#gloxym writes

Three times.

Three instances where Caleb Xia felt afraid of the person you were.

In truth, he couldn't quite measure the fear the way a normal person could. He'd seen it all. He's faced off Wanderers that could shred you to pieces without much effort. He's survived several assassination attempts, only one taking his arm in the process. He'd drifted into the inky black darkness of space and came back out the same.

But watching someone like you fight with an Evol that volatile and destructive like it didn't cost you a single thing was exhilarating. The way you moved was wild and unpredictable. Too wild. Too unpredictable.

You fought like you had nothing to lose.

And wasn't that terrifying, when he knew that you had so much to lose. You had a family. You had friends. You had dreams and aspirations with a full life ahead of you. And yet, you were choosing to fight like you never had them to begin with.

What made you so twisted that you so willingly chose to throw your life away?

The second instance was understanding that you were not at all what you seemed. He thought he knew you. Cool. Relaxed. Kind. You got along with almost everyone you met. Your emotional maturity was almost envious. Nothing quite got under your skin as you brushed off insults and complaints with a roll of your eyes and a shrug of your shoulders. "Some people are always going to hate you no matter what you do. So, you might as well just learn to live with it and enjoy your own life." You said once over a dinner date.

Caleb thought he knew you. He truly thought he knew the levels of your anger. He knew when you got annoyed. He knew when you were frustrated. He knew when you just wanted to vent and rant about someone at work. He knew what triggered you. He knew what actually pissed you off.

But to see the true scope of your anger wasn't a violent outburst of power. It wasn't an explosion that led to a fist fight. It wasn't bloody knuckles or busted lips or broken bones. It was so much colder, with malicious intent as you attacked not with your hands but with your words. You didn't speak to intimidate. You weren't trying to win an argument.

You wanted the person that dared to fully piss you off to break.

Vulnerabilities. Secrets. Insecurities. It didn't matter. You hit below the belt. You stabbed them in the back. You threw their mistakes back in their face. Caleb realized you paid far more attention to people than you let on. You knew what would hurt them the most and sat with the knowledge like it was ammunition you weren't ready to use yet.

How terrifying that the person that people looked towards as a friend and confided in was the one person they never should have trusted? That you were willing to set the bridge on fire while they were still crossing just to watch them fall.

Caleb couldn't pretend he wouldn't have done the same thing. He couldn't sit there and judge you when he was just as messed up as you were. The true terror that lied within him was knowing you could easily turn on him and you knew, very down in the depths of your heart, what could absolutely destroy him.

The final instance was when she came back into his life. When the life he lived with you, sharing a part of his home and even a tiny speck of his heart with you, would end.

Caleb knew the day would come that he'd put an end to the relationship he built with you. He just didn't expect it to happen so fast. He never told you, but you never needed him to.

He prepared himself emotionally, mentally and physically. He wanted to give you one final day filled to the brim with excitement and happiness before he delivered the news, because he was so sure that you were going to hate him.

Nothing he did prepared him for your reaction.

He sat you down and told you he was ending things. He revealed the truth to you about the woman he truly loved and how much it meant to him to be with her. He told you that he never loved you.

But you didn't react the way he imagined you did. You didn't scream or yell at him. You didn't tear him apart with your words. You didn't do anything. You just checked your phone, laughing to yourself about something before pocketing it and smiling that you should pack your stuff then.

He thought that you were simply in denial. He thought that you hadn't fully processed his words. He genuinely believed that you were just doing this to fuck with him at this point. He thought... He thought he knew anything about you.

But as you smiled at him, joked with him and teased him that the least he could do was help you gather your stuff from his place, he realized the true terror of someone who could play the part of someone so perfectly human. There was nothing in your eyes.

Your smile reached your eyes. Your voice carried the same casual tone. You responded the way you usually did. You moved like you always did as you packed your stuff. But Caleb couldn't shake off the creeping dread of being in the presence of something so eerily inhuman.

Just how often did you pretend? How long did you keep up the act? How could you so appear so seamless as you went about his home, mulling over what constitutes as yours if you both bought it together. You murmured to yourself as you weighed the pros and cons of taking something with you that you really liked but wouldn't use that often now that you didn't have use for it.

"Aren't you angry?" He whispered behind you as you packed the few articles of clothing you brought in a box, more concerned with the arrangement than the elephant in the room.

"No, not really. Don't you remember what I told you when we started dating?" You looked over your shoulder, smiling at him like you always did. Like he was the only one that deserved to see a smile so full of tenderness and love. That he was the one person that knew the real you. "None of my relationships last. You're just another one that was never meant to be."

How much of it was real? No, he knew it was real. He knew the way you took his face in your hands to pepper kisses all over it that it meant something. He knew that when you looked at him, you saw someone that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He knew that you meant every whispered confession of love into his skin. He knew that you meant every compliment.

Damn it, he knew that you loved him when you held him through his worst moments. Every single time his hands were stained with blood, you took them in yours without fear or disgust and told him that they brought you so much comfort. Every shared laugh meant something. Every look meant something. Every kiss meant something.

The terror wasn't that he felt he was tricked. He wasn't.

It was the fact that the moment he betrayed you, you severed your ties. You didn't even flinch as you took all those moments you shared with him and lit them up without a second thought. In your mind, in your heart, they no longer meant a single damn thing.

He wasn't a friend. He wasn't a stranger. He was something you were tolerating and playing nice with until you were done with him.

And that hurt far deeper than he could ever imagine.

Xavier knew something was wrong the day he saw you sitting on his couch, uninvited with an awkward smile on your face.

He knew that you, out of everyone that remained of the Backtrackers, remained dutiful and isolated from the rest of the team. You didn't show up unannounced without a good enough reason. And yet, there was no great exigency that caused you to break into his home and watch day time television on his couch.

