Welcome to Skyhaven's first and only hidden apple stand!
Hidden away in one of Skyhaven's bustling high-tech centers, this little apple stand serves as a memory of the distant past.
When ordering from the stand (aka sending messages to my inbox), please put one of the following emojis:
🍏: ask/headcannon request
🍎: fic request
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This blog has dark and explicit themes (except for the occasional fluff I might write)! Please exit the stand if you're not 18+.
And of course, outside of fanfic writing, kindness and positivity are the main values of this humble apple stand. Any bad apples of a bunch are never permitted here!
I write for all of the LIs, but Caleb just happens to my favorite apple (LI) to grow (write about)! Feel free to ask about any of them!
some info about me:
Nana, 20+, she/her
Important links will be posted below as time goes on!
Hello! Just read your Xavier's One-Shot and found your blog, as a Xavier's and Caleb's girlie suffice to say, I would absolutely gobbled up your writing since it's so good! Haven't read any of the Caleb fic since I wanna save it for later, but I'll probably send you another ask to give you my reaction and gratefulness for writing such a gem (hopefully you'll be fine with a little of yapping ( ╹▽╹ ))
ANYWAY back to Xavier one shot. I am grabbing your shoulder as I type this but WHAT HAPPENS NEXT??!?? (Not asking for a sequel but I mean .. I won't protest if you wanna (・∀・))
Because like?? I didn't expect it would turn that way? Somehow I naively thought the queen would support Xavier to be with reader from her earlier words haha.
But then we nyoom away (who doesn't like some good ol angst) and of course Xavier would follow us, BUT ?? OKAY THEY KISSED, THEY (presumably) GET TOGETHER BUT THEN WHAAT???
Like are they going to elope?? Will Xavier try to overthrow the Queen's decision?? Or maybe even take the whole kingdom– but he's not the crown prince, maybe make a deal with his brother ?
I know you're probably making it open ending for reasons BUT I'm sitting at the edge of my seat here. Are they truly going to hee happy? Will it be just a fleeting happiness before the same thing happens to reader? (banished etc just like the Queen's past knight lover
Anyway just wanna drop by since your blog seems like new (?), glad to discover another great author here for Caleb and Xavier, hope you'll stick here for long ( ꈍᴗꈍ).
Hi, cutie! First of all, thank you so much for your message--I love yapping, especially when it's from as lovely of a reader as you! The world of Prince! Xavier x Commoner-to-Knight! reader was super fun to write about, and I left it open-ended because I am lowkey incapable of writing a full start-to-a-neat-finish oneshot as a multi-chapter writing girlie. I can't quite promise a sequel (though the chance of it is pretty high, once I get the other writing ideas out of the way because I've been thinking of writing a darker arranged marriage AU with one of the other LIs--probably Rafayel or Zayne because they haven't gotten love on my blog yet--for a second). However, I can answer some questions about how it would go, if it was written up.
As the spare of the royal family, Xavier's been taught to adhere to his duty. However, his obligation to his duty honestly crumbled the moment he encountered you in his youth and fell rather hopelessly in love. He would try to encourage you to agree to eloping, but you've always been the more responsible of the two. You would refuse, and so there would be maneuvering on his end to force his brother, the crown prince, to facilitate your marriage. If it happens that he has to force his brother's hand to allow that to happen through polite conversation, well, that's the path that he'll take. But if you try to go through with your plans of retiring and leaving to stay in a distant place, he'll just simply end up outside your door and wait until you feel some moral distress for having a royal member loiter on your doorstep and let him in.
The Queen would be the main opponent to your marriage though, and she would attempt to sow some discord between the loving couple. However, Xavier, who's had his suspicions on what caused you to decide to distance yourself from him, would put a stop to it pretty fiercely. He's grown up closer to your mother, his nanny, and the Queen never treated him maternally due to her dissatisfaction with her marriage, so he doesn't view the Queen as a maternal figure. And after all, if the Queen doesn't seem content with what's going on in the capital, then the royal family always has many villas in a warmer place that she can take an extended stay at.
Funnily enough, it seems like Xavier's not very aware that he was even going to be wedded off, simply just because he doesn't really pay attention to anything that isn't you, so I'm assuming from his perspective, it's very much like the girl I've loved for years likes me back but now she's pushing me away??? So he would put also put a fierce stop to the rumors. Honestly, he might even maneuver the situation so that another member of the royal family ends up marrying the princess and then there's nothing more for you to even worry about.
