabric tents slightly. He hasn’t noticed you yet, too focused on flipping a pancake.

“You know most people let other people cook for them on their birthday,” you say, leaning against the doorframe.

Caleb doesn’t jump. He never jumps. He just turns, spatula in hand, and his face does that thing where his eyes crinkle at the corners and his mouth pulls into a smile that’s half amusement.

“Most people aren’t dating someone who puts hot sauce in scrambled eggs,” he says. “Happy birthday to me.”

You cross the kitchen and wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. His skin is warm and smells like vanilla soap and apples. “Happy birthday, ge ge.”

He hums, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your cheek. One of his hands covers yours where they rest on his stomach, his thumb rubbing small circles against your knuckles. “You’re up early.”

“Your pancakes are loud. They woke me up with their screaming.”

“My pancakes are perfectly behaved,” he says, and flips another one with a flourish that sends a drop of batter sailing onto the stovetop. “Unlike certain people.”

You bite the curve of his shoulder, not hard, just enough to make him hiss. “I’m a delight and you know it.”

“You’re a nuisance,” he corrects, but he’s smiling, you can hear it in his voice. He plates the pancakes, a stack of three, golden brown and suspiciously perfect, and slides scrambled eggs beside them. The eggs are fluffy and yellow and dotted with what looks like chives. Show-off.

“Sit,” you command, pulling out a chair.

“I was going to—”

“Sit. It’s your birthday. I’m feeding you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“For realsies.” You push him into the chair and straddle his lap before he can protest, because that’s how you eat breakfast now, apparently.

Caleb’s hands settle on your hips like they belong there, which they do, and his cock stirs against your ass in a way that’s becoming as familiar as his smile.

You cut a piece of pancake, spearing it with your fork, and hold it up to his mouth. “Open.”

“Pips, I can feed myself—”

“Open or I’ll shove it up your nose.”

He opens. You slide the fork between his lips, and his eyes flutter closed as he chews. Something about watching Caleb eat is unfairly hot. The way his jaw works, the slight parting of his lips, the tiny appreciative noise he makes in the back of his throat. You’re staring, and you know it, and you don’t care.

“Your turn,” he says, and cuts a piece of egg. He holds it up, and you lean forward to take it from the fork, deliberately letting your lips brush his fingers.

“Mmm,” you say around the mouthful. “Good eggs.”

“Good chef.”

“Arrogant chef.”

He grins, that infuriating, beautiful grin, and feeds you another bite. This time his thumb traces your lower lip as the fork pulls away, and your tongue darts out to catch the tip of it. His eyes darken.

“Behave,” he murmurs.

“Make me.”

His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, pressing you more firmly against his lap. You can feel him hardening beneath you, the ridge of his cock pressing against your ass through two layers of fabric. You rock forward, just slightly, and he inhales sharply.

“Pips.”

“Caleb.”

“If you keep doing that, breakfast is going to get cold.”

You consider this. “Worth it.”

He laughs, the sound warm and rich and so fucking Caleb it makes your chest hurt. His forehead drops to rest against yours, and for a moment you just breathe together, sharing the same air, his pancakes and your eggs forgotten on the table beside you.

“I have presents for you,” you say, pulling back slightly.

Caleb’s expression shifts, that little furrow appearing between his brows. “Pips, you didn’t have to—”

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” You press a finger to his lips. “Stay. Right here. Eyes closed. Don’t peek.”

“Pips—”

“Eyes. Closed.”

He sighs, but his mouth is twitching. “Yes, ma’am.”

You slide off his lap, and his hands linger on your waist like he’s reluctant to let you go. You plant a quick kiss on his forehead and then you’re skipping down the hallway to your room, your heart doing something stupid and fluttery in your chest.

Behind you, you hear Caleb’s voice, soft and fond. “She’s going to be the death of me.”

You come back with the letter clutched in one hand and the box balanced carefully in the other. The box is nothing fancy. Just a cardboard thing you covered in wrapping paper that has tiny airplanes on it, because you are nothing if not committed to the bit. You spent approximately three hours folding paper stars and cranes until your fingers ached, sprinkling them into the box like confetti made of hope and mild carpal tunnel.

Caleb is still sitting exactly where you left him, eyes closed, hands resting on the table. His face is calm, but there’s a slight upward curve to his mouth that says he’s been smiling the whole time you were gone.

“Okay,” you say. “Open your eyes, but keep your hands where I can see them.”

His eyes open. They find you immediately, warm and amused, and then drop to the letter you’re holding out.

“For me?” he asks, like an idiot.

“No, it’s for the other hot guy with purple eyes who cooks me pancakes. Yes, for you, dumbass.”

He takes the letter. His fingers brush yours, and even that tiny contact sends a spark up your arm. You set the box on the table in front of him and perch on the edge of your chair, knees bouncing, watching his face.

The letter is… well. It’s a letter.

You wrote it at 2 AM after three glasses of wine, which explains the passages about his ass (“like two planets colliding in slow motion”) and the paragraph where you compared his dick to the Space Needle (“tall, impressive, and I want to climb it”).

But there are other parts too.

The parts about how he made you feel safe when you were eight and had chicken pox. Or even when you were sixteen and crying over a boy who didn’t deserve your tears. The parts about his hands, always steady, always there. The parts about how you fell in love with him slowly, then all at once, like a plane taking off, hesitant at first, then suddenly, gloriously airborne.

Caleb reads it all. You watch his face move through the emotions like weather. There was a snort of laughter at the Space Needle bit, his cheeks flushing slightly at the ass planets. Then his expression softens, his thumb tracing the edge of the paper where you’d signed it with a heart and your initials. His eyes flick up to yours, and the look in them is so raw, so unbearably tender, that you have to glance away.

“Pips,” he says, and his voice is rough.

“Don’t you dare make me cry,” you warn. “I don’t want puffy eyes today.”

He sets the letter down carefully, like it’s made of something fragile, and then his arms are around you and he’s pulling you into his lap and kissing you like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your mouth. His hands frame your face, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones, and when he finally breaks the kiss he doesn’t go far. He just rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your lips.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“You haven’t even seen the box yet.”

“I don’t need to. The letter is—”

“Open the fucking box, Caleb.”

He laughs, that rich, warm sound that does things to your insides, and reaches for the box. The lid comes off, and the paper stars spill out a little, drifting across the table like tiny origami meteors. Caleb’s expression shifts. Surprise, then something softer, his fingers sifting through the trinkets you’ve collected.

There’s a keychain from that terrible roadside attraction you stopped at last summer, the one with the world’s largest ball of twine. A dried flower pressed between two pieces of clear tape—a daisy he gave you once, for no reason, just because. A small wooden airplane, hand-carved and slightly lopsided, that you found at a flea market and knew he would love.

And then his fingers hit fabric.

He pulls out the boxers slowly.

They’re black, cotton, completely ordinary except for the fact that your face is printed directly on the crotch. Not a tasteful, artsy photo, no. You went full unhinged. It’s a close-up of your face, mouth open mid-laugh, eyes crinkled, slightly out of focus because Gideon took the photo while you were trying to swat the phone out of his hand.

Caleb holds the boxers up. Stares at them. His mouth opens, closes, opens again.

Then he fucking loses it. He throws his head back and laughs, loud and genuine, the sound filling the kitchen and bouncing off the walls. His shoulders shake, his free hand braced on the table, and you’re laughing too, helplessly, because his reaction is everything you hoped for and somehow better.

“You’re crazy,” he says, wiping his eyes. “Completely, certifiably insane.”

“Do you like it?”

“I do. God help me, I do.” He turns the boxers around, examining your face on the crotch. “I’m never taking these off.”

“Please wash them occasionally.”

“No promises.”

Beneath the boxers are the vouchers. You made them on cardstock, little tickets decorated with airplane stickers. One for a kiss (“Redeemable anytime, anywhere, no questions asked”). One for a hug (“Minimum thirty seconds, Caleb, I know you’ll try to cheat”). One for a back rub, one for breakfast in bed, one that just says “SEX?” in glitter pen.

Caleb flips through them, his smile growing with each one. “These are very… specific.”

“I know what I’m about.”

Next, the bottles. Three glass ones, corked, filled with tiny scrolls. You labeled them simply: OPEN WHEN YOU MISS ME. OPEN WHEN YOU’RE STRESSED. OPEN WHEN YOU NEED TO LAUGH.

“For the fleet,” you explain, suddenly shy. “When I can’t answer your calls. So you know I’m thinking about you, even when I’m not there.”

Caleb picks up one of the bottles, holding it to the light. The scrolls inside are colored, blue, green, orange. Each one containing something you wrote. A joke. A memory. A promise. His thumb traces the glass, and when he looks up at you, his eyes are suspiciously bright.

“Pips,” he says, and there’s that roughness in his voice again.

“Don’t start,” you warn. “There’s more.”

At the bottom of the box, beneath a layer of paper cranes, are the tickets. Two of them, printed on heavy cardstock, embossed with the logo of the Pacific Northwest Aviation Museum.

T-93 EXPERIENCE: FLY THE LAST AIRWORTHY T-93 JET. 60 MINUTES. PILOT AND CO-PILOT.

Caleb goes very, very still.

The T-93.

The jet he’s been talking about since he was twelve years old, building model versions of it that hung from his bedroom ceiling. The jet that started his obsession with flying, that led him to the DAA, that made him the man he is.

The last flyable T-93 in existence, and you got tickets for two.

“I called in every favor,” you say quietly. “Gideon knows a guy who knows a guy who volunteers at the museum. It took three months and I had to promise Gideon I’d find him a girlfriend, but…” You shrug, trying for casual and missing by a mile. “Happy birthday.”

Caleb picks up one of the tickets. His fingers are trembling, just slightly. He reads it once, twice, like he’s making sure it’s real.

