#mc caleb

summary: caleb wakes up after making love with her for the time, remembering all that happened the night before.

tags: first time, dorks in love, trauma, childhood, separation anxiety, caleb can finally have her,

words count: 2,354k

ao3 link 🔗

The night after making love with her for the first time, Caleb slept.

A peaceful sleep, one he hadn't experienced in a long time, so that he had almost forgotten what it felt like.

Maybe that presence beside him, the one he could still feel in his arms, had managed to shut the door to his nightmares, even if only for that one night.

It was morning when Caleb opened his eyes. The light in the room was dim, the shutters almost completely drawn.

A faint breeze slipped in through the half-open window, sending a slight shiver across his skin.

His body instinctively moved in search of the only source of warmth under the covers, pulling the figure next to him closer.

He pressed his naked body against hers, and the warmth she radiated instantly enveloped him.

She was soft, delicate, and small in his arms, as she had always been.

But now, it all carried a different meaning.

His violet eyes rested on her, taking in how perfectly she was nestled against him, her head resting between his arm and his chest, her hair spread out like a halo on the pillow, her arm wrapped around his waist, her hand on his back—where he could still feel the tingling left by her nails the night before.

Ah, the night before.

He still almost couldn’t process it. He had to blink several times to be sure he wasn’t having one of his usual fantasies, the ones that had cradled him in his loneliness and frustration, or one of his disappointing dreams.

She was truly there, in his arms.

Solid, true, real.

And the night before had been real too.

The glances they had sought, the way their fingers brushed as if asking permission.

The unspoken request for something more—that long-suppressed need, which no chains could have held back any longer.

Her hand resting on his cheek, an invitation, permission to finally let go, to send all those fears to hell.

The kiss had been awkward, almost clumsy at first, perhaps because it had caught him a little off guard.

“…your lips are dry.”

She had said it softly after that brief contact, brushing them with her thumb while her eyes searched his.

“I had no one to remind me to take care of them, this past year.”

Caleb had smiled as he spoke those words, but it was a bittersweet smile, a broken one, revealing the pain behind them—the distance and forced absence between them over the past year.

“Then I’ll make up for all the times we lost.”

She cupped his cheek tenderly in her hands, leaning in to gently place her lips on the corner of his once again.

The warmth emanating from the contact was something familiar yet at the same time new, something they both had longed to experience for so long.

He turned his head so that his lips could meet hers, a gentle touch, as if still on his tiptoes, asking if it was right to go on.

Then, he placed his hand on the curve of her back, pulling her closer to him, while the other slowly slid up, gently cradling her head.

She pressed her body even closer against his, as if trying to merge their figures into one.

“Don’t leave again.”

She whispered against his lips, a plea filled with need, and with the pain she had already endured when he had vanished from her life the first time.

“Promise me you won’t leave me again.”

Her words, broken and trembling, made his chest ache with the memory of everything that had happened.

The heated tones, the argument they were having before he stepped into the house.

Then the explosion.

In that fraction of a second, his only thought was to protect her, using his Evol to hold back the blast.

Then darkness, pain, the sound of medical machines, injections, more pain...then nothing.

A new life, after years of fragile happiness in that bubble in Linkon, he was back to being nothing more than a lab rat, a puppet.

Far from her.

Not knowing how she was, unable to hear her voice anymore, to hear her laugh when he said something stupid just to make her smile.

The nights spent building models, staying at the swing in the park near home just to talk, cooking for her, becoming strong for her, living for her.

All of it had ended in an infinitesimal fraction, and he was left alone, within those bare, lifeless walls of Skyhaven.

He couldn’t even call it home, because his true one was miles below his feet, beneath the shroud of clouds.

But now she was there, once again in his arms, her eyes searching for his, asking him with a trembling voice not to leave her again.

He pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply her essence, which smelled of home, comfort, and peace.

“I won’t.”

“Don’t give me empty promises, Caleb.”

“I promise you, I won’t.”

His lips pressed a delicate kiss on her neck, nibbling gently, just enough to leave a faint mark, as if to seal his promise.

He lifted his face, caressing hers as he looked at her, a melancholy gaze heavy with remorse for all that had happened despite himself, and something deeper hidden in his eyes—violet wells where he buried all his secrets and fears, but not what he felt for her.

Not anymore.

He couldn’t hide it.

Their feelings lay bare for both of them, a night of no return, all the cards on the table, and all they had to do now was play.

Their mouths met again, urgency surging from years of suppressed emotions, fears, because of their bond, everything.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, as if to prevent him from slipping away from her once more.

It seemed as though they had forgotten how to breathe, their lips meeting again and again, almost without pauses, afraid to shatter the fragile magic of that moment.

They retreated until they reached his bed, falling onto the mattress, but that did not stop the dance of their joined breaths, which continued undeterred.

Only after endless minutes did they pause to catch their breath, their eyes locking.

In their gazes the same desire was written, the same need—that intimate, primal yet tender longing that finally demanded fulfillment.

Her fingers went to the buttons of her own shirt, but at the sight he swallowed and almost instinctively stopped her.

“Wait…”

“Why…?”

“Us. This changes everything, you don’t have to if—”

“Caleb.”

“Really, you don’t. I… I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“I want to, Caleb. I want it. As much as you do.”

His eyes widened slightly, locking on hers, before lowering again with an air of guilt.