"The mechanic shop you had me maintaining near the outskirts of the N109 Zone is under repair after some nasty Wanderer situation. So, hope you don't mind me crashing at your place."

"Could you not stay at Philos?"

"You forget I'm still angry at Jeremiah. Yeah, no, that's not happening unless you want him knocking at your door demanding compensation for all the flowers I'd destroy out of spite."

"The flowers are innocent."

"Don't care."

And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about you. You never specified exactly what happened, however, crucially, he never pressed you for more details aside from one or two questions that you vaguely answered.

You crashed in the spare bedroom, yet each morning he always saw you on the couch, no matter what odd hours of the night he woke up. You would just wave at him, watching whatever was on. He never took you as the type to indulge in modern television, investing your time in dramas and sitcoms like you had nothing better to do.

"So, if I'm understanding this right, Kim is in love with Taeha, but because of the historical accuracy this show is trying to present, they can't be together because they're both men and being gay is illegal?"

"I'm not even sure what's going on because you've been watching this for the past three days and I just started right now."

"Okay, but, what would be your opinion on that? Would it just be better to elope somewhere and move away?"

"If I understand it based on this half-hour you've made me watch, I don't think that's possible. They're both in the military to start off and Taeha is his commanding officer. They'd be hunted and killed for deserting if they made that attempt."

"Tragic."

"Sure, but since when did you commit so hard to watching dramas? The last time I saw you, your commitment was towards monitoring everything you could about the current technological advancements."

"Mnm, I was. I simply hit a cap point for now and thought a hobby was in order. Besides, I like hanging out with you."

And there was just something about the way you turned to him, eyes soft and smile so tender that made him realize that he never really got to know you. He'd never taken the time to really learn about your likes and dislikes. What other hobbies did you have? Did you try to make friends here, like he and Jeremiah had?

Were you happy with the way things turned out? Did you have any regrets? Did you have any doubts?

Did you feel like you were withering away here?

For the time being, he made the effort to try to learn more about you. He hung out with you more, finding a nice TV show to watch together. He learned what made you laugh the hardest or what trashy show ended up being a guilty pleasure. He learned that you were closeted romantic, catching the tears in the corner of your eyes as you tried to disguise the sniffles when the couple finally kissed.

Before he really knew it, months had gone by with you in staying at his place. He grew accustomed to your presence in his home, always greeting him when he came home and wishing him pleasant dreams when he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He woke up with a blanket over him more times than he could count.

"I noticed something about you."

"Mnm, what's that?"

"You've been wearing the same sweater the entire time. I don't think you've taken it off. With how often you wear it, I can't imagine all the dead skin cells and sweat that might be clinging to that poor thing."

"I'm sure you've heard of them before, but just in case you haven't, there's this machine that cleans your clothes. They call it a 'washing machine' and it's pretty easy to use. You just toss your clothes in, add some laundry detergent and fabric softener, press a button or two and it cleans your clothes for you."

"Uh-huh. But why not wear something else in the meantime?"

"It's my favorite sweatshirt. You gifted it to me a few decades back, don't you remember?"

"Hm, yeah, it looks familiar. I'm surprised it's still in good condition after all this time."

"I take good care of my gifts, Xavier."

He should've known something was wrong at the time, too. He should have noticed it. Aside from the meter, there was nothing noticeably different about the bills that came every month. No extra water usage. No dip in his food bill when he went out. Even the days he was gone longer on missions, the food in his fridge remained untouched. Not even extra dishes.

You always made the excuse that you ate beforehand every single time, too stuffed to even drink a glass of water. He never took the time to question it, believing more that you just did everything outside of the apartment.

Xavier believed in you, even if his instincts warned him in the back of his mind. He trusted you because you were never lied to him. You never betrayed him. You stood by him when the other Backtrackers turned. You sullied your hands with their blood alongside him, knowing the dangers of losing part of your own humanity. Living with the looming threat that if you lost your sanity, you would turn into a Wanderer just like them the longer you remained.

"She's training to be a Hunter now."

"Mnm, it's been a decade since the disaster hasn't it?"

"It has."

"Worried?"

"No. Well, maybe a little."

"Relax. Her Majesty was rather skilled from what I can remember. I'm sure she'll be alright. Just keep doing what you're doing and keep an eye on her from the defectors and everything should be fine."

"Don't you mean 'we'?"

"... Of course."

He should've known then. He should have questioned you right then and there and pressed for more information. But he didn't. He ignored what his eyes were telling him because you were his friend. Because he grew comfortable around you despite the suspicion gnawing inside of him.

Xavier should have known something was wrong when you refused to go see Jeremiah at Philos. You claimed you were still angry at him, but who held a grudge that long? He never knew what it was that made you resent him so much that you just outright refused to even contact him. Which was why he thought he'd try to smooth things over and ask him while he was getting updates on the other Backtrackers.

"Wait, you're telling me that she's been squatting at your place for months now? And she's still mad at me?"

"This week would mark the eight months she's been at my place. She showed up and said that the shop was in repairs. Though, every time I bring it up, she tells me that the construction was delayed due to the increase in Wanderer activity."

"That's weird."

"She's never lied to us about situations like these before, so I trust her. But, I'm also here to see if I can extend the olive branch. I don't really know what it was that made her hate you so much."

"Hm, I want to see something."

"Dodging the question?"

"I'm looking up the updates from her last entry and something isn't quite adding up. You said she's been there eight months right?"

"Watching TV on my sofa like it belongs to her."

"... Xavier, the last update she gave me was almost a year ago. It's been eleven months. She never missed an update before that."

"That doesn't make sense. I understand eight months since she's been with me, but eleven? Where are the extra three months unaccounted for?"

"No idea. You said she was mad at me, right? Enough to not want to talk to me? But, even if that were the case, if she really had a problem with what I told her, she would just message you, not me."

