he watches you mimic his pattern of breathing and grins in response. you always blindly followed his instructions—that trust and vulnerability of yours is something he adores and wishes to keep that way. his large hand settles on the back of your head to pat your hair soothingly.

you slowly come down from your high and limply rest your head against his hard pecs.

“you did so well, i’m really proud of you,” caleb pinches your cheek like he always does, making you huff and stick your tongue out at him playfully.

your boyfriend chuckles before doing the same thing again. he can’t help it; you’re too adorable for your own good.

you shake your head and nuzzle your face into his chest. “mmmh, hurts,” you whine as you try to move your body. your hips are already sore from exertion and they ache whenever you try to move them an inch.

caleb’s eyes darken at your little whine. “hurts? where?”

he cups your face immediately to tilt your head, your eyes locking. you’re a bit taken aback by the sudden change in his tone—from laid back to concerned and protective in a split second.

“ah, no, my hips are just a bit sore. nothing out of the ordinary,” you quickly reassure your lover. you know how overprotective caleb gets, and if he had accidentally hurt you in any way, he’ll feel extremely guilty for the rest of the day.

caleb’s frown slowly disappears, but the concern still lingers in his softening eyes. he sighs in relief and a small smile tugs at his lips.

“i’m sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you,” he croons with a breathy chuckle following right after.

his large hands, warm and callused from all that he experienced, settle on your bare hips to massage them. you hum in relief and your eyes close to enjoy the warmth spreading through your tired body.

a loud ringtone suddenly cuts through the lingering tension between you two, snapping you out of your daze. caleb faintly clicks his tongue before turning his head towards his nightstand. he grabs his phone with one hand to check the caller’s id.

the brown-haired man beneath you tenses up. you can feel it almost immediately. his other hand stops massaging your hip for a second before it continues, this time more slowly. caleb’s gaze is cold and his jaw is clenched as he tries to figure out what to do.

“not gonna pick up?” you ask curiously as you lift your head from his chest. caleb quickly tosses his phone away after pressing the red decline button. he shakes his head and that charming smile of his quickly returns to his face.

“nu-uh. no one’s more important than you,” caleb grins and boops your nose.

it’s an attempt to distract you so you wouldn’t ask any more questions about the possible caller. and it seems to work, considering you laid your head back on his bare chest, snuggling up to his bare body beneath the crumpled sheets.

you breathe in his musk and can’t help but love it. the faint traces of his cologne mixed with the scent of his body—it’s a heady combination. caleb seems to do the same, his nose buried into the strands of your hair, breathing you in. you smell like home and he loves it, lives for it really.

eventually, you decide it’s time to detangle yourself from your lover. as much as you want to keep him inside and beneath of you, you need to clean up and go to the bathroom.

caleb hisses when you try to roll over and change positions which had caused you to instinctively clench around him. he tightens his muscular arms around your waist to keep you squished on top of him, refusing to let you move.

“stay like this for a little while more, yeah? i promise i’ll let you go in a bit,” caleb whispers in your ear before his tongue teasingly licks at your lobe.

he smirks against your skin and you can feel it. you know it’s a lie—he will not let you go for the rest of the night. hell, he might even be ready to go another round.

even if he technically has to leave to take care of all kinds of things. things that will keep you safe and out of harm’s way.

anyway, caleb will deal with the consequences of skipping his duty later. for now he’ll settle to cherish this serene moment with his beloved, before reality comes crashing down again.

You got...expired Skittles. Yikes. Looks like it would've been good had you made it on time. But you didn't. Now you just watch it waste away.

Xavier was out again. By this point, the amount of missions he’d taken had all begun to blur together. He couldn’t remember the last time he checked in with you, but he didn’t want you to hear the tiredness in his voice, didn’t want you to see the bruised and battered parts of him, so he vowed not to contact you until he was sure his appearance would leave you with nothing to worry about. He was sure it’d be fine. He’d been gone longer than this before. You were always there, waiting for him to return, even if you did have a lecture at the ready. He was just happy to hear your voice again whenever he returned, despite how much you’d scold him. He’d make sure to finish up soon so he could come back home to you. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself before he accepted yet another “dangerous mission that only Xavier can handle.” 