No matter what, because you reciprocate his feelings and because Xavier's a pretty stubborn and capable person, the two of you will still have a happy ending. And once he finds out about the hairpin story, he'll first be like why didn't you say anything to me about this but he'll get back into his hairpin-making though and you'll have so many cluttering up your space.
Hopefully, this soothes your curiosity, cutie! And there might be a sequel or a drabble from this world coming sometime :)
Waking up in a different world where you have to pretend you have amnesia to get by is one thing. Waking up in a different world where you're married to a complete stranger and have to pretend you have amnesia is another.Yet, this stranger seems to know you well. Too well. And with everything this world seems to be hiding from you, he's the only one you can bring yourself to trust.But when distrust wedges itself between you and your newfound connection with this stranger-turned-husband, you begin to doubt if you can ever find a way to leave this world and return back to yours.
When you wake up, the house is completely silent. There’s no sign that the other 6’2’’ man (your husband, which, as weird as that thought was before, you don’t know when it had started feeling normal) that inhabited this space too was still here.
You realize that Caleb’s already gone to work. There’s a slight sting that he didn’t even wake you up to say goodbye before he left. Though you weren’t sure you would know how exactly to react if he did come in, after everything that happened yesterday, you had hoped to see him. To check if he was okay.
You roll yourself up to a seated position, taking a half-asleep scan of the room to see if there was any indication that Caleb had stopped by inside the room. Surely, he had to have come into this room to change clothes before work.
Sensations zip through your mind—warm chapped lips on your forehead, a lingering touch on your hair, his voice softly shushing you as you sleepily murmur. You hum thoughtlessly, shaking away those sensations from your mind. Yeah, must just be you dreaming things up, right?
Just like how you dreamt up those sounds. Caleb, whimpering and gasping out. Heat warms your lower stomach. You slap the sides of your face, hoping to snap out of it.
Your gaze lands briefly on the plushies. You think about the ring that you hid there, and then you think about the ring on your own finger. They’re identical copies, to a tee.
You push yourself up off the bed. You can’t spend the whole day ruminating about what-ifs or theorizing about what could be. But you do know one thing.
The you in this world must have a life that exists outside of Caleb’s presence, and because you don’t exactly know when you’re going to return to your original place, it wouldn’t be that bad for you to figure out what your life here should be like. Who knows—it might offer you a clue on what brought you here and what can let you leave.
Leave, back to a world without Caleb.
For some odd reason, your heart pangs. You place a hand gingerly on your chest and furrow your brows. The discomfort in your chest hasn’t been persistent, but when it comes, it almost scares you.
Your phone buzzes next to you, startling you.
Caleb.
You press your lips tightly together. You’re surprised he’s calling you. But for some reason, a part of you knows that Caleb’s always been the one to break the silence first.
Your fingers waver above the green phone button, hesitant, and then you hit it.
“Up yet, sleepyhead?” his voice crackles through the receiver. He sounds normal, like there was nothing odd that happened last night. You remember the warmth of his tears against your skin, the lost look in his eyes. All of it gone, evaporated.
You bite your bottom lip, gnawing on it in thought. You’ll play along, like nothing happened. You settle on a simple question. “Where are you?”
“I’m just finishing up a quick mission. Not a big deal. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He then laughs. “Worried about me?”
“No,” the answer comes out too quick from your mouth. You fluster. “Okay, a little bit...You didn’t wake me up this morning. And the service where you are seems bad.”
“And you missed me?” his voice is lower. Serious now.
You don’t know how to respond. You don’t know if you should respond. Caleb doesn’t say anything. The silence is loud, and you crumble before the pressure.
“A little...,” you mumble before blurting out. “But, but it’s because I’m bored out of my mind here! And I don’t know what I should be doing, or if I should be doing something.”
“You don’t need to do anything. You don’t have to do anything. You could even be a little roly poly and curl up in sleep all day. Orrrr you can see what I have outside in the living room on the table.”
You perk up at that. In a flash, you’re on your feet, flinging the door open.
The first thing you spot is a white box. There’s not much on it detailing what it could be besides the logo: OTTO. You fling your phone onto the table, barely remembering to press the speaker button, before digging into the box.
“It’s already set up, but it should be useful,” Caleb speaks.
A medium-sized mechanical orb pops out of the box. It floats up, flashing blue light at you.
“OTTO reporting for service, Miss Pipsqueak!” the orb cheers in its high-pitched voice.
You let out a laugh in surprise. “Caleb! Why’d you give it that kind of name?”
Caleb just chuckles in response.
“OTTO can help you with solving your problem of boredom! I can be used to access a digital library of books and movies, show you tutorials and help you procure you the supplies needed for them, accompany you anywhere you want in Skyhaven to prevent you from being lost, and more! Just give me the order!” The robot blinks blue at you before it stills, waiting for your voice.