“The other ticket is for Gideon,” you explain. “I thought you two could—”

“No.” The word comes out sharp, decisive. Caleb sets the ticket down and looks at you, his expression fierce. “You’re coming with me.”

“But I thought—”

“I don’t care what you thought.” His hand finds yours across the table, squeezing. “Gideon can come. He can stand on the ground and hold our bags and take pictures. But the person in that co-pilot seat is going to be you.”

Something warm and liquid fills your chest, spreading outward until your fingertips tingle with it. “Caleb…”

“You gave me this,” he says, his voice low and intense. “You. So you’re going to be there when I fly it. That’s not negotiable.”

You look at him, really look at him, and the force of what you feel hits you like a physical thing, a pressure behind your ribs that makes it hard to breathe.

“Okay,” you say softly. “I’ll be your co-pilot.”

His smile could power a small city. “Good. Because we leave in three hours, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The Pacific Northwest Aviation Museum is, frankly, a fucking dump.

It’s a Quonset hut with delusions of grandeur, perched on the edge of an airfield that’s seen better decades. The T-93 sits on the tarmac like a relic from another time.

Sleek, silver, its fuselage scarred with the patina of age but its lines still sharp enough to cut glass. You stand beside it with your neck craned back, trying not to look as intimidated as you feel, while Gideon takes your overnight bag with the enthusiasm of someone being handed a dead fish.

“I cannot believe,” he says, very slowly, like he’s speaking to a child, “that I am standing here holding your underwear while you two go joyriding in a museum piece.”

“It’s not joyriding if we have tickets,” you point out.

“It’s joyriding if Colonel Smiles-a-Lot over there looks like he’s about to have a religious experience.” Gideon nods toward Caleb, who is currently having what can only be described as a moment with the T-93. He’s running his hand along the wing with the reverence of a man touching his firstborn, his eyes bright, his mouth curved in a smile so genuine it makes your chest ache.

“Let him have this,” you say quietly.

Gideon sighs. “I am. That’s why I’m standing here with your bag instead of making snide comments about the structural integrity of a jet that was built when my grandfather was in diapers.” He shoves the bag at you. “There’s a change of clothes in there. And condoms. Because I know you two, and I am not cleaning cum out of a historic aircraft.”

You take the bag. “You’re a good friend, Gideon.”

“I’m a saint. Now go before Colonel Dreamy over there spontaneously combusts.”

The cockpit of the T-93 is smaller than you expected. Two seats, side by side, a console of dials and switches that look like they belong in a steampunk novel.

Caleb helps you into the co-pilot seat, his hand steady on your elbow, his voice low and patient as he explains which things you are absolutely NOT allowed to touch, and then he’s in the pilot’s seat, running through pre-flight checks.

“Ready?” he asks, and his eyes are alive with something you’ve never seen before. Pure, unfiltered joy of a pilot.

“As I’ll ever be.”

The engines roar to life beneath you. The vibration travels up through the seat, into your spine, into your teeth. Caleb taxis onto the runway with the easy confidence of someone born to do this, and then he’s pushing the throttle forward and the world drops away.

The g-force hits you like a wall. Your body is suddenly twice its weight, pressed into the seat as the T-93 climbs at an angle that feels physically impossible. Your stomach lurches, your vision narrows, and your hand flies out to grip Caleb’s thigh hard enough to leave marks.

He laughs. The bastard actually laughs, the sound bright and exhilarated above the scream of the engines.

“First time?” he shouts.

“Fuck you!” you shout back, but you’re grinning, because the fear is already transforming into something else. A wild, giddy euphoria as the ground falls away and the sky opens up around you. The T-93 banks sharply, and the horizon tilts, the world becoming a blue-and-green smear outside the canopy.

Caleb takes you through a loop. A real, honest-to-god loop, the kind where the sky becomes the ground and the ground becomes the sky and for one glorious, disorienting second you are weightless, suspended between earth and heaven with nothing but Caleb’s steady hands on the controls.

You scream. It’s not a scared scream. It’s the kind of scream that comes from somewhere deep in your chest, raw and unfiltered, the sound of pure joy being forcibly expelled from your lungs. Caleb’s laugh mixes with it, and for a moment you’re just two people making noise in a metal tube hurtling through the air, and it’s perfect.

Then Caleb’s expression changes.

You see it happen. The shift from playful to intense, his eyes narrowing, his jaw setting. He’s looking past you, out the canopy, and you follow his gaze to see two other jets cutting across the sky maybe half a mile away. Military trainers, by the look of them, their pilots running drills in formation.

Something possessive flashes across Caleb’s face. Something that says mine.

“Hold on,” he says, and it’s not the playful warning from before. It’s Colonel Xia Yi Zhou, and he means business.

The T-93 surges forward. The acceleration pins you to your seat, the g-force returning with a vengeance as Caleb pushes the jet to its limits. He climbs, steep, aggressive, the nose pointing toward the sun, and the other jets shrink beneath you, becoming specks against the blue.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, your hand white-knuckled on the armrest.

“Flying,” Caleb says, and there’s a smile in his voice that’s all sharp edges. “They want to show off? I’ll show them what a real pilot looks like.”

He takes you higher. The air thins, the sky darkens from blue to indigo, and then you’re punching through a layer of clouds. White, cotton-thick, the T-93 slicing through them like a knife through foam. For a moment you’re blind, surrounded by whiteness, and then you burst out above the cloud layer and the world opens up.

The sunset.

Holy shit, the sunset.

It’s not like any sunset you’ve ever seen from the ground.

Up here, the clouds are a sea of burning gold, stretching to the horizon in rolling waves of orange and pink and deep, bloody red. The sun hangs low and enormous, a disc of fire painting everything in its light.

The T-93 seems to hover at the edge of it all, suspended between earth and heaven, and the silence is absolute. Jjust the faint hum of the engines and the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Caleb,” you whisper, because speaking at full volume feels wrong, like you’ll break the spell.

He’s already looking at you. Not at the sunset, not at the controls. At you, his eyes reflecting the gold of the sky, his expression so tender it makes your throat tight.

“Beautiful,” he says, and you’re not sure if he means the sunset or you. (cliche i know)

Probably both. The man has always been an overachiever.

His hands move across the console, flipping switches, adjusting dials. The hum of the engines settles into a steady, constant drone. Autopilot engaged.

Then he unfastens his harness and gestures to his lap. “Come here.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You unbuckle, careful in the confined space, and slide from your seat into his. His thighs are solid beneath you, his arms coming around your waist to hold you secure. The position is awkward. The cockpit wasn’t designed for this, but Caleb makes it work, adjusting until you’re settled against his chest, your back to the sunset, his face lit gold by the dying light.

“Hi,” you say softly.

“Hi,” he answers, and then he’s kissing you, slow and deep, his hand cradling the back of your head like you’re something precious.

The sunset washes over you both, painting your skin in fire, and Caleb’s mouth is warm and sure against yours, tasting like the coffee he drank before the flight.

You break the kiss, just enough to rest your forehead against his.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“For what?”

“For this. For you. For knowing exactly what I needed.”

You smile, tracing the line of his jaw with your thumb. “Happy birthday, ge ge.”

His arms tighten around you, and you sit there in the cockpit of a sixty-year-old jet, above the clouds, watching the sun set on Caleb’s birthday, and you think, “I could stay here forever.”

Forever turns out to be approximately ninety seconds.

Caleb’s hand, which has been resting comfortably on the small of your back, decides to go exploring. It slides down, fingers tracing the curve of your spine, dipping beneath the waistband of your pants.

“What are you—”

“Admitting something,” Caleb says, his voice a low rumble against your chest. His hand continues its journey, palming the swell of your ass through your jeans. “I may have been showing off a little with those loops.”

“You think?”

“The g-force thing.” His thumb hooks into your belt loop, tugging gently. “You grab onto me when you’re scared. I like it when you grab onto me.”

You stare at him. The sunset is painting his face in shades of gold and amber, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the slight quirk of his mouth that means he’s not even remotely sorry.

“You did aerial acrobatics,” you say slowly, “at several hundred miles per hour, in a sixty-year-old jet, because you wanted me to cling to your thigh?”

“Yes.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’ve been told.” His hand slides around to the front, fingers finding the button of your jeans. “Can I?”

You’re about to say something scathing about his priorities and the structural integrity of vintage aircraft, but then his fingertips brush against your clit through the fabric of your panties and whatever clever retort you had prepared dissolves into a stuttered exhale that is absolutely not a moan.

It’s a moan. It’s definitely a moan, and Caleb swallows it with his mouth, kissing you deeply as his fingers circle your clit through the cotton. The pressure is light, teasing, just enough to make your hips jerk forward involuntarily.

“Fuck,” you gasp against his lips.

“That’s the idea.” His free hand finds the lever on the side of the pilot’s seat, adjusting it to recline slightly.

Then he’s lifting you, effortlessly, because the man is built like he bench-presses small cars for fun, and setting you in the chair he just vacated. The leather is warm from his body, and you have approximately half a second to appreciate this fact before Caleb is on his knees between your spread legs, yanking your jeans down your thighs.

The cockpit is not designed for this. Your knees bump against the console, your ass is half off the seat, and Caleb has to duck to avoid hitting his head on the canopy, but none of that seems to deter him. He gets your jeans to your knees and then stops, his eyes dropping to your panties.

And he fucking loses it.

The laughter starts as a snort, then builds into a full-bodied roar that echoes in the confined space of the cockpit. Caleb’s head drops forward, his shoulders shaking, and for a moment you think he might be having some kind of seizure.

“What?” you demand. “What is so funny about my—”

Then you remember. The panties.

They’re plain black cotton, completely ordinary except for the fact that Caleb’s face is printed directly on the crotch. Not a tasteful photo, either. You went with the same unhinged energy as the boxers. It’s a close-up of his face, mid-laugh, his eyes crinkled, his mouth open.