“I don’t want you to regret anything. I don’t want to be a… monster. Or make you feel anything like that.”

After a moment of silence, she smiled gently and caressed his cheek, trying to bring him back to reality.

“The only thing I’d regret is pretending again I don't want this. I don’t want to anymore.”

“This changes things.”

“Don’t you want things to change?”

He did.

God, he did.

He wanted it more than anything.

He had always been protective, like an older brother, a constant in her life, her safe harbor.

But that wasn’t enough anymore.

He wanted a place in her heart different from before, that title now chafed like a muzzle, keeping him from saying and doing what he truly felt.

“…I do. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Then stop talking. You’re even more attractive when you’re silent.”

Grateful for the distraction, he chuckled softly, as if forgetting for a moment all the anxieties that stood like walls between him and what he desired.

What they both desired.

His fingers replaced hers, unbuttoning her shirt gently, his heartbeat growing stronger with every inch of skin revealed.

His fingertips caressed her shoulders as he slid off the garment, leaving her in a red cotton bra.

A pink flush spread over his face, freckles more pronounced as he nervously lowered his gaze.

She smiled, though her own heart threatened to escape her ribcage, and helped him shed his clothes in turn.

It was happening—it was really happening.

Their clothes fell one by one to the floor, soft thuds marking each, until only a few barriers remained between them.

For a moment they didn’t speak, as if unsure how to proceed now that the wall had been crossed.

Then, she slipped her fingers between his chest and necklace, pulling him toward her.

With a startled gasp, he fell forward, making her fall back onto the mattress beneath him, his hands braced on either side.

The only sound in the room was the pounding rhythm of their hearts, deafening in their ears.

Swallowing silently, he let his hand rest on her side, feeling the softness as his thumb stroked her gently.

She took it, guiding it behind her, so he could free her of the last barrier between them.

Yet apparently, his fingers, skilled in fixing things and piloting, lacked experience in unhooking a bra clasp.

Despite a few attempts, nothing budged, and with a nervous laugh he hid his face in the crook of her neck.

“I wonder if the person who designed this did it on purpose so no man could ever manage. Is it like some kind of clasp-shaped Excalibur?”

She laughed at his muffled voice against her skin, and gently reached back to help him.

“Must have been someone either diabolical or with a wicked sense of humor about guys’ embarrassment.”

“Seems the same to me.”

Once undone, nothing remained between them, only two young souls, literally laid bare, along with their desires.

He tentatively caressed her cheek, trying to avert his gaze.

“Caleb.”

“What is it?”

“Look at me.”

His eyes rose again, taking her in completely.

She was beautiful.

She had always been beautiful.

Her hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her face, partially veiling her chest.

Her skin was soft, lightly tanned in places, scattered with tiny moles like stars in the night sky.

He wanted to say so much, as always, yet in that moment his voice seemed to die in his throat, overwhelmed by everything he felt.

“I don’t know what to say.”

He admitted simply, still gazing at her like one would admire a precious relic just unearthed.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“There’s always a first time.”

“There is.”

“What?”

“A...first time.”

He had known it in his heart, but hearing her confirm it made his chest lurch.

“You usually learned doing things before me—riding a bike, school, soccer, board games… is it like that this time too?”

Her innocent question, laced with old memories, meant more than that.

He shook his head with a smile, leaning closer, caressing her face.

“No. This time we’re at the same pace, side by side. From now on we can experience so many firsts together… if you truly want them with me.”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

Caleb gently laid her back down onto the mattress, his tall frame above her.

“Then, when this night is over… will you stay with me?”

“Always, Caleb.”

That night, two finally became one.

After years, it all came down to that room, where time seemed to flow both achingly slow and impossibly fast, measured only by the rhythm of their bodies and sighs.

A rediscovery of each other, but also the discovery of new things, a new beginning made of whispered promises, lips against lips, body against body.

Her nails traced his back, leaving delightfully painful marks.

His left hand mapped everything it could, trying to memorize her warmth, her curves, the softness of her skin.

She took his right hand too, feeling the weight of the metal beneath the synthetic skin, and brought it onto herself.

“Use them both. If one day you'll feel warmth again, I want you to remember this night too. I want every part of you.”

His heart clenched at her words, but he did as she asked.

He couldn’t feel her—metal was only a foreign body now—but if it was her wish that he be there with all of himself, modified parts and all, he would do it without hesitation.

For her.

When it was over, he held her tightly in his arms, their bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, their breaths slowly returning to normal.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, his arm holding her close, clinging and buried into each other, desperate to hold onto the moment, hoping it was neither dream nor illusion.

They would never be apart again.

They would never be separated again.

Like gravity keeping the Sun and the Earth in each other’s orbit.

She was still sleeping in his arms, lips slightly parted, her breathing calm.

He smiled, remembering how he used to watch her sleep years ago, in much less graceful poses, mouth wide open, clutching her pillow.

But now she was here, in his arms, a woman.

His hand traced her features delicately—her half-closed eyes, her nose, her forehead, her lips, her cheeks.

It was all real. She was real. And now, they were one.

He took her hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing her fingertips tenderly.

Outside that room the world waited, but he would let it wait a little longer.

Between those four walls, once bare and somber, now brighter since the Sun had returned to his life, they could stay like that a little longer.

