#calebs

That’s what your head tells you as you look at the drunk boy in front of you. Was his name Nolan? Noah? You weren’t sure. You barely even heard what he was talking about as the held the bright red cup, his eyes slightly hazy. He was probably already drunk. 

The party was a bit too much. It was your first– and possibly your last. The music was loud, and the people were clumsy and got drunk way too fast. You felt out of place, but what’s uni life without partying? You only wished Caleb were with you. 

That drew a sigh out of you, momentarily making Nolan (whatever his name was) pause. His lips curled into a lazy smile.

“Bored?”

“No, no.. just, you know.” You shrugged, tapping his arm lightly. “I’m listening, keep going.”

He nodded, going back to his topic of the baking competition he had. Caleb loved baking. He used to make you the sweetest apple pie, back then. You ate them in the garden, laughing and talking about future plans. About how he said he’d become a pilot and fly you around. About how you said you’d be an engineer and build the plane for him. It was all so sweet back then. 

It’s not like something happened with Caleb, you were still friends. You still hang out after class– even if his department is on the other side of the campus. You even have lunch together sometimes. The only difference is that it started getting harder and harder to pretend you don’t have a big, fat crush on him. Who would’ve thought all those “I’ll marry you”s from childhood would turn into an actual wish of yours? 

You smiled at that thought, and Nolan smiled back, probably thinking you smiled at him. Crap, you really need to focus, or else you’d give him the idea that you want him. 

“Wow, 20 minutes in and you finally smiled at me.”

That got a chuckle out of you. “Sorry, I’m usually a really smiley person, you know.”

“I do, actually.” At your confused face, he continued, “We’re in the same Physics class.”

“Oh! Right, right we do.” You nod, slightly embarrassed of your poor memory. “Sorry, the drinking makes it hard to–uh, decipher faces, i guess.” You shrug. 

He laughs, ready to reply back before someone bumps into him from behind, jostling his drink. You gasp, wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

“Woah, hey.” You steady him gently, suddenly very aware of how close his mouth is to your ear. “I’m—” You laugh again. “Everyone is drunk.”

He studies you for a beat, eyes dropping to your mouth. “I noticed.”

Your breath stutters. Not from his look. But from the way his bangs fell on his eyes, the way his head tilted slightly. From the way he reminded you of Caleb. 

You’re old enough to know this is the point where you should step back. Make an excuse. Put the drink down and apologise again and–

“Kiss me.”

The words leave your mouth before you could soften them. Before you could laugh and brush it off as a kiss. Nolan searches your eyes for a split second before pressing his lips. It was immediate, like he was waiting for your word. You body reacts on instinct, lips parting, fingers curling into the front of his shirt. For a few seconds you let it happen, let the warmth and pressure swallow you whole.

Then you pull back, breath uneven.

“No,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “No, no you– you need to hesitate.”

He blinks, “Hesitate?”

Embarrassed heat crawled up your neck. How were you gonna explain that you wanted him to acct like someone else? 

“Just–” You gulp “Just a second longer. Like you’re deciding.”

Something like amused understanding flickers across his face. Perhaps he thought you wanted to roleplay. He nods. This time he pauses. Just a beat. Long enough to make your chest ache. His eyes gaze at yours for a split second, then he kisses you again.

You melt into it, heart stuttering. That felt better, more familiar. 

“Your head,” you whisper against his mouth. “Tilt it a little. Yeah– like that.”

He adjusts without complaint, lips brushing yours again, slower now, deeper. His hand slides to your waist, fingers spreading–

“No, not–” You catch his wrist gently, repositioning it. “Here. A little higher.”

He lets out a quiet laugh against your lips. “You’re very particular.”

“I know,” you say, too quickly. 

You closed your eyes more firmly, clutching his shirt like a lifeline. Slowly, it felt more and more like Caleb was kissing you. You could imagine him holding onto you, bringing you closer, kissing you like he finally could, like he waited all his lifetime for it. You could feel it. From the way Nolan’s hands adjusted to your waist like you asked, the way he huffed and moaned quietly.

It hits you all at once, Nolan’s lips and Caleb’s memory, threaded through it.

You don’t even feel guilty when you finally pull apart. You just bury your head in his chest, arms around him. And even as you try not to let Caleb invade your mind, you don’t realise how you were subtly comparing his size to his. You only sigh at that. 

Nolan doesn’t move, just rubs your back for a moment. He said something but you didn’t hear it. Or if you did, you didn’t remember it the next morning when you woke up back in your dorm, hangover, head hurting. You didn’t bother checking your phone as it lit near you from a notification. Probably Nolan. You’ll have some explaining to do, but for now, you get up to the bathroom to wake yourself up. Some cold water would do you good. 