"... I'll try talking with her. Something isn't adding up."

"Tell her I'm sorry, while you're at it. I... I didn't mean to call her out."

"Call her out?"

"She'll know. It's not something I'm allowed to tell you."

Hundreds of possibilities surged through his head on his way back. Hundreds of potential lies. Hundreds of questions that all led to the one conclusion he refused to believe.

You didn't betray him.

You were loyal.

You stood by his side when all he wanted was to make sure that the woman he loved wouldn't have to be sacrificed time and time again for the sake of a doomed planet.

You turned your back to your comrades. You turned your back to your people that cursed their names for their betrayal. You killed people that you once called a friend. You did it all with him, never once wavering.

Had time finally caught up with you?

Were you finally too exhausted of this life and just wanted to go back home?

He needed to finally quell the suspicions that plagued him. He'd rather make an ass out of himself, questioning your loyalty than be weighed with the guilt that his decisions finally pushed you over the ledge.

And like always, when he entered his apartment, you were there, smiling at him and welcoming him home. The TV was on, like it always was. You were watching reruns of the drama you've probably seen a hundred times already.

But things were different. He wasn't allowing his eyes to be clouded in the presence of a friend, but someone that could potentially ruin all the work they've done these past hundreds of years. He was going to see you for all that you were.

"How was Jeremiah? Still tending to his plants?"

"Yeah. But, we need to talk about something." You hesitated briefly, the corner of your lips tightening a bit before you relaxed yourself.

"Can it wait until after the show is over?" A show you've seen a hundred times already? It wasn't that interesting.

Xavier wasn't going to let you deflect. He walked towards you and picked up the remote, turning it off and standing before you. You closed your eyes, sighing deeply before sitting up and meeting his eyes.

You weren't running away. You never did.

"What's up?"

Too many questions sat at the tip of his tongue, his eyes darting around the room for a moment to take in the environment. Was it... always so cold near you? Is that why you wore a sweatshirt all the time? Was there a draft?

The lights never turned on, but the TV was never off. No matter what odd hours he woke up, be it in the middle of the night or late into the afternoon, you were always sitting right there.

Eight months.

Eight months... and he never got close enough to touch you.

Xavier felt his grip around the remote loosen until it clattered to the floor, his heart sinking so deep into his stomach as a cold chill ran down his spine. He a took step towards you. Then another. And another. Each one heavier than the last until finally, he was standing so close, his legs brushed against yours.

You didn't flinch. You didn't move away. But your expression looked so clouded, your smile wavering as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. He reached forward to touch your cheek, feeling something solid, just... frozen.

You were freezing to the touch.

"What happened?" Your eyes fluttered shut, your hand coming up to hold his hand closer to yours, nuzzling your cheek into his palm.

"Something bad. I'm sorry, Xavier. I'm sorry." He dropped down to one knee, taking your face fully in his hands as he watched the tears that gathered finally fall.

"Tell me everything." You laughed weakly, peering at him through bleary eyes, your lips quivering as you tried to keep a brave face for him.

"I failed. I wasn't strong enough for the ambush sprung on me. I didn't have time to react and I didn't know my system's defenses had been breached. The remaining defectors caught me and though I tried to fight them off, eventually I was captured."

Xavier bit his tongue, the anger that ignited within him threatening to overtake him. He couldn't allow his emotions to get out of control right now. Right now, you needed him to stay calm. You needed him to be in the right state of mind.

"They threatened me, tortured me, tried to blackmail me and when I didn't budge, they were willing to use me as bait. The problem is, when you rile someone up enough, they make mistakes. They get so angry and so resentful, they lash out." You chuckled weakly, shaking your head lightly. "They didn't mean to kill me. But... I was hoping they would. It would ruin the mission if you had to deal with a hostage exchange."

Anger gave way to shock. Shock turned to disbelief. Disbelief turned to grief.

"You're dead?" And suddenly, everything clicked into place. Why you never moved from your spot on the couch. Why you never ate. Why you never drank. Why you wore the same clothes every single day.

He was right. He was wrong.

You didn't betray him. You never did.

Your loyalty got you killed.

Your trust and faith in him to find the solution he was so desperate for made you think your life wasn't worth saving.

You swore your allegiance to him. To the Queen. You never wavered.

And in the end, all you got in return was an early grave after dedicating your life to finding a solution and a way back home.

Guilt tore at him in a way he couldn't imagine, his chest feeling like it was caving in on itself as he struggled to maintain his composure. It didn't make sense though. Something still wasn't adding up.

"How are you... here?"

You laughed. You laughed, staring into a fit of giggles before bellowing out with laughter as the tears continued to fall. As you held his hands so tightly, trembling from all the emotions you were experiencing.

"Guess ghosts are real, huh? You know what they say, if you die with regrets, you can never really move on. Didn't think it'd apply to aliens like us, huh?"

It wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all.

He spent these months with you in his home. He watched all sorts of dramas and movies with you. He learned everything he could about you, crossing that bridge and getting to know the person you were.

A hopeless romantic deep down inside. So much, you cried at even the most shallow of love stories because you were happy they were in love. But you cried the hardest when the second lead never got their chance to be with the person they loved. When they let them go... because their happiness meant more to them than their own heart.

"Even if the second lead would have given up their entire soul for the main lead, it takes a lot of whole lotta grit to let someone that means the whole world to you go. Their happiness is all that matters."

No. It couldn't mean...

"Jeremiah said he's sorry for calling you out... what did he mean by that?" Your lips brushed against his palm in a chaste kiss, your eyes slowly dragging from his lips up to his eyes to really look at him.

"He knew I was in love with you."

It never crossed his mind. It never was a thought he entertained when he was so devoted to his beloved. To the young woman he was so desperate to save.