All those years gone by, the good and the bad memories, the pain and the joy, the separation and the reunion, had all led to that moment.

And as he watched her sleeping beside him, he knew it was true.

Wherever he ended up in the vastness of space, he would always return to those coordinates, which had a face and a name.

To her.

Home.

summary: a simple day, just the two of them, amidst their busy lives, that's all he really ever wanted.

tags: domestic fluff, normal life, slice of life, all caleb wants is happiness, what does it really mean being normal

words count: 3,948k

AO3 link 🔗 | masterlist 📝

It hadn’t been common lately for Caleb to be able to come to Linkon City often, so that day was almost like a special event for both of them.

Already that morning she had busied herself in the kitchen—apple peels, eggshells, flour everywhere—intent on preparing something for the day.

Knowing he was coming back from a long and rather demanding mission, she had decided that, just this once, she would be the one taking care of everything—cooking and all the rest.

After all, she was no longer the little girl who needed to be taken care of.

She took out from an old box the recipe for the apple pie Josephine used to bake so often at home, the one that had ended up becoming her, but especially Caleb’s favorite.

Fortunately, she had brought it to her apartment when she’d moved out on her own, and by doing so it hadn’t been destroyed in the explosion.

It had been months since she’d last eaten it; it would have been a nice surprise for him too, she thought.

She put on some music and, while she hummed quietly along with the tune, she began gathering and weighing the main ingredients.

Within an hour, an inviting scent had spread throughout the apartment, instantly bringing back memories of a not-too-distant but happy past.

Back then, Josephine would involve them while baking the pie; Caleb would take care of cutting the apples (being older, he’d taken on the responsibility so she wouldn’t cut herself), while she stirred the batter clumsily with a wooden spoon.

Once it was out of the oven, they’d dust it with powdered sugar, always making a mess—on their clothes, their faces, the kitchen table, the floor.

She had just finished decorating the pie when the intercom rang, revealing on the screen a figure waiting on the other side of the door.

She wiped the flour from her hands and hurried to open it, but before she could even mumble a greeting, she found herself holding a fragrant bouquet of lily-of-the-valley tied with an orange ribbon.

“...don’t you think it’s weird making me thank you before I even get to greet you and welcome you back?”

“Maaaybe you’re right. My bad, I guess I was too impatient to see your reaction, and my greeting was implied. But if we’re sticking to formalities, then…”

Holding the bouquet in one hand, she stood on tiptoe, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling herself against him with a smile.

“Welcome back, Caleb. And thank you...for both things.”

Entering the apartment, Caleb dropped his duffel bag on the couch, stretching slightly as if he’d just returned from a long journey—and judging by the darker-than-usual bags under his eyes, he had.

“You came straight from your mission…?”

Hearing the trace of worry in her voice, he smiled, clearly trying to reassure her immediately.

“Everything’s fine, I’m not that tired. I’ve had longer missions without sleep. It takes more than that to take me down, you know.”

She could only sigh, rolling her eyes slightly at his usual attempt to downplay things.

But this time she wouldn’t argue—not after all the time they’d spent apart.

Moments like this had become rare lately, and she certainly wasn’t going to waste it scolding him like an overprotective mother lecturing her reckless teenage son.

“…let’s forget it. Anyway…”

With a quick hop she positioned herself behind the kitchen table, pointing a spoon at him with a mischievous smile.

“…this time you get to taste my cooking. I did my best, so I hope the famous, multi-award-winning chef Caleb—awarded by yours truly—will be merciful with a beginner cook.”

Caleb laughed at the little scene, immediately playing along with the role of chef and food critic she’d assigned him.

“Well well, Miss Chef. I hope you’re ready for my completely honest and absolutely unbiased judgment then. I shall be very strict and direct.”

Lunch was simple—nothing impressive compared to the meals Caleb had spoiled her with ever since they were kids.

However, his very first cooking attempt had been far from a success, and even now she could taste the bitter flavor of the burnt eggs he had served her.

“Remember the first time you cooked for me?”

Caleb froze with his fork mid-air, sighing as soon as he realized she was bringing up *that* story again.

“You’re still bringing that up? How long do I have to pay for that crime and stain on my culinary résumé?”

She laughed as she kept eating, amused by his expression somewhere between offended and entertained.

“Sorry, I just can’t help thinking about it whenever I cook eggs. Are mine really that terrible too?”

Each of them had two fried eggs on their plates, with a simple side of seasonal vegetables—nothing fancy.

Caleb finally brought the fork to his mouth, biting into the egg.

“Actually, they’re not bad. You’d have to try really hard to do worse than I did back then.”

“I could’ve paid you homage… or taken revenge for that time, but I don’t think your stomach would’ve appreciated it.”

Smiling, he kept eating.

“You’ll have other chances to poison me. For today I’m happy staying alive and enjoying the day. Maybe next time, little chef.”

Once they finished the main course, she took the apple pie out of the oven and set it triumphantly on the table.

The mere appearance was exactly the ones Grandma used to make, and she couldn't help but grin happily at the view of it.

“It didn’t collapse! What do you think?”

Caleb leaned forward to inspect the pie and inhale the scent of the still-warm pastry.

“Not bad. I feel like I can even smell—”

“Cinnamon. I didn’t forget it.”

“Someone paid attention to my cooking lessons, I see. Or you’re a very good recipe thief.”

