caleb visits home on winter break. it’d only been a few months since he left for the aerospace academy, you didn’t expect him to be back so soon. you were counting on a visit during spring break, or on an odd public holiday – not this early on, not when he hadn’t even really settled in yet.
you’d barely heard from him while he was gone. caleb was always such a huge texter with you, and now, you receive sporadic texts every now and again – and it always seemed as if he was sending them out of obligation. naturally, your responses became delayed too, and you never initiated any communication. phone calls were rare and less than a minute, mostly filled with awkward silences, breathing and rustling after exchanging polite formalities before one of you says you've got to go. you understood the demands of a prestigious programme like his, so you didn’t think too much into it, but nonetheless, it hurt to see the change.
before he left, neither of you acknowledged, or mentioned what was going on between you two. you didn’t expect to share a transformative conversation about a lifetime of unspoken feelings, but your final goodbye to him – the wishing him well and leaving him with a necklace, felt like an anticlimactic end to an incomplete chapter.
after some time, you believed the way things played out was for the best. you were tired of the lack of clarity in your relationship, how it always felt like you were getting dragged along – caleb was always somewhere between a friend, a brother and a lover. when it suited him he’d shake your shoulders playfully, carry your bag, poke your forehead, and other times, he’d look at you in a way no platonic relation would. the kind of look that made your heart race, and when he noticed you noticing that, he’d act like he didn't mean anything by it – quickly changing the subject.
you arrive home from your part time job, bundled in a long wool scarf and puffer coat. you drop the heavy tote bag you haul in onto the entryway rug – snowflakes scatter across the floor, quickly melting. the house was comfortably warm, unlike the cold, tenacious winds of linkon city. it was the first snow of the winter season. a thick white sheet covered the entire city in one nightfall – how quickly things changed, and yet you still felt so wrapped up in the past. you wished you could step into this new season as easily as the skies did.
upon seeing you, josephine greets you warmly.
“ah, honey, you’d be pleased to know–”
you cross into the kitchen swiftly, cutting her off mid sentence.
there stood a familiar figure, one you could easily recognise in a crowd. wide back, broad shoulders, hands working earnestly on peeling fruit. you were glad you couldn’t see his face. he hums the tune of a popular indie song.
your fingers tremble slightly beside your side. what was he doing here?
the vision of his back turned to you in the kitchen felt like a mirage. caleb, the oasis, after having spent dizzying months under the scorching sun and dry air of the desert.
you weren’t sure how true this vision was, and you weren’t sure if you wanted a taste – though you knew better.
“not going to say hello?” he says in that familiar teasing voice.
you struggle to lift your feet from their place, they stay rooted in the ground like stubborn weed until josephine’s voice interrupts the liminal space. your thoughts scatter – unable to make sense of his sudden appearance. the only thing you can do is watch his back, burning the image of his large frame into your mind.
“caleb! need your help for a moment.”
as josephine makes her way to the entryway of the kitchen, you bolt out and make your way upstairs.
she seems surprised by your sudden abrupt departure.
“where is she?” caleb asks softly, turning around. he was anticipating your presence.
“oh, she was just here a moment ago. she’s hurried up to her room – probably getting ready for dinner.”
he tilts his head, looking in the direction of the stairs, as if trying to find the faintest trace of you to hold onto.
later that evening, you head down for dinner, catching caleb’s eyes as he sets the table.
“hiding away upstairs so i can do all the work? typical pipsqueak”
you scowl at the nickname, biting your cheek.
“still holding back on my hello?” he says as he meticulously fixes the position of the cutlery on the table, avoiding your gaze. his necklace sways minutely with every motion he makes.
why was he still holding onto that? you’d have expected him to have discarded by now – left faraway in a dresser at his dorm, alongside other knick knacks – maybe with some extra parts for a plane model or key cards.
you know, that was the thing about caleb. he had the power to choose when he would make you feel special, or even worth his time. he’d wear the necklace you gave him, but he wouldn’t spare you the time of day to properly catch up while he was gone. everything fell in line with his own internal calendar, everything always happened on his terms. and that’s why he felt comfortable enough to waltz back home, in the dead of winter, and expect things to be exactly how he left them. and you – still playing your role in that unspoken game of pretending that there’s not something between you two.
just how long did he think you’d be satisfied playing this little game of cat and mouse?
as you watch him lay the table, your resentment festers for your brother, a man, that you once loved dearly.
“it’s nice to see you too, caleb.”
upon hearing your voice, his eyes immediately flicker up to yours. his gaze shifts rapidly from one eye to another, then to the rest of your face which he studies carefully. he can’t seem to place himself in your detached gaze.
“dinner, dinner, dinner!” josephine chimes, bringing in a steaming pot of chicken curry.
caleb eases the heavy pot from her hands, setting it on the table.
he takes his regular seat beside you, just like old times. you can’t help but to sigh deeply. he glances in your direction for a moment before shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
josephine steers the quietness of the room to a relaxed string of questions about caleb’s programme. he responds enthusiastically, however his gaze keeps returning to you.
“so, will you be spending christmas with us honey? you know we’d love to have you here.” josephine asks curiously.
you scoff a little before responding.
“it’s the busiest time of the year, he’s probably not grandma.” you pick at the rice with a fork.
“i can make time for my family… we’re off until the end of the month so–”
a short laugh escapes your lips, which then erupts into a loud, incredulous one.
caleb looks to you bizarrely, whilst josephine uncomfortably grasps a napkin.
“sorry… it’s nothing. just funny, that’s all. carry on.”
“i don’t think i said anything funny.”
“well, it’s not like you’d ever know, right?”
caleb’s brows furrow deeply, a look of hurt painted across his face.
“woah, what’s… going on?” he responds tentatively. his hand moves to settle on your thigh, but you set the fork on the table harshly and stand up.
“i don’t think i’m hungry.”
you look straight at him. “i must’ve lost my appetite”
“pip..” the words wither on his tongue, leaving his lips as a breathless, weak murmur. his sentence trails off to nowhere.
he knows this isn’t about food.
“you just came back from work, you should try to eat something at least.”
you walk towards the long flight of wooden stairs, caleb’s hand catches your wrist. your gaze falls to his tight grasp, you knew that would leave a mark. no matter how much you tried to wash that stain called caleb from your skin, he always managed to find a way to burrow himself back into you.
“why’re you looking at me like that?”
“well, i’m sorry if you felt that way…” you reply disinterested as you look up the flight of stairs.
he tugs your wrist lightly – caressing the inner part with his thumb, prompting you to look at him. you take a moment before vaguely looking at him. caleb was no longer steering things anymore.
“is everything okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching yours earnestly.
“could we drop that? we’re grown, it’s kind of embarrassing.”
caleb’s eyes flicker in surprise. it felt like one thing after another with you tonight.
“why are you being like this all of a sudden? did something happen? did i do something?”
his shoulders are tense, his eyes pleading for any kind of response or explanation.
oh, how desperate and uncertain he looked – chasing you, demanding answers, seeking clarification. though it pained you to keep him at arms length, knowing a part of you still desired him – desired a touch from him you’d never received, but longed for – his hands caressing your stomach, back, arms, legs… you vowed to yourself to never be strung along like that ever again. if it meant protecting your emotional peace, you could live without having his touch – besides you knew you had the tools to get what you wanted from him, without sacrificing your position.
“no, nothing’s wrong” you respond softly. you raise your brows at the prolonged grasp on your wrist, causing him to withdraw his hand.