He could argue that you never let it show. He could shift the blame that you didn't like being around people often that he never saw it. He could lie to himself all he wanted.

The truth was in the sweatshirt you wore. The day he gave it to you, you never looked so soft. Your smile was splitting your face, the giddiness rolling off you in waves as you put it on as quickly as you could. The only time you went out of your way to hug him, squeezing him tight as you thanked him for the gift.

It was just a sweatshirt. He got it because it suited you and he thought you would like it since you had been working so hard.

And now you were dead.

"I don't think I've ever seen you cry before, that's so alien. It's a little weird." Xavier couldn't help it. He couldn't help the anguish he was feeling, never knowing your true feelings. Even if he couldn't return them. Even if...

He pulled you tight into his arms, hugging you close and burying his face into your shoulder. His body wracked with sobs, the guilt of every decision he made and all the people he lost tearing right through his chest and carving a hole where his heart was.

You died and remained with regrets.

You haunted him because you wanted to remain close to him.

Even if all you did was spend time watching stupid shows and movies on his couch while he drifted in and out of sleep. That was enough for you. It wasn't fair to you. It wasn't fair at all.

Xavier cradled you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap as he sobbed into the very gift that meant so much to you.

"It's okay, you know? I don't blame you. It was just something that was bound to happen the longer we stayed here." You soothed his back softly, comforting him even in death. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. Even if it wasn't something I couldn't control, I'm sort of glad it happened. It meant I could hang out with you like this."

He shook his head violently, his grip around you tightening so much that he would have left bruises if you were... alive. "You could have done that at any time! Not like this. Not when you're just a ghost in my apartment. Not when..." God his voice never sounded so broken before. "Not when you're dead. Not when your body is somewhere we don't know."

"Yeah, sorry. That was... insensitive of me." He couldn't let go.

He didn't want to let you go.

There was still so much he had to learn. So much he wanted to talk to you about. There was so much time you both were supposed to have. So much time wasted. So much time he could have taken to actually hang out with you. Suddenly, a hundred years felt so damn short. He took the long lifespans for granted and now it was all too late.

"Xavier." You did your best to peel yourself back so that you could look at him. His eyes were burning and his nose was blocked up, but he met your gaze head on. Your fingers brushed against his cheek, wiping the tears away.

He committed your face to his memory. The way your eyes softened when you looked at him with the most gentle smile on your face. The way you looked at him with such tenderness and love, he wished he could see it on you for real.

"I love you." You leaned in to kiss him, your lips soft against his as he gently kissed you back. It wasn't out of love, but he felt you deserved it. You did.

It was closure and you deserved it more than anyone.

He felt it before he saw it. Your form was dissipating right there in his arms, but he didn't pull away. He just clung to you tighter, kissing you harder to give you something before you completely disappeared.

"Thank you." Were the last words you said before you were gone.

He sat there on the floor, his arms empty and his apartment colder than ever. You were never coming back. He was never going to see you sitting on his couch and welcoming him back. He was never going to hear you laugh too hard at a comedy skit or ball your eyes out over some romantic drama.

He was never going to learn more about you. Never hear your voice again. Never see you again.

You were gone.

"Thank you for always being by my side."

He's being so mean about it, too. He's fucking you without a pause in his pace, fast and deep that you feel so full and stretched out while he takes you over the edge.

"X-Xavie, please, pl-please slow down. S'too much!"

You're crying so much, body trembling from the pleasure as you beg and plead with him to slow down a little. You tell him to stop, but he just doesn't seem to listen!

Instead, he's whispering in your ear about using your safe word. That's what it's there for, after all. Don't you remember insisting that he doesn't stop himself until you use it?

"You forgot that you threatened me last time if I stopped before using your safe word? That you could handle it, no matter what you said in the heat of the moment?"

But, you're so cockdrunk and overwhelmed, your voice isn't working very well and you just can't seem to anything out as he drags another orgasm out of you, your walls trying to milk him for all he's got as you scream his name.

"You look so spent. But, I can't stop myself. Mnm, use your safe word, please. Oh fuck, please. Please use it. I can't— mnmm — I can't stop myself. Want to keep fucking you. Want to fill you up more."

He looks wrecked, face flushed with a sheen of sweat coating over his body, pupils nearly consuming the blue of his glossy eyes.

"C'mon, Starlight. Use your safe word, please. Please, please, please, I can't stop my hips. Can't bring myself to pull out of you. If you forgot it, I'll remind you."

Even if he reminds you, whispering the word in your ear with a breathless whine, you can't really think straight enough to even silently mouth the word. He's even telling you that you had a little gesture to signal that he needed to stop, desperately pleading with you to use it if it was too much.

He didn't want to hurt you. He really didn't!

But, you didn't use it. You didn't even try. Instead, the moment he got enough willpower to slow himself down and tried to pull out just to give you a breather, you pulled him back in, legs locked tight around his waist and kept him in you.

Instead, you purred in his ear that he needed to stay right where he was. Even if you were sobbing from the overstimulation, feeling like the world was going to fade away into black, you didn't want him to stop.

"Selfish. You're so selfish, Starlight." He's blabbering into your neck, his cock twitching inside you as he redoubles his efforts to fuck you harder.

"Love it. Love you. Love you so much. Don't wanna be apart from you. Don't want to lose the connection."

And how could he deny you? Even if you're sobbing so much, he won't stop until you're both too spent to even move afterwards. He doesn't care anymore, because he loves you.

"I love you too. I won't try to do it again. I'll stay in you for as long as you want."

You expected proficiency. You expected professionalism. There was the standard and then there was Sylus.

Lately, you were lucky to have bare minimum as the medic bandaged the gash on your leg, your expression hardened as one of your subordinates relayed the shit show back to you through analytical jargon. What a joke.

All for what? His distraction needed help taking care of a boo-boo?