“Is that a complaint I hear?”

“Not at all. Now we just need to see if the student surpassed the master. Though seeing a pie that’s neither burnt nor raw is already a great start.”

“Apparently having you here brings luck to my cooking skills. You should come more often—for the sake of my desserts, I mean.”

“Got it. Relegated to the role of dessert protector. Copy that.”

Turning around, she grabbed a packet of powdered sugar and a sieve from the pantry.

“Remember? That was my favorite part when making the pie with you and Grandma.”

“You mean covering the kitchen in white powder and making a mess? Oh, I bet. You weren’t the one cleaning afterward.”

“That’s unfair, you used to make a mess too at first.”

“Only on my first attempts though, not every time like you.”

“Just eat!” she shot back, grabbing a warm slice of pie and pushing a piece into his mouth.

Caught slightly off guard, Caleb protested with his mouth full while she kept gently pushing more pieces in.

“Shtwop— it’s ghw-ood— it’s goo—!”

“Sorry, I don’t think I heard you. You know it’s rude to talk with your mouth full? At least that’s what someone used to tell me constantly when I was a kid. Don’t you agree?”

“You mischievous—”

"Still can't hear you..."

"Oh cwh-ome owh-n-"

Realizing maybe she was overdoing it, she gave him an apologetic look, as she stepped a bit back.

“You’re right, sorry.” she said softly, clearing her voice then brushing crumbs from the corner of his lips with her thumb.

“First you cause trouble, then you try to fix it with that innocent face. Typical you.”

Caleb chuckled, poking her side playfully.

She squealed in surprise, flinching. That’s when he noticed her shirt was still lightly dusted with powdered sugar, just like years ago.

“Well, some things never change, it seems.”

Caleb brushed a bit of sugar off his shirt and dabbed it on the tip of her nose with his finger, then looked at her with a gentle smile.

“It feels like we’re back to those afternoons at home years ago. Thank you.”

Caleb's expression was warm, soft. It had been a while since she'd seen that look on him, and her heart couldn't help but feel the same warmth.

That soft look he had as a boy, when his purple eyes would narrow slightly, while his lips, dry even then, would curve upward, a hint of redness on his cheeks that highlighted his freckles.

It felt like she had before her not the Colonel of the Farspace Fleet, but only Caleb.

Her Caleb.

If she could have frozen time, perhaps she would have done it in that moment, with the two of them in that kitchen, illuminated by the soft rays of the sun filtering through the windows, while he laughed carefree, as if nothing existed but the two of them within those four walls.

The rest of the afternoon passed in an ordinary, peaceful way, on a typical autumn day.

After a short walk through avenues lined with trees full of red and golden leaves, to pick up a few groceries for the evening, they had stopped by an old toy shop where Caleb had found a wooden model airplane to assemble.

Once they returned home, they prepared a quick snack, and sitting at the small table in the living room, they spent the afternoon putting the wooden model together while watching an old movie on TV that they had often seen when they were little.

It was the story of two friends who had grown up together through the adventures and struggles typical of youth, who then became adults with different dreams and ambitions, finding each other again once they were grown.

The boy in the movie had so many dreams, yet he gave up everything to be with her.

Was he happy with his choice? Or did he have some regrets for not following his dreams? Or had she always been his true dream?

Perhaps it was just the nostalgia stirred by the film, yet she felt as though it spoke to her in a more intimate way after all those years.

And as she watched Caleb, focused on his model while listening to the movie, she wondered if he felt the same.

That evening, Caleb insisted on taking the turn in the kitchen, using the excuse that he would cook her favorite dish to thank her for her hospitality.

“You had enough fun taking my place in the kitchen at lunch, now it’s time to restore order,” he had said, putting on an apron far too small for him, earning a few hidden giggles from her.

Not that she could complain—quite the opposite.

Eating his braised chicken wings was a bite of nostalgia mixed with happiness, a dive into the past that made her taste buds ecstatic.

Maybe she would leave the apron to him next time too.

With the table set for two in the cozy, intimate atmosphere of the kitchen, it looked like a normal evening between a long-time couple.

Was this how all those couples they had seen at the supermarket that afternoon felt?

Young and middle-aged couples shopping together as if it were more an opportunity to spend time together than a mere chore, or like a scene from the movie they had watched a few hours earlier.

In the last year, before his return, she had found herself eating alone in that kitchen, trying to recreate his dishes with fair success, yet always feeling like something was missing.

As they ate, she stole glances at him, watching his serene expression as he moved around the kitchen.

She wondered if he had felt the same, if he had longed for a day like this just as much as she had—full of domesticity and companionship.

Or perhaps his mind was elsewhere, on duties waiting for him miles above sea level, on that island among the clouds.

Caleb’s mind and his secrets were still a mystery to her.

When it was time to go to sleep, Caleb started getting ready to stay on the couch as he had on previous nights, but she grabbed the hem of his pajamas and dragged him toward the bedroom.

That man had suffered enough on her small couch; she wouldn’t be so cruel as to make him endure that torture again.

Besides, she needed to feel him close at least one more night, before their commitments could pull them apart again for who-knew-how-long.

In the darkness of the room, lying face-to-face, their hands searched for each other, eager to feel that familiar, reassuring warmth.

Gentle caresses, a few kisses, laughter as they rested in each other’s arms, talking about whatever came to mind.