On the nightstand, your phone lit again. Another notification. And another. But you were too far to hear it.

Caleb’s face had nothing but pure dread and agony. The color faded from his skin, his throat dried as he looked at the scene he had caused. The horror he created.

It all happened so fast. So fast that it took him a couple of moments to register what he had done.

One moment, you were behind him, taking cover from the sudden attack that emerged in the fleet HQ. And the next, you were in the arms of one of the attackers, fighting him off as you tried to free yourself. And Caleb had no choice but to ignore whatever he had on his hands already and pointed his gun at the attacker.

Caleb knew how to shoot. He knew how to fight. He knew how to fly jets. He knew how to protect you. All of these were on his list of things he had to be perfect at. So, of course, he didn’t hesitate. He knew exactly where to point the gun so it landed straight in the man’s Temporal Lobe, right in his brain, killing him instantly with minimal chance of failure. The man was turned away from him, struggling with you as he tried to keep you still, and Caleb didn’t give him enough time to anticipate this. He didn’t give him a chance to survive. So he pulled the trigger.

And yet, despite it all, the bullet ended in you.

The man heard the footsteps shift. Saw the glint that radiated from Caleb’s.. Everything, when he turned around. From his badge, his gun, his uniform. And he had just enough force to twist you around, using you as a human shield.

Technically, Caleb’s precision wasn’t a failure. It wasn’t miscalculated. It went straight through the brain and hit the spot just as he wanted it to. And it killed just as instantly as he planned.

But the one lying on the floor wasn’t the man. It was you. Your head snapped at the bullet and fell down. Lethal death. Zero chances of recovery.

The attacker just chuckled, amused, or perhaps proud, at his smart move. He collected the files he came for and left through some portal, probably his evol, possibly some wanderer ability the fleet has to investigate.

In any other situation, Caleb would have stopped him. Would have used his evol and dragged the man back and retrieved the files. He would have thrown him in a cell and cleaned up the mess, writing it on the report as a “low damage attack”. It only took one life, after all.

But this wasn’t any other situation. This was a nightmare. Caleb was so scared that not even his brain dared to have him acknowledge it. The death of the one and only thing that mattered in his life. His sun and moon and entire universe. By his own hands.

He dropped the gun, a pained, weak whimper leaving him as he stepped forward. His first steps were shaky before he hurried to your side, lifting your head up, shaking you.

“Wake up. Get up, get.. Get up, pips.”

His hands frantically shook your head, covering the bullet spot with his palm to hide the blood. As if it would stop bleeding just because he can’t see it.

“I didn’t shoot you. I didn’t. I shot the guy, the... the one who... please, just get up. I’m so sorry, can we call the .. someone get the .. “

His sentences trailed. His breath was getting heavier, making each word weigh more.

He looked down at your face, cradled in his hands. Your flesh was still warm. Still so soft, as soft as he remembers it from when you were young. From when you held his hand when you crossed the street. From when you clung to him in the kitchen. From when you’d pinch his cheeks. From when he covers your lips. From when you kissed this morning.

And for the first time in a while, Caleb felt his heart beat. He closed his eyes and held you close to his chest. Bringing you to the closest thing he knew was alive. As if it’d rub off on you. Or maybe it’ll transfer from him to you. He was so, oh so ready. He’d given an arm to have you live in peace. Gave up his memories, his emotions. Gave up the job that made him happy. Handed what made him who he was with no hesitation, just to have you live worry-free.

And he prayed. He shut his eyes hard, and prayed. To any god, any entity watching over them. Any being up there far stronger than him, far stronger than he’ll ever be. He prayed to take your place. To die and be punished for everything he’s done, any life he took for the sake of the job, any man he hurt for your sake. He was ready to suffer for it all. Just to have you live another day.

Only whispers could be heard from him now. Muffled cries in your neck as he held you close.

“What have I done? What have I done?”

And perhaps to the ones listening, it might’ve sounded like a cry for his mistake. For shooting the innocent girl. For losing his whole world.

But Caleb wasn’t regretting just that. He was regretting it all. From the moment he allowed you back on Skyhaven. When he let you get involved with this life, the same life he had to pick to ensure your safety. The same life that did the exact opposite.

Xavier stands up, shaking his head as he turns towards you. 