Caleb is still laughing, wiping tears from his eyes. “You—you actually—”

“You have my face on your boxers!” you protest. “I’m matching!”

“I know, that’s what’s—” He dissolves into giggles again, the sound so unexpectedly boyish and delighted that you can’t help but join in. He reaches for the waistband of his pants, tugging it down just enough to reveal the boxers beneath, your face staring up at you from his crotch, slightly distorted by the bulge of his cock.

You look down at your panties. His face.

He looks down at his boxers. Your face.

You both burst into laughter at the same time, the sound bouncing off the canopy of the T-93 as the sunset burns gold around you.

Caleb’s forehead drops to rest on your thigh, his shoulders shaking, and you’re clutching the armrests of the pilot’s seat, wheezing with the kind of laughter that hurts your ribs and makes your eyes water.

It takes a full minute for the giggles to subside. They taper off gradually, leaving behind a warm, comfortable silence filled only by the distant hum of the autopilot and the sound of your breathing.

Caleb looks up at you. His eyes are bright, his smile soft at the edges. One of his hands rests on your bare thigh, his thumb tracing idle circles on your skin.

“I want this,” you say quietly. The words come out before you can stop them, unbidden and completely sincere. “Not just—this. The laughing. I want a house full of it. I want to wake up to you making stupid jokes and go to bed with your arms around me and have every day in between be…” You gesture vaguely, unable to find the right word.

“A fucking disaster?” Caleb suggests, but his voice is warm.

“A beautiful disaster,” you correct. “Our disaster. With laughter. And joy. And matching underwear, apparently.”

His hand slides up your thigh, his fingers tracing the waistband of the panties. His face pressed against your cunt, your face pressed against his cock.

“I want that too,” he says simply. “More than anything.”

You reach for him, cupping his face in your hands, and he leans into the touch like a flower turning toward the sun. His stubble is rough against your palms, his skin warm, and you can feel the steady thrum of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

For a moment, you just look at each other. The sunset is fading now, the gold bleeding into purple at the edges of the sky, and Caleb’s eyes are dark and endless in the dimming light.

Then his expression changes. Something shifts behind his eyes and his hand tightens on your thigh.

“Pips,” he says, and his voice has a new edge to it, low and intent. “Do you have any condoms on you?”

The question hangs in the air between you. Caleb’s eyes are dark, fixed on yours. He has the same look he gets before he does something reckless, something glorious, something that will change everything.

You reach into the inner pocket of your shirt jacket. Your fingers close around foil packets, three of them, because Gideon packed your bag and Gideon knows you two better than you know yourselves. You pull them out, holding them up like evidence.

Caleb takes them. His fingers brush yours, and the contact sends a jolt up your arm. He examines the condoms for a moment. And then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he tosses them out the partially open side window of the cockpit.

They disappear into the cloud layer below, three tiny foil meteors burning up on reentry into your former sex life.

You are on your feet before your brain has fully processed what just happened. The cockpit is small, so “on your feet” means mostly upright with your head ducked under the canopy, but the intent is clear. You are standing, and you are shocked, and your mouth is open in a perfect O of disbelief.

“Did you just—” you start.

Caleb doesn’t let you finish. His hand finds your waist and spins you, pushing you forward until your palms hit the console. The controls dig into your hands. Buttons, levers, switches that probably do important aviation things you absolutely should not be pressing with your tits. His hand is between your shoulder blades, pressing you down, and then you feel it.

His gravity evol. Holding you in place.

“Caleb,” you gasp, because you can move, but barely. Every limb feels like it’s filled with lead, your body pinned to the console by a force you can’t fight. “What are you—”

His answer is the sound of your panties being dragged down your thighs. The cotton catches on his face. His own face, printed on the fabric currently being shoved past your knees and he laughs, low and warm against the back of your thigh.

“These are coming home with me,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is on you.

His tongue drags along your slit from behind, slow and deliberate, and the moan that tears from your throat is embarrassingly loud in the confined space. Caleb works you open with his mouth like he’s memorizing the taste of you, his tongue flat against your cunt before focusing on your clit, circling it with a precision that makes your knees buckle.

Not that they can buckle. The gravity hold has your legs locked, spread, your ass lifted and presented for him like an offering. All you can do is take it, your forehead pressed to the cool plastic of the console, your fingers scrambling for purchase on whatever switches they can reach.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Caleb, your mouth—”

“Shh,” he murmurs against your pussy, the vibration of his voice traveling through your clit and straight up your spine. “Let me taste you. So fucking sweet.” His tongue pushes inside you, curling, and your inner walls clench around nothing, desperate for more. “That’s it. Get wet for me. Soak my tongue.”

He’s talking to your pussy now, his lips pressed against your folds, his words muffled but unmistakable. “You gonna take my cock, pretty girl? You gonna let me fill you up?” His tongue flicks your clit, and you jerk against the gravity hold, a broken sound escaping you. “That’s what I thought. Dripping for me already.”

You are. God, you are.

You can feel it, slick and hot between your thighs, Caleb’s mouth working you into a state of desperate, aching need. His fingers join his tongue, two of them pushing into your cunt while his thumb circles your clit, and the stretch is perfect, exactly what you need but nowhere near enough.

“Ready?” he asks, pulling back. His chin is glistening with your wetness, his eyes black with want.

You nod frantically, beyond words.

The gravity hold releases suddenly, your body lightening so fast you almost pitch forward into the console. Caleb’s hands are on your hips, steadying you, and then you feel the hot, blunt pressure of his cockhead against your entrance.

He teases you. Just the tip, rubbing through your slick folds, catching on your clit with each pass. Your hips rock back, seeking more, and Caleb makes a sound that’s half laugh, half groan.

“Impatient,” he chides. “You want it? Take it.”

And then he shoves forward, one thrust, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, devastating movement.

Your cunt stretches around him, your inner walls gripping his cock with a tightness that borders on painful, and Caleb makes a noise that doesn’t sound human. A ragged, broken groan that vibrates through both of you. His hips jerk involuntarily, and you feel the pulse of his cock inside you, the warm flood as he cums almost immediately, his release filling you in thick, urgent pulses.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades. “Fuck, Pips, I’m—I couldn’t—”

You’re about to tease him. You’re about to turn your head and say something devastating about his stamina, but the words die in your throat because Caleb isn’t stopping. His cock is still hard inside you, still pulsing with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and he’s already moving, pulling back and thrusting forward again with a rhythm that’s steadier than it has any right to be.

“One load,” he mumbles against your back, his voice wrecked. “One load isn’t enough. Not for what I want.” His hand slides around to your stomach, pressing flat against your lower abdomen. “You feel that? Feel how deep I am? That’s where I want to put a baby. My baby. Our baby.”

Your cunt clenches around him at the words, and Caleb groans, his pace increasing. The console creaks beneath your weight, buttons pressing under your palms with soft, electronic beeps that neither of you pay any attention to.

“Look at you,” he continues, and he’s babbling now, his words coming in a breathless stream as he fucks into you. “Taking my cum like you were made for it. This pretty pussy—” His hand slides between your legs, fingers finding your clit. “—this perfect, greedy pussy—you want more, don’t you? Tell me you want more.”

“Yes,” you gasp, because what else can you say? Your body is singing, every nerve alight, Caleb’s cock hitting spots inside you that make your vision blur. “Yes, please, more, I want—”

“Gonna fill you up,” he promises, his voice rough with want. “Gonna pump you so full you’ll feel me for days. My cum in your pussy, my baby in your belly—fuck, Pips, the way you take me—”

His rhythm falters, his hips stuttering, and you feel the second orgasm hit him deeper this time, his cock swelling inside you as he empties himself again. The wet sounds are obscene, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing in the cockpit, and your own climax crashes through you on the heels of his, your cunt milking his cock for every drop.

Caleb doesn’t stop. He can’t stop, or won’t, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he drives into you with a desperation that borders on frenzy. One of his hands finds your thigh, lifting your leg, bending it at the knee and pushing it up onto the console beside your hand.

The new angle is devastating. His cock drives deeper than before, the head catching on your cervix with each thrust, and the sensation walks the line between pleasure and pain so perfectly you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

Your hands are splayed across the console, fingers pressing buttons at random, lights flicker on the instrument panel, a soft alarm begins to beep somewhere to your left, and Caleb either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. His focus is singular, absolute. Your pussy, his cock, the place where your bodies join.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice thick. “Take it all. Every fucking drop. I want you dripping with me, Pips. I want you to feel me every time you move tomorrow.”

His pace increases, his cock pistoning into you with a force that rocks the entire seat, and you can feel him building toward a third climax. His breathing ragged, his fingers digging into your thigh, his cock pulsing inside you with each thrust.

“Cum with me,” he demands. “Cum on my cock. Let me feel you.”

Your orgasm rips through you with a violence that steals your breath, your cunt clamping down on his cock in rhythmic pulses, and Caleb follows you over the edge with a groan that sounds like it’s been torn from the depths of him.

His hips slam forward, holding deep, and you feel the warm rush of his cum flooding you for the third time, his release so abundant you can feel it leaking down your thighs almost immediately.

Your forehead is pressed to the console, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Caleb is draped over your back, his chest heaving against your spine, his cock still buried inside you, still pulsing with the occasional aftershock.

Then, very quietly, from somewhere below you: beep beep beep.

Caleb lifts his head. “Did we break something?”

You laugh. You can’t help it. The sound bubbles up from somewhere deep in your chest, slightly hysterical, slightly delirious, and Caleb joins in, his laughter vibrating through both of you where you’re still connected.

“Probably,” you manage. “Gideon’s going to kill us.”

“Worth it,” Caleb murmurs, and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck. His hand slides around to your stomach again, resting there with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. “So round 4?”