And yet, despite the almost idyllic and peaceful atmosphere, her mind couldn’t stop circling back to the question that had been buzzing in her head all day.

“What's wrong?” he asked softly, brushing the arm she had wrapped around his waist.

Of course he had noticed—he knew her like the back of his hand. She could never hide anything from him, unlike him from her.

“Caleb?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever wondered what you really want in of your life?”

At the question, Caleb’s fingers stilled on her arm, as though she had asked him the most difficult and at the same time most obvious question of his life.

What did he really want in his life?

A strange question, considering that the answer was exactly in his arms at that very moment.

“Why that question?”

He asked in return, almost to buy time.

“Once you said your dream was to become a pilot, travel, see new places… discover the world. But time has passed; maybe your dreams have changed.

She wasn’t wrong—that had indeed been his dream for so long, and he had even managed to make it come true.

But now, in a way, that dream had become a bit of a prison, turned into something different and far less… free.

His DAA aircraft had turned into the one belonging to the Colonel of the Farspace Fleet, and while anyone else might have seen that as an upgrade, to him that winged hunk of metal that had once symbolized freedom had turned into a birdcage.

“Yes, you’re right,”

he finally answered, his thumb gently stroking her arm again.

“No secrets, remember?” her voice reached his ears.

Caleb smiled at the conspiratorial tone and at the phrase that once belonged to their childhood, but had now turned into a more adult promise.

“No secrets. In fact, I thought I had been pretty clear.”

“Mmm… I don’t think so. Otherwise I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Or maybe you already know and just want to hear me say it. What a sly pipsqueak.”

“Maybe. That still doesn’t change the fact that you’re not answering me.”

Caleb paused again, unconsciously taking in a deeper breath, then set his eyes on her.

“Nothing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean…?”

“What I want. Nothing. Nothing complicated, just…normality. To be normal people.”

She looked back at him, searching his eyes for a deeper meaning behind those words.

“We are not...?”

“Is that how you’d define a colonel with a bionic arm, a woman with Anhausen-Class Evol abilities and an Aether Core, two former esp—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Yes, you have a point, but… those things are part of us. Without them, we wouldn’t really be ‘us’.”

“I know, but I still can’t help thinking about it. I just want to know what it feels like to be what people consider normal. A simple life, maybe even a boring one. I just want to know what that feels like sometimes.”

"Like what?"

"How it feels like holding the person you love whenever you want. Being able to be with her without feeling scared, or guilty, without a gnawing feeling to the heart. To kiss her goodnight everyday, making love to her everyday, whispering her gentle words to help her fall asleep in my arms every night. To dream of a serene future together, without the fear of having her taken away from me."

Caleb fell silent once more, absent-mindedly stroking her arm again.

“Do you think somewhere in the cosmos… somewhere there’s a version of us that’s happy?”

“Aren’t you happy, Caleb?”

“Wait, that’s not what I meant…I guess I am, really. Since you found me again, I am. But… it’s like deep down I keep hoping there’s a version of us out there that doesn’t have to worry about anything. That can be… normal, however you define it.”

“Caleb.”

“Hm?”

Gently, she cupped his face between her fingers, turning him toward her as her eyes settled on him—the same warm, familiar color as always.

“I like not being "normal". I like it, as long as it means being it with you, as long as it means I can have you here with me."

Her tone was sure, as if she wanted him to believe the same.

"And if there’s some version of us out there in the cosmos, boring, perfect, and normal… maybe they’re wondering if there’s a version of them with a hectic life, always on edge and uncertain, but happy.”

Her hand slid from his cheek to his chest, pressing over his heart, the cool metal of his necklace between their skin.

“And the answer is yes. If we’re not the normal ones, we’ll make our own normal. As long as we’re together, we can do that, right?”

Caleb’s chapped lips curved into the faintest smile.

“I like it when you’re the optimistic one.”

They stayed silent for a moment, his fingers tenderly caressing her face.

“Caleb?”

“What is it?”

“And in your ‘normal’ life, what would you want to do?”

“You mean ideally?”

“Yes, I mean what a typical day would look like for you. I imagine you’ve thought about it.”

“Certainly.”

“Can you tell me?”

Caleb shifted slightly on the bed, holding her gently against him as he searched for her eyes in the darkness.

“Wellll...In the morning I’d leave the shutters open, so we could wake up with the sunlight whenever we feel like it. No alarms involved. I’d probably wake up first, while you’d still be asleep, mouth open, drooling between me and the pillow.”

“Hey, I don’t dro—”

“Then I’d try waking you softly, whispering, but that never worked, even when we were kids. So I’d have to resort to my old method—tickling you. You’d wake up startled and start protesting, trying to hit me and failing miserably.”

“I refuse to believe you’d be a terrible person even in your dreams.”

“I’m not done…”

“Ugh… go on.”

“Since your wake-up wouldn’t be very pleasant, I’d have to make up for it. So I’d try kissing you, but you’d turn your head back to the pillow to sleep. Soooo… I’d have to appeal to your stomach.”

“Pancakes?”

“Whatever you want. As long as it’s warm, freshly made, and—most importantly—made by me.”

“Then I’d smell it all the way to the bedroom and come to you in the kitchen.”

“I’d pretend not to hear you coming, just to feel your surprise attack from behind as you cling to me.”