Some, small part of him probably knew that someone else could handle it. He worked with highly capable individuals; even if they weren’t nearly as capable as him (or even half as capable), they could still get the job done if need be. But he was already in the field. And he was the fastest in the field, the strongest in the field, the smartest in the field. Maybe others could handle it, but he could handle it better. He could make sure no lives were lost, make sure no damage was done. He could do it all. So he said yes to this, yes to that, and continued to make false promises to himself that he would see you soon.

When he finally stumbled home, exhausted and barely conscious, you weren’t there waiting. You weren’t anywhere. He shrugged it off, thinking maybe you were on a mission this time. He knocked out shortly after.

He slept for three days and woke up to 300 missed texts and calls.

Fuck’s sake. What had he missed? It had only been three days. It better not have been Jeremiah spamming his phone, or they’d have to have words… He opened his phone to discover texts and calls from all his friends and coworkers spanning the last week. He knew he’d been knee deep in a mission, and had a tendency to get short sighted when it came to them, but he couldn’t believe he’d completely cut off contact from anyone for an entire week. He scrolled through his notifications wondering what on this Earth or the next was so damn important that they had to blow up his notifications. 

And then he dropped his phone when he finally saw why. 

Even blistered and bleeding, he should’ve known not to rest when he got home to find you missing. He should’ve known it wouldn’t just ‘be okay’ to disappear for as long as he did. You worked in a job that was just as dangerous as him, and you’d had significantly less experience fighting wanderers than he did. What was he THINKING, leaving you alone for so long? You were his mission partner. And he just abandoned you. 

He ran to the hospital in his pajamas. 

You’d already been bedridden for at least a week; he hoped that meant you had the time to heal while he was off playing hero. He hoped that meant he would find you joking and laughing with the doctor, waving to you once he burst through the doors (before remembering you were supposed to be mad at him for disappearing for so long, and ultimately, giving him the lecture of a lifetime to which he would listen to gratefully). He hoped that he wouldn’t stumble upon a sight that would make his heart stop.

He hoped and he hoped and he hoped.

And maybe, the problem with hoping, was that you only had so many wishes before your luck ran out. And his karma had completely drained the bank on luck. 

He got to the hospital just in time to hear the doctor utter the word “coma” and then he fell to his knees. 

Why was he just remembering now how cold you got when he wasn’t around to hold you? How you’d nearly broken your apartment’s thermostat trying to command it to provide you with some heat. He should’ve been around to keep you warm.

Why was he just remembering now how your favorite restaurant always served portions that were much too big, that went bad much too fast? He should’ve been there to split the meals with you. Had you been starving yourself ordering from places that didn’t serve nearly enough? He should’ve made sure you were taken care of. 

Why was he just remembering now that he couldn’t survive without your smile? That he could be nearly on his way to Heaven, bleeding half his organs dry, and your smile would bring him back down to Earth, your smile would light up even the darkest corners of Purgatory. And now he didn’t have it.

Why was he just remembering now that you always gave the best kisses? That you kissed him goodbye, that you kissed him good morning, that you kissed him because you were happy, that you kissed him even when you were sad, that you kissed away his worries, that you kissed away his senses. And now you couldn’t kiss him at all. 

You got.... an empty candy wrapper. Huh. It looked like it would've been sweet. That is, if you'd actually gotten the candy that was meant to be there. Too bad you just got a handful of nothing. Maybe there's another world out there where another you got the candy they deserved. (This is an au where Dawnbreaker has you and Zayne does not)

Zayne was seeing them again. The other version of himself. You.