Meanwhile, down on the ground, Gideon is having a normal day in the control room. Which is to say he is slowly dying of boredom while monitoring a radar screen that shows one blip moving in leisurely circles above the cloud layer.

The control room is, like everything else in this museum, a relic. The equipment dates from approximately the Mesozoic era, the chairs squeak when you breathe wrong, and the coffee tastes like it was brewed in a sock. Gideon is slouched in the least squeaky chair, scrolling through his phone with one hand and sipping the sock-coffee with the other, while the two volunteers manning the other stations discuss the migratory patterns of Canadian geese.

Then the speakers crackle to life.

At first, it’s just static. The white noise of an open comm channel, the faint hum of engines. Gideon doesn’t look up. Probably just Colonel Dreamy checking in, or the autopilot doing whatever autopilots do.

Then he hears it.

A moan. Low, feminine, unmistakable.

Gideon freezes. His coffee cup halts halfway to his mouth.

The moan comes again, louder this time, followed by a gasp that has absolutely no business being broadcast through museum-grade speakers at a volume that makes the goose enthusiasts pause mid-sentence.

“—fuck, Caleb, your mouth—”

Gideon is on his feet so fast his chair rolls backward and slams into a filing cabinet. The coffee sloshes over his hand, burning, but he doesn’t feel it. What he feels is the cold, creeping horror of realization as Colonel Caleb Xia Yi Zhou’s voice comes through the speakers, low and rough and entirely too recognizable.

“—gonna take my cock, pretty girl? You gonna let me fill you up?”

One of the goose enthusiasts, a woman in her sixties with kind eyes and hearing aids, blinks. “Is that…?”

“DRILL!” Gideon shouts, with the desperate belief of a man who has just witnessed the first signs of the apocalypse. “EMERGENCY DRILL! EVERYBODY OUT!”

The volunteers stare at him.

“NOW!” Gideon claps his hands like a kindergarten teacher herding particularly stupid children. “Evacuation procedure! Remember the handbook! Chapter twelve! The part about—about—” His brain, racing at approximately Mach 3, grabs the first plausible excuse it can find. “—RADIOACTIVE GEESE!”

The speakers choose this moment to deliver a particularly obscene wet sound, followed by a moan that would make a porn star blush.

The kind-eyed woman’s hearing aids emit a faint squeal of feedback.

“OUT!” Gideon bellows, physically herding both volunteers toward the door. “GOOSE PROTOCOL! I’LL HANDLE THIS! SAVE YOURSELVES!”

He shoves them into the hallway, slams the door, and lunges for the comm panel. His fingers fumble with the switches, killing the feed with a click that plunges the control room into blessed, merciful silence.

Gideon stands there for a long moment, breathing hard, coffee dripping from his fingertips onto the linoleum. From the hallway, he can hear the confused murmurs of the volunteers.

“—radioactive geese?”

“—I don’t remember chapter twelve—”

Somehow the speakers come to life again.

Gideon presses the heels of his hands into his eyes so hard he sees stars.

“I am going to murder them,” he says to the empty room. “I am going to murder them both and hide the bodies in the ball of twine.”

Forty minutes later, the T-93 touches down on the tarmac with a grace that belies the fact that its pilot has just had at least five orgasms at eight thousand feet. The landing gear engages with a hydraulic whine, the engines spool down, and the canopy slides open to reveal two people who look, frankly, like they’ve been through something.

Caleb climbs out first, his hair standing in eighteen different directions, his shirt misbuttoned, a suspicious red mark visible on his neck. He turns to help you down, his hand steady on your elbow, and the way you move, slightly stiff, wincing, your thighs pressed together, tells Gideon everything he needs to know and several things he very much does not want to know.

You both look radiant. Disgustingly, obnoxiously radiant, like you’ve been dipped in glitter and sex and the glow of people who have just had multiple earth-shattering orgasms in a historic aircraft.

Gideon meets you at the bottom of the ladder. He is holding your overnight bag in one hand and an expression of profound, bone-deep exhaustion in the other.

“Here,” he says, and shoves the bag at Caleb with enough force to make him stagger. “Your bag. Which contains, among other things, the condoms you clearly did not use.”

Caleb catches the bag. “Gideon—”

“Do not,” Gideon says, very calmly, “speak to me. Do not look at me. Do not breathe in my direction.” He turns to you, his expression doing something complicated that lands somewhere between fond and homicidal. “You. You unbelievable disaster of a human being. There is cum on the console of a sixty-year-old jet. There is cum on the seat. There is cum on approximately seventeen buttons that I am fairly certain control the landing gear.”

You open your mouth.

“Don’t,” Gideon says. “Just—don’t. The control room heard everything. Everything. The moaning. The—the pussy talk. The part where Colonel Overachiever here came in approximately four seconds and then kept going like the fucking Energizer Bunny.” He runs a hand through his hair, which is already standing on end from his earlier panic. “I had to tell them there were radioactive geese.”

Caleb snorts. You bite your lip, hard, but the laugh escapes anyway. A choked, guilty sound that you try to smother behind your hand.

Gideon points a finger at you. “This is not funny. This is an offense. Possibly several federal offenses. The DAA has rules about—about ejaculating in cockpits, I’m sure of it, I just haven’t found the specific statute yet—”

“Gideon,” Caleb says, and his voice is warm, amused, utterly unrepentant. “Thank you.”

Gideon stops. Blinks. “For what?”

“For being here.” Caleb slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. You fit there like you were made for it, your head resting on his chest, his hand warm on your waist. “For putting up with us. For the radioactive geese.”

Something in Gideon’s expression softens, just a fraction. He sighs, long and suffering, and shakes his head. “You two are the worst people I have ever met. And I once dated someone who collected toenail clippings.”

“We love you too,” you say, and mean it.

Gideon rolls his eyes, but he’s fighting a smile. “Go shower. Both of you. You smell like jet fuel and pussy juice.” He turns to walk away, then pauses, looking back over his shoulder. “And for the record? Happy birthday, Colonel. I hope it was worth almost getting me arrested.”

Caleb’s arm tightens around you. His lips press against the top of your head, and you can feel his smile against your hair.

“It was,” he says quietly. “The best one yet.”

Refer to Party RSVP

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who never relied solely on his parents' good word. Yes, their excellent reputation had indeed opened some doors for him. However, it was his mind and conduct that kept them open.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who's awfully bored by high society, completely uninterested in those pompous ladies and gentlemen in lavish clothes. The shimmer of their pearls blind him almost as much as the fake brightness of their smiles.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who finds his intelligence almost insulted every time he is forced to engage in social gatherings and yet his standing forces him to be present.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who's unmarried, building up his fortune as the years go by.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who would be the most desirable bachelor, with an estate of his own and a lovely sum of a few(a lot rather than few) thousand a year… if it weren't for his cold demeanor. He carries himself with great nobility, and grace, holds his head high. Speaks little when spoken to.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who is utterly misunderstood for you need not to exchange many words with the man to know he is most humble. Humane. So utterly curious and thirsty for knowledge. Who is the most righteous man, who has principles and abides by them.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who couldn't care less for social standing and who will put his extensive knowledge to use whether it be in favor of a King or the poorest pleasant. Who denies no one, regardless of whether they can pay for his services or not. Mr. Darcy!Zayne who overworks himself precisely because he cannot and will not deny anyone proper treatment.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who sees you across the hall and is almost instantly star struck. You who are introduced to him that same night, who smile at him genuinely, without an ounce of courtship. You who already know of his person and yet talk to him just like that, like an actual person. Not like the renowned physician with a grand, ever growing fortune.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who instantly falls in love with the liveliness of your mind, slowly falls in love with all of you, becomes utterly engulfed in your soul.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne who tries to rationalize his feelings as the man of science that he is.

Mr. Darcy!Zayne couldn't care less that your petticoat was 6 inches deep in mud. However, he does worry you walked all the way to his estate.

with finals approaching, you were sitting in the library, struggling as you study for your upcoming physiology exam. sighing, you decide to finally take a break or else you would have a breakdown in the middle of the library. resting your elbows on the table, you lean the side of  your head against the palm of your hand as you glance around the room. eyes occasionally landing on the other students who mimic your exact predicament, you can confidently assume that you having a breakdown would be the last thing they would need to be added to their plate. 

slightly relieved that you weren’t alone in your despair and stress, you let out another sigh as you slowly close your eyes and drop your head face down, burrowing into your now crossed arms resting upon a pile of messy papers, notebooks, and opened textbooks. 

a few minutes later, your head is still buried in your arms as you hear footsteps shuffle into the library that is filled to the brim. thinking back to how you practically had to fight to find an unoccupied table early in the morning, you pity the poor soul who would clearly have to leave soon. 

your attention is now fully focused on being able to identify the footsteps route in order to verify your theory. unconsciously, you hold your breath as you wait for the now approaching footsteps to pass by your table. however, you’re left in confusion when you hear the footsteps stop right next to you. 

refusing to look up, you open your eyes with furrowed eyebrows as you remain in your slouched position. a minute passes by, yet you still haven’t heard a sound to hint any form of movement next to you. deciding to swallow your pride, you slowly lift your head a generous few inches as you glance to your side. you see no one. letting out an early sigh of relief, you move to check your other side. 

before you could fully turn your head, you see the silhouette of someone’s face barely an inch away from yours. terrified, you jolt backward and defensively draw your arms to your chest as you snap your head to completely face to identify the person invading your personal space. 

aghast, you’re still frozen in shock as you process who is in front of you. taking the silence from your gaping mouth as a sign to speak, “hi,” they whisper out in a greeting with a spreading grin on their face. 

snapping out of your daze, your disgruntled expression now paired with extreme annoyance, you immediately reach to throw a pencil at caleb’s smug face. “there’s something deeply wrong with you, you know that,” you scoff out in a sarcastic tone.

despite being slightly upset at caleb, who is now trying his best to muffle his laughter as he doubles over, you move to clear up a spot to allow him to sit next to you. 