“Nothing worth mentioning. There was nothing unusual about their behavior. “

You hum, turning to look at the city. You check your watch—5:03 pm. Your job cost you the whole afternoon, and you were gonna be late for your date with Caleb. He organized a little date for you two to catch up, and you were eager for it all week. But the wanderers just had to appear on the day of the date… hopefully, he won’t be too upset. 

“Come on, let’s go. My watch still doesn’t mention any metaflux energy nearby, so we should be good.” 

You hop on your bike, Xavier sitting behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, causing you to blush slightly. Was that placement really necessary? His hand was brushing your breasts, surely he could shift it a little lower...

“Xavier-” you stop, feeling him lean on your shoulder with his chin. 

“Hm?” he purred, the vibration of his voice making you shudder. You grip your bike handles and lean forward. 

“N-Nothing.” You murmur, starting the engine and driving off. 

You finally reach your building, and you park your bike down the street. As you hop off and take off your helmet, you can see Caleb’s car ahead, parked. He was waiting outside, leaning against it with a bouquet in his hands.

“Hey,” you say when you reach him, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. Friendly enough not to cause issues with Xavier behind you. 

“Hey,” he echoes. “How was work?”

“Tiring,” you hum, running a hand through your hair and stepping back, half turning to your building. “I’ll go get ready quickly, come wait inside.”

“You don’t have to invite me twice,” he says with a smug smile, following you with a glance at Xavier. “Thanks buddy. Her colleague, right?”

Xavier only looked at him for a moment, a visibly annoyed expression on his face. Caleb walked off with the same smile after receiving no response, and Xavier’s eyes followed him. Was that the childhood friend she spoke about? 

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? He scoffs under his breath. Fancy bouquet, big car. He could give you those, too. With some help from Jeremiah, some savings here and there. Is that what it took to impress you? He shook his head and went up to his apartment, trying to calm down the rage inside him. 

Caleb waited inside your apartment as you got ready, and after half an hour, you finally left your room. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” you hummed, twirling in front of him. “How do I look?”  

“Gorgeous, as usual,” he whistled, standing up and opening the door for you. 

“‘As usual’ ?” you scoffed, “Are you saying my efforts are for nothing?”

Caleb laughed, the sound echoing in the elevator. His hand sneaked around your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’m saying you always look gorgeous even when you don’t try.” 

You soften at his words, following him to the car once the elevator stops. Caleb always gave you the feeling that he admired you even at your worst, and this was only verbal confirmation. 

The restaurant he picked was fancy. The lighting was dim, and the ambiance was not too loud. The room wasn’t crowded either. It was perfect, just as everything seemed to be with him. 

“Like the place?” he asked, holding the menu in his hands, his eyes darting between it and you. 

“Very chic,” you hum, gesturing to the menu in your hands. “I don’t know a lot of restaurants that still have physical copies.”

He smiles, closing the menu. “I know you hate the hassle of scanning the QR codes. I had to request menus specifically for us today.” He gestures to the waiter nearby. 

“Oh? Special order from the colonel?” you tease, closing your menu as well. He winks as a response just as the waiter approaches your table. He recites his order for him, and so do you, and the boy leaves with a nod. 

The meal went smoothly, the food was great, and you had a great chat with Caleb. On your way out, your conversation carried off smoothly. He took you on a night stroll to see the river, walking slowly to feel the fresh air. 

“-And the engine stopped working, mid-air, suddenly cutting off all communication with the ground. It was right next to the network cables, and I had to navigate it all by myself.”

You hum, listening intensely as he describes what seems to be a typical day at work for him. It must be stressful to be a colonel, and you can only feel pity for him. 

You loop your arm around his and bring your other hand to land on his arm, patting it gently. 

“Poor Caleb, working so hard every day,” you say. “What can I do to get rid of some of that stress for you?”

He looks down at hearing the slight tease in your tone, his eyes slightly widening. 

“You wanna… help me decompress?” he asks in a whisper, his hand moving to grip your waist instead, pushing you even closer to him. You fight off a smile and nod, tilting your head. 

“Not out here in public, tho. Let’s go to the car, my heels are starting to hurt anyway.”

Caleb eagerly nods and holds your hand, rushing to go back to the car. You almost laugh at how excited he seems, the tip of his ears turning redder the closer you get to the car. 

Once you arrived, he opened the door like the gentleman he is, and you got inside. He followed soon enough, and the moment he closed the door, his lips were on yours. 

You melt in the kiss, noises escaping him before he pulls back. “F-Fuck, you’re heavenly”. He breathes, leaning in for another kiss. His mouth devours you hungrily, in an almost animalistic way. After being satisfied with your lips, he trails down your neck, his hands fumbling with the material of the dress you had on. You feel your heart race as he pulls back, suddenly aware of the heat radiating off you. Of how flushed your face is, of how much you want him right here and right now. 