A couple nights ago, you were scolding the other him for having the TV on too loud. Zayne felt the TV was fine. The noise was so minute, he barely registered it being in his dream at all. But there you were, a fake frown on your face, pointedly declaring that this other version of him had been watching TV much too loudly for you to simply ignore and that, henceforth, you would need to investigate what exactly it was that he was watching “much too loudly.” It wasn’t until you were curled up in his lap, tugging his arms around you, resting your back against his chest, murmuring, “Why’d you start the episode without me, baby?” that Zayne realized it had always been your intention to stay by the man’s side. You were merely trying to find an excuse to worm your way into his embrace. If you had asked Zayne to hold you, he would’ve in a heartbeat. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. So he could understand why the other version of him submitted to your demands without a fuss, and why, shortly afterwards, he moved to rest his head on your shoulder, his lips painting a loving path down the side of your neck. And he could understand why, when you began to laugh at how much the kisses tickled, when you began to scold him playfully, telling him to pay attention to the show, blushing all the while and pulling his arms around you tighter, this other version of him simply smiled like he held the world in his hands, because he did. 

And when another call from the hospital ripped Zayne from his sleep, and he awoke yet again to the sight of his empty bed, his arms reaching out for you only to find you were not there, the warmth in his chest began to fade, his smile sinking back into solemnity. He walked around his empty apartment, brushed his teeth with an empty heart, and went to work on an empty stomach. His life was what most people dreamed of having; he had a high paying job, a luxurious place of living, and colleagues who admired him. He should’ve wanted for nothing. And he wouldn’t have wanted for anything, had he not dreamt of you. 

Tonight, he dreamt of you and the other him again, though this dream was such a stark contrast to what he’d dreamt before that he almost doubted if he was really seeing the same people. 

Tonight, you were dirt-streaked and blood-streaked, bruised and battered, clothes torn and tattered. Two guns propped themselves up in your trembling hands, two bandages already lined your arms. How long you’d been shooting, he wasn’t sure. His doctor’s hands moved almost instinctively, impatient to treat your injuries, but the other version of him was already at your side, applying a third bandage. 

“My turn.” After he’d patched you up, you returned the favor, shooting him a smile (sincere though tired) to ease the pain as you wound gauze around his abrasions. 

He pulled you behind him suddenly, “Watch your back-“ He declared before throwing his hands out, ice bursting from his palms. Another wanderer met its doom. 

”My hero,” you winked.

A smirk tugged at his lips and he pulled you close. “Does this hero receive any compensation for his heroic deeds?” 

“He deserves all the compensation in the world.” And then you kissed him like the world was ending, and perhaps, knowing the world you were from, it was, but in that moment, Zayne felt the core of his world quaking, felt the grounds of his world splitting open, felt the magma of his world swallowing him whole.

Because, sometimes he forgot what a devastating world you lived in, what a devastating world the other version of him lived in. Sometimes he forgot that he lived in a world where miracles still happened, where good still prevailed. But most times, he found himself incredibly envious of this other him, and most times, he hated himself for it. You were fighting to survive and had gotten lucky enough to find someone to survive with, someone to survive for. He lived in a world where resources were still bountiful, where illnesses were still treatable, and he had the audacity to wish for more, to wish for you, to wish he could reach across the chasm that separated the two of you and close the space. Any sane person would’ve been grateful to live in a world such as his. He hated how ungrateful he was. He hated how trivial his desires were and how he continued to desire them all the same, even knowing that. Even knowing that he barely knew you and still he wanted you. Still, he wished he could, instead, be the one at your side, bandaging your wounds, and telling you to watch your back. 

If you had existed on this plane, in his world, in you lived in Linkon City with him, what would that have been like? Would you have shared sweets together? Watched the fireworks together? Made snowmen together? Would you have looked at him like he was your whole world? Would he have had the guts to tell you that you were his? Would he even deserve you? 

Maybe he never did.

Maybe that was why some god somewhere out there deemed him unfit to be by your side. 

Maybe he would continue to watch you for the rest of his life because that was all he deserved.