gratefully taking the spot presented to him, he teasingly lets out, “you love that about me,” as he makes himself comfortable. 

afraid of being caught, you avert your gaze as you hear your heart beginning to race and your face flushing, “yeah, yeah, whatever,” you murmur out as you start to return studying.

caleb, who is clearly refusing to leave you alone, scans the mess scattered around you and softly makes a comment, “is this physio, the one that you’re struggling with?” 

surprised he remembered your passing complaint, you drift your gaze to meet his eyes that were already staring at yours. “yeah,” you breathe out. turning back to fully face him once again, you smile out, “you remembered.” 

now, caleb is the one sporting an disbelieving expression, but before he could defend himself, you cut him off with another question. “wait,” you reach a hand up to further emphasize your desire for him to stay quiet. he happily complies with your demand and hums in response. 

with a slightly bewildered expression, you take a pause to glance at him up and down to analyze his body language. patiently waiting, caleb nods his head as he lifts both eyebrows to push you to continue speaking. your eyes meet his comforting gaze as you finally question, “how’d you even know it was me sitting here,” you hint at how your face was hidden when he approached you with confidence. 

caleb’s content state instantly morphs into an offended and defensive one as he rolls his eyes and accuses you, “are you serious?” at your silence, caleb leans in closer, which leaves a nose touching gap between the two of you as he confesses with a smug grin, “i’d be able to recognize you in every universe.” he pulls back and brings a finger up to flick at your forehead as your heart races even faster, “no matter what,” he finishes off as your face flushes.

trying your best to pull yourself together to prevent revealing your secret to caleb, you avoid his eyes as you attempt to break the tension between the two of you, “even in a universe where we’re animals,” you cringe at the question as you ask him.

ripping his gaze from the side of your face to focus on pulling out his studying materials, caleb plays along with you, “especially then,” he huffs out. “we’d be the cutest cat and dog duo to grace the world,” he mindlessly smiles out, “don’t ya think,” he glances at you from the corner of his eye as you hum out in agreement. 

you knock your shoulders into caleb’s playfully without removing your gaze from your textbook. “the best ever,” you emphasize with a breath-taking smile growing on your face as caleb retaliates with his own shoulder shove into yours, and with that, the two of you quiet down and focus on your studies.

not even 30 minutes later, the silence between the two of you is broken by a stressed out groan as you slam backwards into the backrest of the chair. as you tilt your head to completely face the ceiling as you rub your face with your hands, you feel a foot nudge yours. spreading your fingers to allow yourself a peek at caleb, you meet his already waiting eyes that are amused, yet worriedly looking at you. 

caleb questionally tilts his head to silently ask if you were okay. in response, you quickly shake your head as you return to your previous position to reassure caleb, “it’s nothing,” you sigh out. noticing that caleb refuses to move on until you properly give him an explanation, you continue speaking, “it’s just so much to memorize,” you complain.

caleb hums out in understanding before he makes an offer, “i can help you, if you want,” he shrugs in an attempt to appear nonchalant despite him repeatedly flicking his gaze between you and his papers to check on your expression. 

“and how would you help me out,” you question mockingly.

“don’t knock it ‘till you try it, honey,” caleb taunts back with a smirk on his face as he mindlessly draws on random pieces of paper. 

shaken up by his unusual usage of pet names towards you, you unintentionally agree with a stammer. caleb, not noticing how much the pet name affected you, beams in excitement, “perfect,” he proclaims as he scrambles to pick up your abandoned flashcards to quiz you. 

clearing your throat, you stabilize yourself and begin to copy caleb’s movement to reposition yourselves to completely face each other. 

“ready,” caleb questions with a quirk to his eyebrows, flashcards covering the lower half of his face. you nod as a signal for him to start. 

caleb takes his turn to clear his throat as he begins his first question, “okay.” he glances up from the cards, “what’s the difference between innate and acquired immunity,” he asks. 

you hum as you piece together a more generalized answer, “innate’s more general, like skin being a physical barrier,” caleb nods along, which gives you more confidence, “and acquired is more involved with antibodies to build memory and all that,” you finish off satisfied with your answer. 

however, caleb raises a hand to motion for you to continue on, “and what’s an example of an APC,” he adds on when he witnesses your face morph into one of confusion. now you’re utterly lost because you don’t remember writing down this much detail on the notecards, but you go on to carefully answer, “macrophages,” you drag out. 

finally content with your response, he nods as he moves to pull out a different flashcard, but you stop him by grabbing the stack of notecards. “wait,” you stare at him with suspicion as he lowers his hands that are holding onto the flashcards that are now obscured from his vision. 

you begin your interrogation once you’re sure caleb has his complete attention on you, “how the heck do you know what an antigen presenting cell is,” you gawk out. caleb proudly grins as he relishes in your impressed expression while you lightly shake the pile of flashcards that he’s still gripping, “it’s nowhere on these flashcards and you don’t even take this class,” you gape. 

smirking as if it was obvious, caleb confesses, “duh,” he removes your grip on the notecards. his smug expression drops to form a content, satisfied, and adoring smile and gaze aimed towards you. “i may have studied a bit on my own,” he shrugs off as if what he did was a normal everyday thing while your already dropped open mouth gapes open even wider. 

your mouth snaps close as your own adoring expression slowly spreads across your entire face, “why would you do that for me,” you shakingly breathe out. 

unintentionally or not, caleb leans in to close the gap between the two of you once more as he whispers out, “you make it sound like it’s hard to want to do anything for you,” he confesses, but this time without a hint of a smirk, grin, or smile, but with the most serious and genuine expression you’ve ever seen him adorn. 

his confession drags a gasp out of you. maybe there is a chance, you begin to spiral as hope fills you to the brim. the tension begins to suffocate you as the two of you refuse to break eye contact. the lack of space allows you to search his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but you can only find pure sincerity radiating off him. your heart begins to beat so fast that you’re afraid it's actually a heart attack. a minute passes and the two of you remain in the exact same position, not moving a muscle. realizing that this is your chance, you take a shaky breath in, anxiously preparing to finally confess the decade of pent-up desire, care, and love you’ve held for him. 

with your heart beating out of your chest and caleb’s unwavering stare remaining on yours, you open your mouth with a quiver in your lips. 

then caleb’s phone goes off. 

the tension immediately shatters as caleb pulls back as soon as he processes the special ringtone blaring out in the silent library. the special ringtone that he had set up for one person only, mc. after verifying the incoming call belonged to mc, caleb instantly accepts the call while simultaneously packing up. 

with a single glance towards you, caleb rushes out of the library as he hurriedly responds to mc on his phone. 

as soon as the library door closes, you’re broken out of your daze as you realize you’ve been abandoned. you don’t understand what just happened. you’re mindlessly packing up as you’re recovering from the feeling of having the rug pulled out from underneath you. 

the only thing you know as a result of whatever incident just conspired was that you will always remain behind mc in caleb’s eyes. 

you felt stupid for even believing that you had a chance. despite the crushing feeling on your heart, you refuse to let yourself cry over this. sighing, with a slight wobble of your lips, you finish packing up and move to the exit with a single thought.

this was a perfect reminder why you’ve hidden your feelings for ages, and why you will continue to until you’re finally over caleb. 

—

a few weeks have passed since the library incident with caleb, and other than a few brief greetings, you and caleb haven’t had a proper conversation with how busy and hectic everything has been, especially with the preparation for caleb’s graduation 

despite the awkward tension between you and caleb, you still plan on attending his graduation since caleb was officially leaving for skyhaven to attend the daa. 

sighing, you glance down at the bouquet of flowers resting in your hands as you wait outside the venue for mc to show up with your tickets. you fumble about on your phone to appear busy when you hear mc call out your name. 

looking up, you barely have time to move your flowers out of the way before mc tumbles into your arms. breathless from the tackle-like hug, you greet mc in a pleased tone, “you’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in years.”

pulling away from the hug and now being able to fully see your face, mc’s face brightens up even more as she greets you back, “feels like it,” she giggles out. as she drags you to the entrance of the venue, she apologizes, “sorry for being late.” she rolls her eyes as she interlinks your arms together, “caleb was being difficult as usual,” she huffs out. 

the mention of caleb’s name immediately causes you to tense up, which mc instantly notices. despite your rapid attempt to cover it up, mc refuses to let the topic die out. 

mc slightly tugs on your linked arms to draw your attention to her. once she meets your nervous gaze, she starts her confrontation, “listen,” she coughs out. already cringing from the incoming conversation, your face scrunches up as mc continues on, “i know something happened between you and caleb,” she confesses as the two of you make your way to your seats. 

mortified at the thought of caleb telling mc everything, you freeze mid step and snap your head to face mc as she hurriedly reassures you, “he didn’t tell me anything, i swear,” she lugs you back into motion. “i did beg him to, but he wouldn’t,” she embarrassingly murmured out. 

finally sitting down, you turn to face mc as she softly encourages you, “if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.” mc gently squeezes your arm in comfort as you avert your eyes, “but i just want you to know that i’ll always be here for you.” 

taking a second to pull your thoughts together, you drag your eyes to meet mc’s as you make your decision to confess, “it’s nothing,” you hesitate before quickly closing your eyes, taking a breath in, and then reopening your eyes to meet mc’s as she nods to show she understands. you shakingly puff out a breath of air as you admit, “you don’t have to worry about me.” you force a smile onto your face as mc furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “i’m slowly getting over him,” you reveal. 

appalled by your insinuation, mc practically jumps up from her seat as she waves her hand back and forth and shakes her head frantically in denial. “what,” she shrieks out, which catches the attention from people around you. as you turn to reassure everyone that everything is perfectly fine, mc continues on with her horrified rant, “please, do all of us a favor,” she grasps both your hands in hers, “and don’t get over him,” she begs. 