“And I’d stay glued to you until you finish cooking, then I’d help set the table.”

“We’d have breakfast together while you tell me what you dreamed about. And if you had nightmares, I’d promise to hold you a little tighter the next night.”

As he said it, he instinctively pulled her a little closer.

“Then we’d get ready in the bathroom, arguing over who gets to shower first because you’re scared the hot water will run out. Then we’d go to work—whatever that may be, I don’t care. And afterward, I’d come pick you up, so we could go home together.”

“That’s it?”

“…but you’d complain you want to do something together after work. So we’d go to the movies, to the arcade, take a walk, get pizza and eat it sitting at the city overlook spot, or go to the amusement park. Or just stay at home and do something together. Wherever you want, I’d take you.”

“That’s better. And in the evening…”

“I’d cook your favorite dish, even if you’d already had those chicken wings multiple times that week, but the way your face lights up when you eat them would always be reason enough to make them again.”

“That sounds like a dream.”

“Afterwards, we’d get ready for bed. But first we’d stay there talking about whatever crosses your mind, like we always used to. Then you’d start getting sleepy, so I’d tuck you into my arms, as comfortable as possible, and I’d stroke your hair until you drift off. And once you’re asleep, I’d kiss your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, very gently, and I’d wish you sweet dreams.”

In the dark, she smiled with deep affection, gently cupping his cheek.

“Dummy, did you notice you basically described today? Or was that intentional?”

“It was.”

“Then why—”

“I want a thousand days like this, normal, ‘boring’ but ours in our own way. I want to reset every night and relive a day like this, without thinking about anything else.”

She wanted that too, truly.

Maybe if they went somewhere else, far from everyone, finding a place just for them where nothing from their past and present could follow them, leaving behind the pain and every bitter memory, they could be happy.

“I want that too.”

But their tone, instead of being dreamy and carefree at the thought, was almost sad, resigned.

The tone of someone who wants to believe in a utopia, in a bright, happy world like children do, but knows reality is different.

The tone of someone who, even while longing for a happy ending, knows from experience that life isn’t always like that—yet still keeps, tucked somewhere safe inside, a little hope.

“One day.”

“One day. I want to believe that.”

“And what if that day comes when we’re older, when we have gray hair, when walking feels like a challenge?”

“You can always use your Evol as a cane, and I’ll keep you steady by holding your arm.”

“That sounds fun.”

“If you’re there, it definitely will be.”

They both smiled at the thought, their fingers intertwined against his cheek.

Maybe one day things would be that way.

Maybe far in the future, maybe not.

Maybe that desire for normalcy would become reality—but no one could say for sure.

The only certain thing was each other’s presence, anchoring them to that world and that life, however far from normal it might be.

And if fate had other plans for them, they would build their own future, rewriting what normal meant for them.

A gentle kiss landed on her forehead as Caleb’s fingers stroked her hair.

“Our day as normal people has come to an end.”

“And what if I don’t want it to end?”

“Every day must come to an end. But I hope that next time I’m here, we can live it all over again.”

“Same movie in the afternoon?”

“I think I already know it by heart, but yes… the same movie would be fine.”

Another kiss landed on the tip of her nose, making her smile as she closed her eyes halfway.

“Then… see you again, ‘normal’ Caleb.”

“Of course. Now...just rest, okay?”

She nodded, closing her eyes and resting her head beside his, their joined hands settling between them.

One last soft kiss brushed against her lips, reluctant to end—as if trying to stretch out the quiet magic of that day a little longer.

“Sweet dreams. Goodnight.”

summary: with summer just around the corner and school nearly over, physics tutoring leads to a conversation about gravity, the universe, and the quiet pull of the heart. maybe gravity doesn't just bind planets and moons, but people too.

tags: teenager!calebmc, first crush, sweet & short, caleb is her tutor for a day, mc can't figure out her feelings yet

words count: 2,502k

AO3 link 🔗

Spring was almost over, summer was just around the corner, and it wasn’t just the calendar that pointed at it—there was also the rising temperature over the past few days, the longer daylight hours, and the louder chirping of cicadas.

School would be over in a few days, shortly after Caleb’s birthday, and speaking of him, he had recently come back home from college temporarily just for the occasion.

That afternoon, after helping her grandmother with a few reparations in the house, he had joined her in the yard. She was sitting on a chair, a focused expression on her face, absently biting her pencil while studying for the final tests of the school year.

"Need a hand?"

"No thanks, I can manage. It’s nothing too difficult."

"Are you sure? Judging by the bite marks you're leaving on the pencil, it doesn’t really look like it."

Ah, that habit again.

"I was just lost in thought."

"You seem more stressed to me. And... maaaybe hungry. Sure you don’t some help?"

"I’m not stressed, I just have trouble focusing at this time of day."

"Can I at least get you a snack? A little sugar might give your tired neurons a boost."

"I’m not hungry, I ate not long ago."

"Mr. Pencil might disagree with you on that."

With a sigh, she closed the book and set it on the small table beside her.

"I didn’t want to bother you with my requests, you already had to help Grandma with the house today."

Caleb wiped away a bead of sweat from his forehead, as he set away in an old box some repair tools.

"Since tightening a few bolts around the house wasn’t a problem, I think I’m perfectly capable of helping you with these terrifying physics assignments too."