It grated on your nerves, fraying the ends until all that was left was a tangled mess of frustrations and grievances that made your stomach ache. You were still on an adrenaline high when he finally returned from whatever situation that caused him to leave, his expression twisted into something close to disappointment. Maybe that's why biting your tongue was the farthest thought in your mind.

"I thought you could handle it?" You sucked on your teeth, shooting him a glare as you forced a tight smile on your face.

"Oh, my apologies, sir. I didn't know I was supposed to take leadership when you left us in the middle of our extraction." Your voice was pure venom, his eyes hardening as the air was sucked out of the room. Your medic who was patching you up swiftly finished his work before making a beeline out of the room, not wanting to get caught up in the storm.

"Careful. You seem to think you're at liberty to speak to me in this manner." Your hands gripped the examination table tightly, your smile widening further.

"My mistake. Is this better, Boss?" He didn't find it amusing, which was fine with you.

"Watch your tone." Your jaw clenched tight. "You seem to be forgetting yourself in my presence."

You would have laughed if the raw, hot anger wasn't boiling beneath your skin, your chest heaving with every breath as you tried to calm your emotions down into something manageable.

"You seem to be forgetting yourself entirely." You spat. "You're the boss, Sylus. You're the one our men look towards when we finally move. You're the one that we're supposed to follow and support so that we can continue to remind the world why we're at the top."

You hopped off the table, staggering when the gash in your leg reminded you why you were in this position to begin with as you braced yourself against the table. "You left us to fend for ourselves. Unfortunately, Mr. Qin, I don't exactly have the same overwhelming power that you have. Forgive me for not having an Evol that can regenerate my wounds and dissolve bullets when they're shot at me."

You dragged your gaze towards him once more, his expression cold as he watched you struggle to stay on your own two feet. Funny how months prior, he would have steadied you. Funny how a year prior, he would have sat you back down on the table and told you not to push yourself.

How times have truly changed.

"Isn't she a Hunter? A strong one at that? I could have sworn she won medals and awards and had articles written about how she was at the top of her profession." Your smile returned, but the bitterness inside you bled out through your eyes as you pushed yourself to take a step forward towards him. "You're telling me that a Hunter like that needs you to run to her aid any time there's a minor inconvenience?"

The air sizzled around you, red mist coiling around your body, making its way up to and around your neck as a pressure began to tighten around your windpipe.

You struck a nerve. Good.

Even if all the emotion was gone from his face, you could see the steel in his eyes as he took long, languid steps towards you until he was a step away. To him, you weren't a friend. To him, you weren't a partner.

To him, you were just a mouthy little wretch that was speaking far too much for your own good.

But you were not going to be intimidated. You were different from the others working beneath him. You didn't flinch. You didn't struggle. You held your ground, even if the floor beneath you was barely beneath your toes.

"You speak about things you know nothing about." His voice dropped an octave, his head tilted to the side slightly. "You not only forgot your place, but you seem to think you have any right to talk about my affairs with my Hunter."

You could feel the way the mist tightened around your neck, but you suppressed the grunt as you kept your eyes fixated on the man before you. The man that you used to look at with reverence and respect. The man that showed you what true power was and calculated every step flawlessly. This man was someone you were happy to spill blood for. A man who held ambitions befitting a god, monopolizing every aspect of the N109 Zone. A genius and a visionary.

And a man that you used to chastise when he got too carried away. A man that you shared meals with, laughing over the simple things in life and how you forget them when you're at the top. A man that you could have fallen in love with if the circumstances were different.

But the one you were looking at now, he wasn't the same.

If he thought you could handle yourself before, you would have taken on the responsibility with your head held high. You would have accepted the challenge posed to you because he trusted you to complete it with the same level of expectations he set himself with.

But this whole operation was doomed without him to begin with.

The plan was concocted with him at the forefront. You were supposed to support him. It wasn't just a recovery of stolen goods, but a full frontal assault that showed everyone why messing with Onychinus was the biggest mistake you could make. It was a statement. A reminder. A threat.

But he left in the midst of battle. He didn't even warn you, his figure disappearing in a red hazy mist that you only caught the end of before you were fighting for your life, dodging bullets and protecting what you could. You proved that without your leader, Onychinus wasn't the threat everyone believed it was. Without Sylus, the organization were a bunch of bums with high powered weapons that didn't know what to do with them.

It was a blow to your pride. A blow to the morale of your men.

And you watched as the man standing before you looked at you like none of it truly mattered to him. That this was all a game.

That was the most frustrating part of all of it.

"You told me that I could trust you," your voice was softer, the anger still present but muted as the air in your lungs became limited, "that you were someone who could carry the weight on your shoulders. Yet, all I saw was someone that was willing to sacrifice our lives, my life, like it was a means to an end."

Perhaps it was.

Sylus didn't flinch at your words. He didn't deny your claims. He didn't correct you and prove that he was still the same man you knew. He didn't even hesitate as he watched you with cold, calculating eyes.

"Everyone has their use; you are no different." Without warning, he released you as you fell to the ground, your hands bracing your fall as the blinding hot pain from your leg shot up throughout your nervous system. You stifled your agony, sucking in air as you grit your teeth to keep from voicing out your pain. "Disrespect her again and I will remind you permanently where your place truly is."

He didn't bother to wait for your response as he walked out of the room, leaving you alone to tend to the wound that opened up once more and bled through the bandages.

Everything you've endured was for nothing.

Every heartache and sleepless night was a waste.

You didn't expect love from him, but you deserved respect. Acknowledgement for your efforts and the time you spent building an empire of strength and power when he was still a nameless man on the street. Onychinus wasn't built overnight. It was through sheer effort, planning and time that created the empire that threatened to shake the foundations of the world.