shocked by mc’s pleas, you snap your head to meet mc’s desperate gaze. however, before you could interrogate mc about her bombshell of a reveal, the graduation begins and forces the two of you to temporarily halt the conversation to your dismay.

as the valedictorians begin their speeches, your eyes refuse to leave caleb's, who is patiently waiting for his turn as his eyes frantically dart around the audience, clearly looking for someone. you secretly hope that someone is you. 

caleb finally approaches the podium as the last valedictorian to present their speech. despite being in the middle of his speech, caleb’s eyes are still darting around, which are now magnified by him being displayed on the big screen behind him. you notice that he’s specifically focused on your seating section. 

suddenly, caleb halts in the middle of his sentence just as you swear you meet caleb’s eyes. you immediately straighten up, and you can feel your heartbeat pick up. once caleb’s artificial smile turns into a relieved and genuine smile that brightens up his entire demeanor, you begin to fill with hope that he was looking for you. just as caleb rips his gaze away from what you assumed to be yours, mc begins to manically shake your arm in excitement. then and there, you feel the rug pulled out from underneath you once again as you realize that caleb could’ve been staring at mc instead of you.

for the rest of caleb’s speech, he speaks with a gleaming grin on his face while you’re anxiously trying to diminish the rising hope that you’ve desperately been attempting to put out. 

as soon as the graduation ceremony ends, you’re quick to badger mc about the unfinished conversation, but she’s already up out of her seat and dragging you out to meet up with caleb. 

terrified and unprepared to finally hold a proper conversation, you weakly yank mc’s arm back in retaliation, “wait,” you call out to mc who is clearly blocking out everything around her to focus on her one goal to personally congratulate caleb. 

as the two of you eventually spot caleb outside the venue, you let out a relieved breath of air as you notice that caleb is practically mobbed by his fellow classmates. undeterred, mc, if anything, becomes more determined seeing the crowd surrounding caleb, and bulldozes her way through. 

once the both of you are near the group, a few members immediately recognize the two of you from the corner of their eyes and a teasing smile grows on their face as they nudge caleb. as you and mc finally arrive, you’re instantly hounded with introductions and greetings. after introductions are complete, the  group of girls don’t wait a second before they rush out questions. “so,” a giggle breaks out amongst them as they point at you, “you’re the one he won’t shut up about, huh?” 

thinking that they got the wrong person, you glance at mc with a strained smile as the ugly feeling of jealousy arises. however, to your surprise, mc lights up as she empathizes with them, “oh my god, you get me,” she excitedly shouts out. 

at the sight of confusion embedded on your face, the girls knowingly groan out in despair, but before they can complain even more about caleb, he seemingly appears out of nowhere. 

with a broad smile on his face, caleb stares at you, but greets both you and mc, “hi,” he breathes out. ignoring the teasing shoves from his friends as they walk away, his eyes move to mc’s as she steps forward to gift him a bouquet of flowers. “congratulations,” mc shouts out as she giddily embraces caleb with a tight squeeze. caleb happily laughs out as he instantaneously returns the hug while you step back to give them their moment. 

feeling out of place, you avert your gaze to the ground as you kick pebbles around on the floor, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. 

however, you don’t have to wait as long as you expected when, not even a minute later, mc grabs your arm to slightly tug you forward. a bit startled, you redirect your gaze from the ground to face both caleb and mc who are already looking at you. 

before you can speak, mc beats you to it, “i’m going to go meet up with my other friends to congratulate them,” she knowingly smiles as she announces her exit. just as she begins to make her move to leave, she gives both you and caleb a stern look. mc moves behind caleb preparing to rush off, “you two have fun,” she shouts out just before giving caleb a harsh shove that barely forces him a step forward towards you. 

now left alone and standing a foot away from each other, you’re both silently staring at each other. you’re sporting a nervous grin while caleb is seemingly relieved that the two of you are finally about to hold a proper conversation. 

“hi,” caleb whispers out. 

your nervous smile turns into a proud one as you finally take in caleb who is fully adorned in his graduation gown. extending your arm, you hand caleb the bouquet of flowers you had purchased for him. “congratulations,” you cheer out. 

with an impossibly wider than before smile, caleb accepts the flowers. “you didn’t have to,” he claims.

shaking your head jokingly, “what kind of friend,” caleb’s face falters at the label, “would i be if i showed up empty handed,” you tease.

being called a ‘friend’ instantly morphs caleb’s smile into an irritated, tight-lipped smile. however, before you can realize the tension, he recovers and coughs out, “hey,” forcing a smile back on his face as you peer at him with a confused, polite grin. “i’m sorry,” he forces out.

he pauses to analyze your ever-growing confused face, “about abandoning you at the library,” he blurts out.

your face immediately falls at the mention of the intimate, yet awkward moment that you’ve attempted to bury. 

sensing that you were about to dismiss the topic, caleb rushes to continue clarifying the misunderstanding, “i’ve known mc my entire life,” he states the obvious. “i’ve grown used to being with her for so long that it’s practically all i know,” he bears his heart out to you as you quietly listen along while holding his gaze with shaky eyes. 

the conversation is heading into an unknown area that you’re more than happy to avoid, but caleb refuses to hand you that satisfaction. despite there being multiple possible endings to this confrontation, you’ve already made up your mind on how you want it to end. 

“you’re not second to mc,” he falsely claims.

breaking your silence, you close your eyes in frustration as you whisper out, “don’t lie to me, caleb,” voice cracking.

gulping, caleb hoarsely confesses, “i’m trying-”

“don’t,” you stress out as you snap your eyes open, “don’t start something you can’t commit to, caleb,” you beg. “i deserve better, more than that,” you declare as you begin jabbing your finger into his chest. 

caleb furrows his eyebrows in desperation as he grabs your jabbing finger, “please,” he slowly repositions your hand to flatly rest above his heart while simultaneously interlacing them together. 

shaking your head, you defeatedly admit, “i don’t know what you want me to do.” you’re tired of this back and forth and you’re ready to end it, which becomes adamant to caleb as he visibly becomes antsy with distress and breathlessly pleas out, “a chance.” he squeezes your interlinked hands, “just give me one chance.” 

“you’re moving to skyhaven soon, caleb,” you hopelessly remind him. “how can you guarantee me your all while you’re going to be islands away,” you pull your hand free from his, “when you couldn’t even give me your all when i’ve been in front of you for years,” you cry out in anguish. you’re flailing your hands around, unable to hold in your pent-up emotions while caleb lets his arms fall to his sides as he feels everything unravel. 

finding his voice again, caleb finally speaks out, “i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he pathetically whimpers out with a frown on his face. “don’t give up on us now,” he dejectedly stares you down as he clenches his fist in frustration. 

you halt your flailing to wrap your arms around yourself in a defensive manner as you let out one last cry of disbelief, “that’s not fair, and you know it,” you spot another group of caleb’s friends rapidly approaching him from behind. caleb doesn’t notice, but you know that the end to this conversation will arrive the moment caleb’s friends reach him. 

moving your gaze back to caleb’s, you harden your face, “you have no right saying that,” the group is now a meter away, “when i’ve waited years for you to wake up,” you finish right as the group ambushes caleb. despite being infuriated at his friends for interrupting the conversation that would determine his entire future with you, caleb forces himself to tear his desperate gaze from yours and strain out a civil smile on his face.

as you take a step back, preparing to leave, a few members of the group acknowledge your presence. you freeze in place as one member turns to face you with a smile as they politely question your relationship with caleb, “are you and caleb, y’know, together?” at the inquiry, caleb instantly jerks his head to face you, obviously eavesdropping while holding in his breath as he awaits for your life-changing answer. 

moving your gaze to meet caleb’s with a stiff smile forcing its way onto your face, you stare into caleb’s eyes as you answer his friend, “maybe in a different universe,” you weakly confess. then, without looking back once, you walk away, not realizing that this would be your last time seeing him.

—

caleb’s dead. 

the news of caleb’s death shattered both you and mc, and ever since then, the two of you have been closer than before.

you’ve known about mc’s growing conspiracy theory about the so-called truth behind the cause of caleb’s death. although you don’t completely support mc, you don’t fully shut down her ideas either. you’re still mourning and drowning in guilt that you refuse to accept, so you always try your best to avoid any mention or hint of caleb. as a result, you haven’t been anywhere near skyhaven. 

however, after successfully avoiding skyhaven for months, you finally find yourself on the cursed island. sighing, you begin to hurriedly, yet stiffly, search every inch of the island for mc.

you were already anxious with how mc hasn’t been answering her phone, so you decide to poke around trying to figure out what she has been up to. after finding out that mc requested time off, and now that she has supposedly disappeared, you immediately know that she has headed off to skyhaven to continue her investigation. 

your fears are proven correct when you arrive at the plaza to witness mc being attacked. without waiting a second, you jump in to help mc, who is noticeably struggling to defend against her attacker.

whipping out your weapon, you fire at the attacker, which temporarily distracts him from his focus on mc. taking advantage of his brief flustered state, you make a run to mc as she finally realizes that it’s you coming to her aid, “what the heck are you doing here,” she panically exclaims. 

scoffing, you respond with the same tone, “i could ask you the same thing,” as you attempt to find cover for the both of you to hide behind while you notice the attacker regaining his bearings.

however, before the creepy man can launch another attack, he is pushed back by another attack coming from a distant third-party participant that you can’t spot. without waiting for the person to reveal themself, you drag mc behind cover as the sounds of gunfire ring out. 

you don’t have to wait long for a silence to break out. after a few seconds pass by without any further sounds, you decide to come out from your hiding spot to face a single man standing in the distance. you note that the silhouette doesn’t resemble the original attacker.

while mc seems to recognize who the shadow belongs to, you’re on guard as you slowly approach the person. 

then, the person slowly turns around, and you freeze mid step as you meet his eyes. 