A small smile appeared on her lips, then she pulled him toward the chair next to hers, grabbing his arm.

"Alright, little genius, then I’ll be happy to give you the privilege of helping me for a few hours. And I won’t feel guilty about it!"

"That’s more like it."

She hated physics—she hated it with every fiber of her being.

All those formulas, the endless laws that ruled everything around her, in her mind they turned into nothing more than a jumbled mess of vaguely confusing information.

And yet, when Caleb explained it to her, she couldn’t help but listen, completely captivated.

Maybe it was the enthusiastic way he talked about it, or how he managed to rephrase what he was explaining using clear examples that stuck in her mind.

His violet eyes shined differently in those moments, just like now, as if the enthusiasm behind his words was making the subtle golden-orange of his irises sparkle more brightly.

"The easiest way to remember the law of gravity? Think of Newton and his apple."

"I thought that was just a legend. Will you tell it to me again?"

"Maybe it is, who knows. Still, it’s a perfectly reasonable example. Did you forget it already? We just read it a moment ago."

"Sorry, I wasn’t listening. I was—"

Caleb gently flicked her forehead with a sigh.

"Ow, Caleb!"

"Come on, I barely touched you, stop complaining. Just focus, it’s not that hard."

"Tell me the story again, please?"

He sighed, but his lips betrayed an amused smile—after all, he was used to scenes like this. It wasn’t the first time they had banters like this.

"Only if you really pay attention. At the end, you have to give me a summary, okay?"

"Got it."

"Good. So, legend has it that Newton, sitting under an apple tree, was hit by a falling apple. Instead of getting angry about it, he started wondering why the apple didn’t just hang in the air or go in another direction. That led him to hypothesize that there was a force pulling all objects toward the center of the Earth—and that this force, which he called gravity, was the same one keeping the Moon in orbit around the Earth."

"So everything is affected by gravity?"

"Of course, otherwise you’d be floating around like a balloon."

He emphasized the point by miming with his fingers and making the sound of a balloon whooshing quickly up into the sky.

She chuckled at the example, following the motion of his hand, then kept her gaze on the sky, as if suddenly lost in thought.

"What is brewing around in your little noggin now? Thinking of yourself as Newton, sitting under an Asian apple tree, waiting for one to fall and knock gravity’s law right into your head?"

"Nah, I was just... thinking. It's not really about Newton."

"So...?"

Caleb raised his eyebrows slightly and tilted his head to look at her, as if encouraging her to go on.

"Caleb, you said gravity comes from Earth, right?"

"Well… more or less. The bigger something is, the more 'important' in a way, the stronger the gravitational pull it exerts. It doesn't apply just to Earth, all the other planets have it, for example."

"Do you think the same applies to people?"

"Maybe, that’s an interesting theory. What were you thinking about?"

She shrugged, looking away. A gentle afternoon breeze filled the pause between them, rustling the leaves of the only tree in the garden, mingling with the chirping of cicadas.

"I don’t know. Maybe it’s a silly thought."

"I enjoy hearing those. Maybe I’ll write a book full of them. Who knows, I might even make some money—and of course, share it with you, since you’d be the main source of the book's content."

She kicked him in the ankle in mock annoyance, elating a "hey!" from him.

"I’m trying to be serious here. Weren’t you the one who said you get these kinds of thoughts too, now and then?"

"Sorry, sorry… I’m all ears."

"Do you think the law of universal gravitation applies to people too? I mean… do you think there’s a law that says, the closer you are to someone who’s great, or important, the harder it becomes to let go of them?"

"Hm..."

"And that even if that someone leaves, there’s always a force pulling you toward them, no matter the distance?"

"Why all these thoughts all of a sudden?"

"You haven't replied to my question yet!"

"Yeah, yeah sorry. It's just that I didn't think you were this deep though. Such many thoughts in such a small pipsqueak, who would have thought."

Caleb gently ruffled her hair, as she then proceeded to swat his hand away from her head.

"Are you avoiding my question?"

"I'm not. Never thought physics tutoring would lead you to such philosophical-like thinking, did you accidentally gave me the wrong book?"

He asked as he picked the book from the nearby garden table, turning it around in his head with a pensive frown.

"Hmmm...nope. Still a physics one."

"Caleb."

His eyes turned to her, noticing how she was still looking at him, eagerly waiting for his answer.

He smiled warmly as he set the book back on the small table.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. We're all subjected to gravity, without exception. So even in relationships, we tend to look for something that keeps us grounded—or something we know is connected to us, even from a distance. A center of gravity, you might call it. Maybe even a permanent one."

She listened to him carefully, sitting in her small green garden chair, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Do you have one, Caleb?"

He nodded as he handled a small piece of paper, folding it skillfully.

"Of course I do."

"Who is it? Is she pretty?"

She didn’t even know why she had just said that—it had slipped out almost subconsciously.

Since when had she ever thought about asking him that?

Before she could even rephrase the question, he answered swiftly, striking a pose like someone trying to recall a long list of things.

"Well, one has green eyes, a kind smile, short hair... a bit old, though. Meanwhile, the other one is a bit feisty—"

"You have more than one...?"

Her eyes widened slightly, her body leaning toward him from the chair, as she let go of her knees.

"Ahem—like I was saying, the other one is a bit feisty. Pretty loud, sometimes a little whiny. But her hugs are the best, so I guess that makes up for all the fuss she causes."

