there's something about the way Caleb stares at you. it's not invasive, or predatory, or sharp in the way people expect colonel Caleb to be, its's almost cataloguing. he watches when you run your fingers over that fabric you really like--something about the softness and the way it doesn't irritate your skin. then he analyses the way your breath hitches every time he flicks his tongue just the right way.
feeling his gaze on you isn't that burning, hair-raising sensation you get when a few leering stares are passed your way. they're softer, taking you in with the care of a man who has all the time in the world to love and appreciate you.
sometimes it's almost like Caleb knows you better than you know yourself. whenever you don't know what to eat, torn between one fast food place and another, he seems to pick the best option, or both so he can satisfy all of your cravings. the one thing Caleb wants to do is make you happy, and he knows just how to do that.
buying everything you've stopped to linger by in stores, he pretends not to notice the way you try to convince yourself that you don't need it, just to see you smile when he gifts it to you the next day. you say it's overconsumption, he doesn't do anything but smile, the same one whenever he lets you win because seeing you triumphant having the last word means more to him than arguing otherwise. because at the end of the day, you'll still get those clothes you looked at for a beat too long.
Caleb is a sucker and he's happy where he is.