and there he stood. caleb. your caleb. 

the same purple eyes that you fell for stares back at you, however, they’re no longer the same. instead of the untainted, bright and cheerful youth radiating from them, you meet a pair of eyes that reflects the worn-out, guarded man that now stands in front of you.

despite caleb being reborn into a whole new person, he still holds that same sincerity that has been making your heart race since the beginning of time. 

your mind is completely scattered as the man, who you swear is caleb, begins approaching you. he’s supposed to be dead, so there is no way he can be in front of you, yet he is. you’re terrified that the grief is finally catching up to you and causing you to begin hallucinating now that you’re in skyhaven, the biggest reminder of what was supposed to be caleb’s future. 

your ears are ringing as you begin to panic. you’re heavily breathing, eyes and mouth wide out in utter shock as both caleb and mc surround you. 

they’re attempting to speak to you, but you still can’t hear them. all you can see is this cruel imposter imitating the one and only love of your life, and all you can think about is getting away from him. it’s too much for you to handle. 

quickly raising a hand, you move to place it on his chest, putting all your strength into your shove as you shout, “get away from me,” your terrified face reflecting your conflicted state. 

however, without waiting a second, the man quickly, but carefully, moves a hand to cover your hand that’s still burning against his chest. you don’t fight back as you move your petrified gaze down to your encased hand as he repositions it over his heart. you’re getting deja vu, and it’s doing anything but help you. 

unable to tear your gaze away from the familiar action, you fail to notice how your shaking hand against his steady one starts to grip at his shirt, nails slightly digging into his skin. your mind is racing when you feel a hand gently push back the fallen strands of hair that slightly obscure your face. 

you’re finally able to rip your stare away from your now interlaced hands when you feel the same hand that was brushing your hair back softly rest on your cheek, clearly trying his best to not startle you. 

as you meet those damn purple eyes that haunt you every time you close your eyes before heading to sleep, you know it’s him, and you can’t help but crumble as the nostalgia, guilt, and heart-aching want rushes out despite spending forever trying your best to bury it deep in your heart. the strong front you put on to provide mc with some sort of stability completely shatters at once as you sob out, “caleb,” gasping for air. 

sensing you slowly come out of your panicked state, a relieved smile breaks out on caleb’s face as he croaks out, “hi, honey,” he rubs his thumb in a smoothingly manner on your cheek, “it’s been a while, huh,” he attempts to reassure you. 

mc, who has been quietly sitting and watching from the sidelines, mimics caleb’s relieved state as she witnesses you jump into his embrace. you’re too busy to notice, completely unravelling as you uncontrollably wail into caleb’s neck, but mc isn’t as she witnesses how caleb’s guard finally drops, lets out a heavy breath, and closes his eyes as soon as your arms wrap around his neck. 

from a distance, the three of you would appear maniac, but between the three of you, there was a mutual relief at the long awaited reunion amongst the three children, at heart, who were each other’s everything. 

—

on the way back to caleb’s skyhaven apartment, caleb adamantly refuses to say a word until both you and mc were fed and cleaned up. reluctantly, you comply with caleb’s negotiation.

with the both of you cleaned up, all you had to do was wait for caleb to finish up making dinner for the three of you. in an attempt to be sneaky, you offered to assist with the cooking to get him alone, but he instantly shut you down with a broad smile on his face. 

thus, you and mc were both sitting down next to each other with your back against the headboard of the bed. in contrast to your position of having your knees to your chest, slouched over, mc has her legs extended as she patiently waits for you to break the silence. 

after taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you eventually turn your head to face mc with your cheek squished against your knee. mc sensing your gaze burning into the side of her face, turns to meet your distant eyes as you ask her, “how long,” you exhale out. 

despite lacking context, mc knows what you’re asking about right away. without losing her nerve, mc steadily answers you, “not long.” she maintains eye contact, “a few days ago, max,” she reassures you. 

“you know i would’ve told you as soon as possible if i could,” she comforts you as she reaches over to rub your arm.

as soon as you smile in response, a knock resounds out through the room. mc gives you arm a light squeeze as she looks up right when caleb walks in to check up on the two of  you.

although you can feel caleb’s eyes on the back of your head, you’re too scared to look up. you’re terrified that, at any moment, you’ll wake up and find out everything was a dream. however, you know that you’ll have to end up facing your fears sooner than later. 

the silence extends, which makes it obvious that caleb is clearly waiting for your response. after briefly closing your eyes, you take a breath in and muster all your courage to look up. 

to your surprise, when your eyes land on caleb’s face, he’s already softly smiling, “dinner’s  ready,” he declares as he steps away from the door.

another stillness envelopes the room as the three of you move to the dining table. as caleb takes a seat next to you, you unintentionally tense up. you’re still struggling to cope with the betrayal of mourning for months over a man who has been alive the entire time. you understand that the two of them would never willingly hurt you and withhold such important information from you, but you can’t help but feel blindsided. 

in an attempt to break the tension, mc hums out, “so,” she glances between the two of you, “are you two finally together now,” she carefully teases.

you let out a weary laugh as you mindlessly push the food around your plate. however, out of mc’s line of sight, you slightly nudge caleb’s foot to reassure him and a matching pair of small smiles breaks out on both your faces as you feel caleb nudge your foot back. 

noticing the interaction between you and caleb, mc rolls her eyes as she quickly shovels food into her mouth in an attempt to hurriedly leave the two of you alone, “okay, i’m out of here,” she mumbles with a mouth full of food. after running to put her place into the sink, mc runs off to her room, “have a good talk,” she announces right before she disappears down the hall. 

as soon as you hear the door close, you instantly drop your utensils and snap your head to face caleb, demanding an explanation. before he can fully set his utensils down, you command, “start from the beginning,” which he obeys without waiting a second after. 

—

the next morning, mc awakens to a deafening silence. a bit concerned, especially since caleb tends to be a morning person, she goes on to investigate the unusual environment. 

carefully tiptoeing through the halls, mc slightly opens the door to caleb’s room and peeks in. when she doesn’t see any sign of life, she becomes a bit more anxious as she hurriedly checks every other room and still doesn’t see anyone. 

as mc is rushing down the hall to check for the presence of shoes at the front door, mc freezes when she passes by the living room. in the corner of her eyes, she spots something unusual in the midst of the living room that causes her to reroute and slowly approach the living room. 

once mc gets close enough, the concerned expression on her face immediately melts to form into a beaming and teasing smile at the sight of you and caleb cuddled up and asleep on the couch. whipping out her phone, mc immediately takes photos from every angle to commensurate the moment. satisfied with the storage breaking amount of photos taken, mc begins to scan the photos of you asleep on top of caleb with your cheek squished against his neck while caleb has his face, primarily his lips, pressed against your forehead. however, the most prominent detail that instantly stands out to mc is that both you and caleb are securely gripping onto each other, even in your sleep, as if the two of you are afraid that the other will disappear when they aren’t looking. 

after a minute or two of scanning the doors, gideon becomes reassured that caleb won’t storm in any time soon. huffing out a temporary relieved sigh, he returns his gaze to meet your confused stare. he doesn’t fail to notice how the kitten copies you and is now looking at him too. 

“c’mon,” gideon groans out while you continue to stare with furrowed eyebrows. 

at the sight of your expression, he throws his head back to face the ceiling while shoving his hands into his pockets. it’s not hard to tell how exhausted gideon gets with having to deal with you and caleb, and you can’t blame him. but, just because you understand doesn’t mean you’ll put up with his whiny and vague behavior. 

now irritated with gideon being a pain, you quickly jab at his knee. instantly, he yelps out and doubles over to soothingly rub at his knee. without stopping, gideon glares up at your satisfied expression. 

“you used to be nice before caleb,” he whispers, but clearly not quiet enough when he sees you quickly straighten up and turn to fully face him. 

however, before you can jump to your beloved boyfriend’s defense, gideon beats you to it. 

straightening up himself, gideon tiredly lets out, “why would caleb want a kitten that reminds him of himself?” he maintains the same knowing expression as he witnesses you go through the entire process of realization and embarrassment. 

a silence breaks out as both of you turn back to the kitten. sensing that his freedom and safety was going to be returned to him soon, gideon’s mood lifts as he approaches the enclosure the kitten is residing in. unfortunately for him, you break his brief stress free moment when you questionably murmur, “are you sure,” as you trace patterns on the glass. 

without waiting a second, gideon drops his head and exasperatedly answers, “you’re the one who insisted on bringing me along ‘cuz i supposedly know caleb the second best after you, your words by the way, and now you’re doubting me?” 

slightly embarrassed with your overthinking, you finally pull yourself together and agree with gideon. “okay, you’re right,” you nod while you continue to stare down the kitten. gideon, on the other hand, visibly lights up, “i am?” 

“yeah, she’s perfect,” you turn to meet gideon’s relieved smile with a beaming one. 

after completing the documents, you, gideon, and your newly acquired kitten are on the way back from the adoption shelter with a comfortable silence lingering between the three of you. 

despite making it clear to gideon that you wanted to be the one carrying the kitten, he was scarily adamant about your hand not being anywhere near the handle of the carrier. you know that his odd reaction has something to do with caleb, so you dejectedly complied.

you’re doing your best to hold yourself back, but you can’t help continuously peering over gideon’s build to sneak glances at the napping kitten. gideon is also doing his best to ignore your actions as he stares at the path ahead, but he immediately checks on you when he feels your gaze move onto him. 

feeling caught, you avert your gaze the moment you meet gideon’s as you clear your throat. “so,” you drag out, “what did caleb get me,” you ask as innocently as you can manage. 

gideon doesn’t even slow down his stride as he scoffs out, “like he would ever tell me.”