He had the charisma, the money and the power to be someone that could rule the world. He simply needed support to get started. That's where you came in.

You had connections. You built trust with the right people that would soon be able to aid him. You knew the N109 Zone better than most and you had faith in him.

"You got this hungry look in your eyes." You stood over Sylus with a grin, peering down at him from the railing as he glanced up at you with a smirk. "You don't seem like an average denizen here in the Zone. You have ambitions, don't you?"

"You have a good eye, I'll give you that." Your grin widened, your chin propped up on your open palm as you leaned over more.

"Intimidation can only get you so far, mister. Eventually, someone will prove to you that they're not afraid of you or your power. That's why building connections and trust will carry you farther than what you've been trying to do. Making friends with those that won't bow down so easily is going to be your greatest asset." Sylus pushed himself off his bike and made his way up the steps to where you stood.

"You seem to know a lot about what I need." You puffed your chest out, your head held high.

"You got ambitions and so do I. You have the manpower, single-handedly from what I can see, and I have the connections that may aid you. I know who to trust and I know which hornet's nest to shake to get your messages across. Soon, everyone will know your name." You both stood in front of each other, hungry for something greater than this life provided.

"How are you so sure I'll even be able to live up to these impossible expectations you've set out?" You extended your hand out, undeterred and full of confidence.

"I got a good sense of these things and I know that you're not someone that is content with less than you deserve." Sylus laughed, his hand reaching for yours as you sealed the deal.

"Good eye."

You sat on the ground, uncomfortable and defeated by something you had no foresight to. Something written in the cosmos where no one but he and her were privy to. All the wasted effort. All the time counting the days where you could finally rest comfortably and enjoy the remainder of your life in luxury was all crumbling around you into remnants of misplaced trust.

It was clear as day now more than ever that he had a goal in mind and it wasn't just unmatched power. It was for her. All of this was to provide for her everything so she could never want for more. And if she did ever want more, then he could easily grant it to her.

It would have been easier to calculate your loss if you had known. You thought that everything you both went through, all the time getting to know one another and trusting the other would allow him to shed light on his true goals for why he was doing this. But the longer you sat there on the floor, the chill of the med bay coiling around you as you stared at the floor with empty eyes and racing thoughts, you realized you had nothing.

You were disposable.

You were a tool.

And Onychinus belonged to him and her, not you.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who expected you to be upset that he was ending the relationship to focus on his work when MC became his patient, but was surprised that you were far more disappointed in not having the "nastiest sex you've ever had" anymore.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who knew you were a bit on the promiscuous side — the life of those in the medical field were always hectic and busy that pent up sexual desires run rampant among the doctors and nurses — but he didn't expect you to bounce back so quickly from the break-up.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who believes he's just trying to adjust back to his new normal after living in the more impulsive way you lived your life — night life, drinks, dancing and writing the outline of your thesis the next morning with smudged lipstick and more caffeine that teeters on the edge of stimulants — and has to avoid the impulses to brush his fingers against you when you pass by.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who throws himself into his work and hobbies, even going as far as to spend more time with MC because he thought his feelings for her were still romantic, but realizes that the way you burrowed in his life had him craving the way you just imposed on his personal space so easily.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who visits your office a few times a month and tries not to feel too embarrassed by the clear enjoyment you're getting whenever you see him lingering around, not at all pretending to believe the excuses he tries to give you, as you tease him mercilessly.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who lets you drag him for a night like old times, just as friends of course, and tries his best not to give into the temptations that you clearly were tormenting him with to pull you close and kiss you the way he was desperate for.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who loses a bit of his self-control when you both run into a tech nurse you had been intimate with — said nurse having the audacity to ask you to spend time with him after you were done with your hangout — by hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you close and saying you were spending the entire night with him.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who goes over to your place for a drink (non-alcoholic for him) and dances with you in the comfort of your living room, knowing that your penchant for flirtatious touches as you grind yourself against him was your signal that you wanted much more intimacy than just a dance.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who takes his time teasing you through the beat of the song, lips caressing your neck, hands sliding down your sides and dipping beneath your dress as you grind your ass against the growing problem in his pants.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who lets you take the lead, every kiss a searing and every careful roll of your hips that left him breathless, as you take things to the next level by insisting he let his inhibitions go for a night and offering him a drink.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who learns that alcohol affects him in ways he wasn't familiar with, because when you poured the wine in your mouth and made him drink, the effects of it was near instant because he was ravaging your mouth and teasing your pussy through your panties.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who struggles to take his time with you now that the alcohol is in his system, your dirty talk whispered in his ear doing him no favors with every article of clothing pushed up or to the side as he fingers you in the same rhythm that had you seeing stars so many times before, his mouth sucking and biting your collarbones and the tops of your breasts.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who can't wait any longer as he pushes you on your back, settling between your legs while you hurriedly take off his shirt as he works his pants down far enough to line his cock at your entrance, hesitating only for a moment to confirm you were not only on a safe day, you were also on birth control, before sheathing his cock inside you.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who fucks you with unrestrained ferocity, bouncing you up and down the sofa as you moan out the filthiest things that you want to do tonight — from using his Evol for temperature play, 69 oral, shower sex because it's him and more — that fuels him to angle your hips so get can hit it deeper with every thrust.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who has you in so many different positions in so many different areas of your apartment, he felt like he was claiming your home with his memory now that you wouldn't be able to walk around your place without thinking of him.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who damn near forgot how kinky you were, because now he was indulging in some of the things that you had claimed you missed doing with him and grateful that his sex drive could match yours.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who doesn't slip out while you both rest on your bed, spooned together with his arms secured around your torso and his face buried in your neck, you laughing breathlessly that if he missed the sex so bad he could've just said something.

Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who doesn't quite correct you but adds that he actually just missed you and he made a mistake when he ended things, knowing now that you bring a certain enjoyment in his life that wasn't just about fucking you silly.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who convinces himself that he didn't feel a thing using you as a safe haven during the harsh months after the attempt on his life that changed his life for the worse, despite the way you shatter before him.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who tells himself that your passive aggressive comments while working beneath him doesn't affect him in the slightest, even if you barely glance at his direction and focus your attention on a lieutenant whenever he was around.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who knows that the furthest he's ever gone with you sexually was a heated make-out session and groping over clothes, but starts to feel something stirring within him when he sees you openly flirt with another man just to piss him off.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who thinks when MC reappears in his life, that he'd actually be able to breathe again for the first time, only to find himself tortured with thoughts about you and what you're doing with the guy that he saw stick his tongue down your throat.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who knows he's abusing his power to keep you under his supervision and away from that lieutenant that you seem to have a fondness for, but feels little remorse when he sees the way you focus your frustration to him by mouthing off to him and choosing to be a brat.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who can't help but compare how bratty MC can get versus how bratty you were being, when you have never shown that side of you before, and finding himself far more attracted to the idea of enabling your behavior just to punish you that much more.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who lets you neglect your work, sass him, flirt openly with others and even disobey direct orders, all with a charming smile that he knows makes you feel suspicious the longer he allows it.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who lets you get a little too comfortable in thinking you have the upper hand, letting you get bolder as you start to invade his personal space before he strikes, using his Evol to subdue you.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who mocks you as you try to argue with him that he should let you go, but when he mentions that you've been such a brat and need to be taught manners, he notices every little detail of the way your body reacts — flushed cheeks, breathless pants and shiver running throughout your body.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who tells you if you really want him to stop, he'd give you an out after you accept your punishment for all the bratty behavior you accumulated over the past few weeks, your body bent over his desk as he slowly palms your ass cheek through your uniform pants.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who smiles when you accept, pants and panties pooled around your ankles as he begins to spank you, demanding you to count every strike — correcting your behavior one grievance at a time.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who can't help but get aroused at the way you stutter and whine, cheeks hot, arms pinned to the table by his gravity, as you squirm from the loud, wet slaps of his hand connecting to your flesh and making the sting linger on your skin.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who watches you cum from getting spanked, drool on the table, tears in your eyes, as your slick coats your inner thighs so beautifully, he nearly folds just to have a taste of you instead of making you realize that your brattiness will always have consequences to the Colonel.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who has you on your knees, eyes gleaming up at him in obedience when he asks you if you think you deserve to have his cock after you disobediently came from his punishments, making you pleasure him to earn the right to cum from his dick.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who never had a single shred of experience with sex, save the occasional masturbation sessions that he swore was only for MC, try his damndest to not immediately shoot his load when you put your mouth on him, tongue swirling the tip with an expertise that made his jealousy burn a little while your hands stroked his shaft.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who avoids making a fool out of himself by teasing you and delaying his orgasm by pulling back your hair, tracing his cock on your lips and breathlessly mocking you looking so needy — ignoring the way your eyes seem to see right through him when you see how hard his cock is twitching.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who loses either way when you start regaining some of your bratty attitude and shoves his cock in your mouth, slowly fucking it with a shudder down his spine, your hot tongue drags along the underside of his shaft.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who fails miserably at avoiding the orgasm that he was trying to keep at bay, his inexperience and lack of foresight not preparing him from the way your mouth could feel sucking on the sensitive flesh as he shoots his load into the back of your throat.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who may have gotten just a little petty and uses his Evol to place you back on the table, locking you in place under the claim that you were misbehaving, so you lost the right to feel his cock stretch you out and now has to settle with him fucking your slick thighs instead.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who loses himself fucking your thighs, the warmth of your cunt on the top of his cock, your ass clapping with his thrusts and the way you're whining out beautifully for him drives him absolutely wild.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who can get addicted to this, fully understanding now why some of the guys during his days in the DAA were always talking about needing some companionship, because the way he was feeling just feeling your pussy against him was enough to get him hooked.

Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who cums between your thighs, his body hovering over yours while he tells you that if you choose to behave, he may show a little mercy next time and fuck you the way you want to be fucked.

"She's the only one that ever understood the real me."

Funny how that's the first thing that springs to your mind as your boyfriend tells you that he's having issues with his vision. Like a sudden knife between your ribs as you try not to let your face show how shocked and hurt you're feeling. It's not about you. It's not important. It was something he told you when you were friends and he had been hung up on a woman that he was desperately in love with. You hadn't even developed feelings for him then.

But it haunts you.

He didn't tell you.

You only realized it when he was struggling to distinguish between the animal figurines on the shelf, his hands guiding him through every bump and ridge as he pretended he was fully aware of the world around him. You only noticed when you picked one up and said the wrong name on accident, him nodding along enthusiastically before you caught your slip.

It wasn't the first time he had issues with his sight. He'd told you about it in the past, when he was still hung up on the only tether that kept his depression from fully consuming him.

"It isn't all bad. You look gorgeous in this lighting."

You swallowed your feelings down and simply helped him through the moments where the blinding light made it harder for him. You took his hand and guided him carefully through the streets as you took in the views. You hand fed him mostly out of love but partly to keep your own bitter feelings at bay, finding some comfort in the way he soaked up your attention like he couldn't live without it.

You hated the feelings of helplessness. You hated thinking about what she could do if she was there. If she really knew him better than anyone else, would he have been better off? It wasn't just frustrating that you were thinking this way, it was downright disgusting that you were standing in the way of your own happiness over the past version of him that poured his yearning into the pieces he painted with her in mind.

"I know you're worried about me, but I promise you that I'm alright. It's not a big deal and the resort manager said it's just a side effect from the hot springs. It'll go away soon." Even if that was the case, it didn't really ease up the feelings festering in the back of your mind.