"Caleb, are you being serious? At least tell me if I know them."

A bright, crystalline laugh escaped his dry lips, eyes crinkling shut.

He playfully flicked her nose, looking at her with that amused grin—the usual one he wore whenever he was teasing her.

"Silly girl. Of course I'm talking about you and Gran."

She touched the tip of her nose where he had flicked it, her expression shifting from surprise to mock offense.

"You dummy! Were you trying to make me believe you liked more than one girl on purpose?!"

He raised his hands in a mock surrender, grinning with amusement.

"Oh no no no... I never said that—you were the one who assumed it. What kind of person do you think I am?"

With an exaggerated sigh, she leaned in and grabbed his cheeks with both hands, squishing them as she kept repeating how childish and annoying he was.

Laughter and playful protests quickly filled the garden, which had witnessed countless exchanges like that over the years since they had moved into that house—season after season.

And back then, she really believed it would have been like that for many more years.

The wind flipped through the pages of the book left open on the garden table, doing the same with a few strands of her hair.

With her head resting on her arms crossed on the small table, eyes half closed, she let the warm June breeze caress her face.

"A glass of apple soda straight from the fridge for the little seagull."

She lifted her head from the table as Caleb joined her again in the courtyard, holding two glasses in one hand, ice cubes clinking.

"Was it the leftover one in the glass jug in the fridge?"

"Yep, it was tucked away in the back a bit, but the color was unmistakable."

He set the glasses on the table, pushing one toward her, and sat back down across from her.

"It was just an experiment. I missed the one you usually make, so I tried to replicate it, but it didn’t turn out that great. I was hoping you could make it again sometime soon."

"Maybe it’s missing my touch and my magical secret ingredient, but let me be the judge of that."

"...it’s still not that good though."

Caleb took a few gulps of the soda, then swallowed with a satisfied look.

"Not bad at all."

"You don’t have to pretend just to spare my feelings."

"I’m not pretending. You just can’t accept a genuine compliment."

"If you say so... but before you go, make some more yourself."

She answered as she finished her glass too, then rested her head on her crossed arms again.

Caleb followed suit, taking the same position and pushing the glasses toward the edge of the table so their eyes could meet.

"Caleb."

"Mh?"

"What you said earlier... did you really mean it?"

"If you mean that your apple soda isn’t bad, even if it’s not as good as mine, yes, I meant it."

"I meant what you said about gravity centers."

"I know, I was just teasing."

"Do you think it will always be like that, what you said before?"

"Of course."

"But gravity exists on many different planets, not just Earth. One day you might find another center of gravity. Or who knows...your Evol might act up, and make you...float away. From us."

"That will never happen."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, not because she found it hard to believe what he was saying, but because deep down she felt uneasy even voicing such thoughts.

"How can you be so sure? Pilots travel a lot, they see so many places, different planets—it’s inevitable they might find something beautiful, or important somewhere else."

"In the end, what every pilot wants after a flight is just to return to base."

"And what if one day you don’t want to come back?"

"Hey, listen. No matter how far I fly..."

The wind had died down, yet her eyes saw a little paper airplane rise into the air, lit by a faint blue-orange glow, twirling toward her before landing a few centimeters from her nose on the table.

"...my coordinates will always bring me back here to you, no matter what. And more importantly, they’ll never change."

She smiled softly, as the paper plane slightly moved forward tapping her nose, her eyes meeting his.

"Promise me?"

"...I promise."

She stretched her arm across the table, holding out her pinky finger to him.

Caleb chuckled at the almost childish gesture but didn’t pull away, linking his much larger pinky with hers, sealing that small vow.

The warmth of his skin through that simple touch made her heart beat a little faster than usual.

Actually, it always happened—every time Caleb came home to visit them, reminding her that even though he no longer lived there with them, he wasn’t really that far away.

She looked at him again, as if trying to imprint the scene in her mind before he left once more.

His brown hair tousled by the wind—or maybe just because he seemed allergic to any kind of hairbrush.

His slightly chapped lips curved into that warm, familiar smile.

The freckles that, in the afternoon sun, looked like tiny golden flakes she used to enjoy counting as a child—though she always lost count after a few seconds.

His hands, much bigger than hers, capable of so many things—from piloting aircraft, fixing anything around the house, preparing her favorite meals, or holding her hand when thunderstorms scared her at night.

And finally, his eyes—the ones she saw again in the colors of twilight whenever he was far away, eyes that felt like comfort and home.

Wherever they might end up one day, she knew that by looking up at the sky, she’d feel close to him.

By day, seeing planes cross the sky, imagining it was him soaring above her head; and by night, watching the sky after sunset, searching for his colors.

She couldn't really name that warmth she suddenly felt between her stomach and her heart.

Perhaps it was hope, fear, affection, or something she had never felt before.

Who knew.

"Caleb."

"Yeah?"

"I think I’ve understood the law of universal gravitation."

"Good, that means maybe I haven’t lost my tutoring skills."

"If gravity really applies to people too, then as long as you’re here, somewhere on this planet, I’ll have a reason to stay...and even without you using your evol on me, I won’t float away like a balloon."

With an amused look, she mimicked the balloon impression he had done earlier.

Though that part...she probably wouldn't have included it into the physics test the next day.

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