—

the kitten has been staying over at gideon’s to avoid caleb’s suspicion. unfortunately for you, this meant that you had to get updates via secret messages and phone calls. however, both of you knew that it would be impossible to completely keep caleb in the dark. so when he did eventually notice the increase of interactions between you and gideon, you didn’t even try to lie to him. but at the same time, all you gave up was, “gideon is helping me with our anniversary.” 

it’s the night before your anniversary, and you’re currently sitting on the counter, next to the sink, waiting for caleb to finish brushing his teeth. the two of you agreed to stay up until midnight to celebrate every second, especially since caleb’s presence during holidays is rare. 

happy with your response and how you’re not lying to him, caleb allows your secrecy to pass just this once with a tease. “what happened to your self-declared number one spot of caleb trivia,” he grins while slouching to hover over the sink.

you match caleb’s attitude and rest your hands on your hips with a smirk. “i’ve still got it,” you cockily shrug, “i just used a lifeline.” caleb rolls his eyes in response, but all you can focus on is his still wet, slicked back hair that shows off his forehead. 

it’s just his forehead, and, despite your insistent pleas, caleb refuses to give in and show off his forehead more often. you figure that caleb gets some sort of enjoyment from denying you of it. still transfixed, you don’t notice caleb who is now waiting for his towel in your hands. 

to your dismay, caleb definitely notices. now smug with the reminder of how much of an impact he has on you, caleb slides himself between your legs and towers over you. 

the droplets from his hair fall on your face and wake you up from your daze. instantly, you recognize the pleased expression and shove the forgotten towel into his face. with how much the two of you catch each other practically drooling over one another, embarrassment is no longer the immediate reaction, but rather annoyance from the inevitable teasing. 

removing the towel, caleb slightly shakes his head to cover you with more water droplets as he speaks through your mock irritated groan, “i’m more insulted at you phoning gideon over mc.” 

gasping, you quickly pivot to turn on the faucet in an attempt to flicker water back at him. “don’t be mean,” you scold, but before you could actually get revenge, caleb grabs your wrist. 

bending over once more, caleb maneuvers himself and utilizes his grip on your wrist to carefully pull you onto his shoulder as he comments, “alright, time for bed.”  caleb ignores your yelp and begins making his way to your shared bed. both of you know that you won’t make it to midnight, but it’s the thought that counts. 

you and caleb are wrapped around each other when your consciousness starts slipping, and just before you’re completely out, you swear you hear caleb muffledly whisper something you can’t quite make out through his lips that are pressed against your forehead.

—

when you woke up, caleb was already in the bathroom getting ready for the day. you, on the other hand, are still lying on your side of your bed, rapidly messaging back and forth with gideon. 

out of the corner of your eye, you see caleb reenter the room looking as if he’s about to go out. immediately, you turn off your phone with a growing smile on your face. caleb, with a matching smile, begins striding towards you while you’re simultaneously getting out of bed. 

before you can even place both feet on the floor, you realize that caleb is practically already in front of you. knowing how caleb is, you don’t even attempt to make another move, and, instead, patiently wait for him to reach you. 

“happy anniversary,” you can barely finish when caleb interrupts you with a tackle back into bed. your legs are slightly hanging off the side of the bed while caleb is stuck in an uncomfortable position, trying his best to avoid his outside clothes, which were fresh out of the dryer, from touching the bed. 

your laughter, accompanied with caleb’s exaggerated smooching sounds that trail from your neck, to your chin, and all over your face, echoes throughout the room. caleb is trying to speak through his kissing spree, but it comes out muffled, yet barely audible, “sorry, happy anniversary.” 

you know exactly what he’s apologizing for, but you pretend to be clueless. moving his face back down to your neck, caleb halts his affectionate display as he upsettingly confesses, “i’m sorry. mc needs my help with something, but i’ll be quick. promise.” 

a mischievous grin breaks out on your face, but caleb is too busy shoving his nose into your pulse point to notice. you had planned for mc to get caleb out of the house for a solid few hours, so you could retrieve the kitten from gideon. however, since it was your anniversary, mc had to put together an extreme and urgent excuse to distract caleb. thus, you’ve agreed to be at mc’s mercy for three weeks in return for her having to deal with the aftermath. 

you’re too busy polishing up your plan to realize that you never responded to caleb. your silence, however, makes caleb nervous to the point that he finally peels himself off of you. 

at the feeling of caleb’s heavy body being lifted off, you quickly correct your expression to one of understanding just as you meet his weary gaze. sighing, you move to push his hair back while lifting yourself off the bed to peck between his brows. “‘s okay. as long as you come back,” you pull back with a smile. 

in a hurry to get to mc’s and get it over with as soon as possible, caleb reluctantly pulls away and begins to actually leave, but not before he confidently answers, “always.” 

—

you’ve successfully received the kitten, and now, you’ve been waiting hours for caleb to come back home to you. the sunset is reflecting off your face as you sit in the living room alone since you decided to leave the sleeping kitten on your shared bed. 

as soon as you got back and let the kitten settle down, you immediately went to dress up although you and caleb planned to stay home all day. at first, you were excited to see caleb’s reaction to both you and the kitten, but now, the special outfit you bought just for your anniversary felt suffocating. caleb promised you that he would return, and you don’t doubt him. but, you can’t help losing hope as the sun continues to lower as the minutes pass by. 

fortunately for you, your faith in caleb is rewarded when you hear the front door slam open. startled, you jump up from the couch. now wide awake, you quickly spin around as your eyes land on a disgruntled caleb who looks like he just returned from a war. 

shocked at the sudden change in mood, you rush over to caleb’s side without noticing how caleb is obviously hiding something in his jacket. by the time you’re right in front of him, caleb is still stumbling around, trying to get his shoes off with one arm protectively shielding the lump under his jacket from you. 

to caleb’s relief, you’re too focused on caleb’s torn up and mud-stained clothes, the scratches sporadically adorning his skin, and his hair sticking out all over the place. “caleb,” you gasp out. your hands are frantically hovering about because you have no clue what area of caleb’s body to begin checking up on. 

once caleb finally catches his breath, he huffs out a drained, “i’m sorry.” he begins to gently push you further into the house with one hand while the other is still holding the hidden lump. “i’m sorry you had to wait so long,” caleb rushes out. however, his attempt to calm you down causes you to worriedly scoff in response instead. 

the two of you are by the bedroom door when caleb cuts you off with a giddy smile, “i”m fine, i just had a little bit of a hiccup getting your gift.” 

bewildered, you shriek out, “a little?!” 

ignoring your exclamation, caleb excitedly nods as he pleads, “close your eyes.” 

shocked at how dismissive caleb is being about his disastrous state, you continue to stare him down with a baffled expression without saying a word. realizing that you won’t let this pass, caleb guides his free hand to interlink with your hand and squeezes. 

adding a pout to his already pleading, puppy eyes, caleb repeats himself, “i’ll explain everything later, but for now, close your eyes, please?”

with confirmation that caleb wouldn’t brush over the incident, you hesitantly comply with his request. as soon as you finish closing your eyes, caleb briefly lets go of your hand to adjust both of your hands to be cupped together, hovering in the air. 

you hear caleb’s jacket being ruffled around before you feel him quickly press a kiss to your check. “happy anniversary,” he whispers against your cheek. then, without giving you a chance to reply, he pulls back and gently places his very familiar feeling gift in your hands. you know exactly what caleb got you, and you’re ecstatic. 

without waiting for his permission, you rapidly snap open your eyes to meet caleb’s doppelganger in kitten form staring back at you. “no way,” you gasp out. immediately, you carefully, yet hurriedly shove your hands, which were coddling the kitten, back into caleb’s chest as you simultaneously shout out, “wait here.” 

once caleb has the kitten securely in his hands, you disappear into the bedroom. you spot the once napping kitten now awake and stretching on the bed. quickly, you pick up the kitten, but as you approach the open door, you only eagerly peek your head out to mimic caleb’s earlier demand, “close your eyes!” 

despite being confused, caleb obediently shuts his eyes close as tight as he could muster to make sure that you know he’s not peeking. slowly, you move to stand in front of caleb and proudly present the kitten you got him in your hands. “okay, open your eyes,” you impatiently demand with an expectant smile. 

with your permission, caleb slowly opens his eyes. but instead of immediately looking at the kitten that you’re happily showing off, caleb takes a moment to scan your beaming smile before drifting his gaze down to the kitten in your hands. 

caleb’s face drops. undeterred, you, on the other hand, are smiling even brighter at the sight of caleb’s panicking face. don’t get him wrong, caleb loves that you two somehow got the same gift for each other. what caleb is genuinely worried about is you having to take care of two kittens alone whenever he has to return to skyhaven. 

however, you quickly quell his worries, “this is perfect!” you move to hand caleb his kitten while you embrace the kitten caleb got you. “whenever you leave for skyhaven, you can take the kitten version of me to keep you company, and i’ll have the kitten version of you to keep me company,” you beam. 

at your reasoning, and the longer he stares at your kitten doppelganger, caleb seems to slowly accept your logic. maybe, caleb thinks, the next time he has to leave, he won’t feel as guilty leaving you behind and he won’t be as lonely in skyhaven. 

—

after showering, both you and caleb are now retrieving the hidden kitten care materials and setting it up while he finally recalls what happened to him. 

“—when i opened the door to mc’s apartment, the kitten immediately escaped, and we spent hours—”

at the reveal, you freeze. caleb instantly notices your lack of movement and pauses. 

you’re slowly putting the pieces together when you ask caleb, “wait, mc was sheltering the kitten the entire time?” at the sight of caleb’s slow nod of confirmation, you yell, “i told mc to keep you busy in the morning so i could get the other kitten at gideon’s!” 

caleb’s confusion morphs into amusement as he watches you realize that you got played by mc. you stare at caleb with widened and horrified eyes while he moves to comfortingly rub up and down your back, “oh my god, i agreed to be her lackey for weeks for nothing,” you wail out.