“Are you sure you-“ 

“Caleb.” You interrupt him in a needy plea, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. That was all the confirmation he needed to slide your dress down your shoulders, just enough to reveal your torso. His hands grab your tits, kneading the flesh tenderly, all while he kisses your collarbone, moving his tongue across your skin. You don’t know when, or how, but during the mess of kisses and his burning touch, you find yourself manhandled beneath him, in the back seat. You shiver at the realization and arch your back, needing more contact, more of him in you, on you, I mean. Your arms pull him closer, whimpers leaving you. 

Caleb pulls back for a moment, looking down to admire the masterpiece underneath him. Panting, sweating from just him toying with your flesh.

“This makes everything so worth it,” he whispers, tracing over his hickey lightly. His marks, all over your body. The feeling of pride and possessiveness surges through him, and his pants tighten. Would that pathetic colleague of yours be able to see them? Maybe he needs to make one a little higher so you don’t cover it with a turtleneck.

All thoughts were interrupted once a ringtone erupted from his pocket. His forehead presses against yours. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he whispers, closing his eyes. He tries to ignore it, lets it ring once. Then twice. 

“For fuck’s sake–” he mutters under his breath, sitting up and taking his phone out of his pocket. You slowly sit up as well, sliding up your dress to cover yourself, your face heating up a little from the awkwardness of the situation. Caleb speaks on the phone for a moment before hanging up, tapping on it. 

“S-Something wrong?” you ask, your fingers brushing through your hair. “Work?”

“Mhm.” he sighs, wiping his face before looking at you apologetically. “I’m sorry baby, I just have to get this tiny thing done, and the-”

“No worries, don’t worry about it at all,” you hurriedly say, flashing an awkward grin, hopping off the backseat and sitting in front. He follows you, fastening his seatbelt and yours.

Caleb takes another call in the car, talking about some reports and drones around Skyhaven. You can’t help but feel upset that work has to come between even your intimate time, but a bigger part of you feels bad that he has to work so much. 

Once you arrive at your apartment, he walks you out. 

“Aren’t you in a hurry?” you say, walking beside him up the stairs. You could’ve taken the elevator, really, but you wanted to stall. 

“I got 5 minutes. Not wasting it in the driver’s seat,” he hums. His hand instinctively reaches for your waist, drawing you closer and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. 

“Don’t be, really, it’s fine.” You smile, taking out your keys. “Come by when you have free time, I can help you relax again. 

He smiles, leaning against the doorway. “Oh yeah? I think I’ll be free tomorrow, or the day after that. Matter ‘fact, I think I can be free in about two hours-”

“Caleb.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you look at him, now fully inside your place. Just as you prepared to say something teasing back, a voice emerged behind you. 

“Oh, you’re back.” 

You startle at it, looking back. Behind you stood Xavier, rubbing his left eye with his fist. He smiles at you as he gets close, putting a hand on your shoulder before glancing at Caleb. 

“Thanks buddy.”

You could’ve sworn there was something in the air between the two boys, some electrical energy like this was an anime. Either that or your makeout session in the car is making you dizzy. 

“Xavier, what a-uh, surprise. What..uhm, what are you doing here?” you ask, nervously looking at Caleb as you let out a shaky laugh. 

“Forgot my hoodie,” he hums, gesturing to the one he’s wearing. “And my charger, actually. Do you know where I put it? I’m pretty sure I left it here last time I slept over,” he replied, unnecessarily emphasizing the ‘slept’. You weren’t even sure if that was a lie or not. You frown. 

“You don’t usually sleep here, tho, I’m the one that–” you interrupt yourself, sucking your lips shut. You avoid Caleb’s burning gaze on you, taking a shaky breath. 

“I mean, I’m... i-in any case, thanks for dropping me off, Caleb, see ya.” You hurriedly speak, closing the door. He holds it for a moment longer, looking at you. 

“Sleep well, babe. And call me later.” 

You nod and close the door, leaning against it. You let out a breath, wiping your face with your hand, muttering a ‘fuck’. 

“So”, Xavier spoke again, crossing his arms. “How was your fancy date?” 

You frown at him, pushing off the door. “Xavier! What were you thinking, coming into my apartment like that?!” you scoff, throwing the jacket you held in your hands on the couch, and angrily walking to your room.