But the way he smiled at you, leaning into you and whispering his adoration into your skin as he pulled you close to him was enough to try and focus on the rest of the trip. The warmth of his hands and rhythmic thudding of his heart against your ear was enough to soothe your feelings. He was here with you to have a nice vacation and get some pigments.

The rest can be dealt with later.

But when later eventually came in the form of a painting, you couldn't take the time to truly admire the beauty.

You stood before a portrait of yourself bathed in an array of golden hues, the feelings of inadequacy reared its ugly head once more. Memories of watching him pace around the classroom to talk about her as you stayed late to work on some sketches he assigned the class to do. The times he let his jealousy show itself to you as he complained over lunch that she was getting closer to some guy he didn't really know the name of.

"You don't understand. He's so possessive over her and he's completely restrictive."

"And this is her adopted brother or is this the guy that works with her at the Association? And, by the way, saying he's possessive seems a tad ironic considering you're her stalker."

"First thing we're getting out of the way is that I am not her 'stalker'. I just so happen to know things because I pay attention to the world around me. I'm an artist after all, I pick up on the small details no one else pays attention to. Stop snickering, it's really rude. Secondly, it's that pathetic mess of a guy that refuses to wear grown up clothes."

"Right, right. Whatever you say, Professor Rafayel."

"Ugh, I know you're my student but that's just rude to call me that outside of school. Besides, if I'm being honest, I just think she'd be better off with me. I'm clearly the better option. We're destined to be together."

And you believed it at the time. You honestly thought he was able to really let his feelings reach her and touch the part of her heart that could return his devotion and love.

But you remember so clearly how he called you in the dead of night, partially drunk on whatever liquor he was drinking, voice hoarse and devoid of his usual charm.

"I had to let her go." Were the first words out of his mouth when you answered.

You didn't really know what to say at the time, uncertain how to comfort someone who was hurting in a way you didn't understand at the time. So you said the only thing that made sense at the time. "Where are you?"

And after a lengthy taxi ride to a rest area for campers, you found him parked near a cliff side that had a beautiful view of the ocean. He was resting on the hood of his car, arm slung over his eyes and looking more disheveled than you had ever seen him when you approached him.

"What do you need?" You leaned over the hood next to him, looking out at the ocean as he sniffled a few times.

"A friend." You stayed with him the entire night. You endured the chill of the night air biting at your cheeks and freezing your fingers. You listened to the restraint of his sorrow and committed it to memory. You didn't look at his pain. You didn't comment on his despair. You didn't judge his way of coping through his broken heart.

When the sun's rays finally began to pierce through the night sky and he began to move beside you did you finally look at him. You noticed his puffy eyes. You noticed the way his lower lip quivered ever so slightly. You saw the despair in his eyes as he looked at you with such vulnerability, your first instinct was to cup his face in your hand and gently pull him into a warm embrace.

"It'll be alright. I'll stay with you until you're okay."

You meant it that day. You stayed by his side. You stayed until you fell in love with him. When he returned your love, you had been over the moon. You believed him. You really did.

But now? After that trip? After staring at the portrait of his love and devotion right in front of your face did you start to feel the anxiety of not being the one he wanted. For the first time, you actually began to doubt if he loved you because he truly felt love for you or if you had simply been the logical choice.

You had seen him at his most vulnerable state and yet he still hid a part of himself from you. He hid parts of his life from you when he went off on little excursions that he didn't need you to tag along with. He hid something from you when he isolated himself for a night or two every year, telling you not to worry despite how uncomfortable he sounded over the phone.

Did you understand him? Did you ever see the real him?

You wanted to smile. You were desperate to put on a brave face and smile so big and wide that it'd hurt your cheeks. You wanted to say how sweet and touching it was that he painted you. You wanted to cup his face and squish it and kiss it and just... You didn't want to cry.

You didn't.

But you couldn't help it as the tears spilled out before you could stop yourself. You choked out a sob, your hand covering your mouth to try and stifle the rest as the anxiety you weren't aware of suddenly burst forth. You were hurting over something you didn't even consider before.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?" The world was spinning around you as you sobbed, unable to get the words out as you cried, your hands clutching his shirt so tight that it might just tear. All you could think about was every confession he shared with you about her. All you could think about was the late night messages about how he needed a distraction because he was going crazy thinking about her.

All you could think about was the night on the hood of his car, listening to him break beside you because he was willing to let her go to someone else.

None of the good memories could overpower the anxiety of being the second option. Not the way he reached for your hand to calm his nerves at events. Not the way he pulled you closer to him when someone tried to hit on you. Not the way he looked at you with pure devotion in his eyes, like you were the only person in this world that ever truly mattered.

You sobbed into his chest, his arms tight around you as he whispered something into your hair. He held you there, comforting you until you could finally settle down long enough to hear what he was saying over the sniffles and the fierce beating of his heart beneath your ear.

"I love you. I love you so much. Please... I love you. Don't leave me. Don't leave. I won't survive without you, my muse. My love. My life."

You shut your eyes, clinging to him tightly and found comfort in his warmth. "I'm not leaving. 'm sorry I made you worry."

"Worried would be an understatement." He laughed hoarsely, clinging to you tighter somehow. "I've never seen you cry like that so every bad thought went through my mind."

You nuzzled into his chest, chuckling weakly. "Every bad feeling I never knew I had went through mine. That's why I cried."

"Well, guess we'll stay like this until we're both okay."

"Heh, that might take all night."

"Might as well get comfortable right here on the floor then. Because I'm not going anywhere."

You had time to talk through your feelings another time. You had time to really get into the crux of your own anxiety and self-doubt. So long as he was here, holding you in his arms, it could wait until you were both okay.

One that has been in my head was a Non-MC styled fake marriage!au with Caleb. (AFAB!reader btw sorry)