He shrugs, sitting down. “As I said, I just needed to get my hoodie back-”

“Oh, don’t play that game with me!” you shout from inside the bedroom, quickly changing into comfy pajamas. You open the door again just as dramatically as you closed it, walking to the living room to sit next to him. 

He laughs, moving closer to you. His hand reaches for your head, petting you gently and threading his fingers along the lengths of your hair. You lean against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. 

Before you realised it, his fingers absentmindedly slide down to your hips, pushing the shorts down. “Xavier,” you whisper, your voice holding a warning tone. “Just checking something,” he replies. he smiles once the shorts are pulled down enough, at your soaked panties, touching them lightly. “Would you look at that?” He hums. You shiver at his touch, biting your lip and mentally preparing yourself to feel him. 

“So wet. Did you miss me?” He whispers as he leans closer to your face, pulling the panties to the side and rubbing you. A sudden moan escapes you, arching your back. Your arms instinctively wrap around him. “Or is it for that bastard? Answer me,” He asks again, his thumb circling your clit. “Y..You, why do you care?” You breathe out in half a moan, half a gasp. 

“Because it should be me,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Without breaking eye contact, he slid two fingers into you, his touch deliberate and slow. His other hand found your thigh, spreading your legs apart. Your body tightened around him, a soft gasp escaping you. You close your eyes as he curls his fingers inside you, his movements deliberate and slow, each thrust sending sparks through your body. You couldn’t stop the sounds that escaped you, each one soft and breathless, driving him further.

“You’re grinding on my hand,” he whispers, almost amused. “Did you do that to him too?” he tilts his head, following your gaze. His other hand gently grips your chin to stop you from avoiding him. His fingers were still curling inside you slowly. You moan, gripping his arm. He grunts at your desperate grip.

His touch got firmer, more insistent, as though he wanted to mark you from the inside. “I guess I could thank him for preparing you for me.” Your body betrayed you again, shivering under his touch, and you cursed yourself for how much you hated and wanted this moment all at once.

Your thighs trembled, your breath caught, and your hips desperately ground into him. You were close to release, you could feel it pulsing inside you. And so could Xavier. 

He took his fingers out abruptly, and the sudden absence made you whimper, body aching with the loss.

And yet, none of the pictures could bring back the memories. You did not know who Caleb is. Or was, at least. You had no recollection of the time spent together, of the pictures, or the life you have apparently shared since childhood. 

After waking up at the hospital, with your head still heavy from the accident, you were bombarded with questions. “Any relatives we can call?” “Your friend Tara came to check in recently.” “Your neighbour left these flowers.” Names of people you didn’t recognize, faces of strangers all around you. It took the doctors a moment to realise you had lost your memory. 

Apparently, your “husband” and you had a car accident. After a 13-day coma, you finally woke up. But your husband died on the scene. 

And that brings you to where you are now, in front of the framed picture at your house. Staring at the face of the man who has been called “your husband”.  The man that you apparently shared a house with not just since marriage, but your whole life. 

“He died,” you whisper quietly, clutching the necklace you had around your neck. His necklace, the only reminder they could bring back untouched from the accident. 

He died. He died. He died. He died. 

You repeated to yourself, over and over. But then why did it feel like you weren’t the only one living in this house? 

You weren’t crazy. You knew that much. Or at least, hoped so. But the aura of something, someone nearby, was too strong to ignore. The quiet presence that lingered in the chair opposite yours in the kitchen. On the empty right side of the bed you slept in at night. In the corners of this house, you once shared with him. With Caleb. 

You were sure you could feel someone behind you when you washed your face in the bathroom. Sometimes, you would see fragments of his face in the reflection. The therapist insisted it was hallucinations, some sort of traumatic response to the accident you endured. 

At night, you would often wake up with cramps around your body. Like something held you tight as you slept. Your muscles had a deep, familiar stiffness to them that you couldn’t recognise. Limbs aching in that weird way only spooning too long can cause, or being held in a specific position. You checked a doctor for it too, but only got some creams and stretching advice. No supernatural explanation. 

Even the dreams you had were tainted with him. You didn’t remember them clearly, only few scenes. Your late husband holding your hand in a grass field. Kissing you so softly you melted into him. Brushing your hair, dressed in white like an angel, light reflecting off his face like a sun kissed sunflower. Fragments of his voice. You often woke up with a deep emptiness within you. Like you lost a part of yourself, which, frankly you have. 

The albums in the shelves were opened countless times. Your old notebooks and journals were all in your bookshelf. His closet was full open, his clothes laid out. You tried desperately to find him again in your head. Hoping that piecing up his belongings, lining up the proof of his existence out in the open in front of you would make it happen.