“Oh, Caleb, this is really cool. In my world, we don’t have things as advanced as this!” you coo in amazement. And then you realize your slip. “I mean, in my mind, I just can’t imagine something like this.”
“Is this good for your boredom then? Or are you gonna keep going Caleb, I’m borreeed,” he drags out his works, mimicking your voice.
You frown at that. “Hey, I don’t sound like that!”
He laughs again. “Well, wouldn’t you say this is a good solution to your boredom though? I’ll be back for dinner, but you should see what OTTO is fully capable of. And remember to take your meds after eating something. The doc said you shouldn’t be forgetting them.”
“Mm-hm,” you hum mindlessly. And then a thought crosses your mind. “Wait, wait, dinner will be a surprise!” you exclaim.
You remember the hot pot meal you had to give up yesterday. With OTTO around, it should be easy to get everything you need. Suddenly, the suffocating feeling of being trapped that had followed you since last night seems to lessen.
“I look forward to it then.” His voice crackles again. It seems like the signal’s getting worse. “I gotta go now. But call me if anything happens. The wanderer incident yesterday shouldn’t happen again, not with the increase in patrols, but be careful. OTTO will keep you safe too.”
You let out a hum of agreement before ending the call.
“Now, OTTO, I’m going to get changed, and we’ll go on a journey to get breakfast,” your eyes flick to the clock, “I mean, brunch before we go grocery shopping.”
🍏🍎
OTTO takes you through a different path in Skyhaven, one that you didn’t see yesterday in your outing. In your original world, if someone saw a robot orb bobbing along, you would’ve gotten looks.
But here, everyone seems used to the high level of technology. No one blinks an eye as you settle down at the street food stall and order a bowl of spicy wonton noodles. And when you realize that you forgot your wallet (do you even have one here?) and have no idea on how to pay, OTTO flashes and the payment goes through.
You settle down on the stool. When the owner brings out the bowl, the smell of the chili oil causes your stomach to grumble. But before you take a bite, Caleb flashes through your mind. You wonder if he’s eaten.
You pull out your phone, taking a picture of the dish. You send it to Caleb with the message: Made it to brunch! Did you eat yet?
He doesn’t immediately see the message. With his current signal, you wonder if he’s even received it.
You tuck your phone away and take a large bite of the dish. The bouncy noodles snap in your mouth, and the flavors of the filling burst through your mouth. You hum in delight.
In a flash, you’re finished with your bowl. Your lips tingle from the spice, but the grumble of your stomach finally settles. You fumble through your bag, pulling out a small pill container. Caleb had it all set up on the table before you left, as if he knew you would be eager to go out to explore and forget to take them otherwise. After all, at the hospital, he had been the one to remind you to take them every morning and had kept you on a strict schedule. And yesterday, they had been sat next to your breakfast.
You swallow the pills. They leave a thick bitter aftertaste in your mouth, and you stick your tongue out in disgust. Blegh.
As you get up to leave, you hesitate. Sure, if you ordered the noodle soup, the noodles would be soggy by the time Caleb came back, but an order of the wontons would be good.
You wave your hands at the owner, placing your order. OTTO pays again, and it opens itself up to reveal a cooling compartment. You set the container of wontons in there. It closes itself back up, and the container seems to have disappeared into nowhere.
“Where next?” OTTO asks.
You grin, your eyes twinkling in mischief. “Is there milk tea here?”
OTTO pings, and it turns to show you a screen. “We have 7 options within a 5-minute walking range. Would you like me to pull up the menus for any of them?”
Moments later, you’re back out on the street, this time with a cup of milk tea in hand. OTTO had helped you order ahead, and though it had asked you if you wanted to wait for it to bring the cup to you, you had insisted on walking the short distance. The shop had been cute, reminiscent of the stores where you lived.
“Where next, Miss Pipsqueak?”
You narrow your eyes at the robot, chewing on the tapioca bubbles. “Is there any way to change the name you have for me?”
OTTO blinks at you. “Sorry, Miss Pipsqueak, but I was given the name at purchase. There’s no way for me to change that in the settings.”
You let out a sigh. You’ll gripe at Caleb about this later. “Well, how about you take me to some sight-seeing spots in Skyhaven?”
OTTO pings at this request. It spins around to reveal its screen. “Any preferences on where we start?”
You’re about to respond when a thought flashes through your mind.
“Never mind. Why don’t you pull up some stores where I can get ingredients for hotpot instead?”
OTTO pings again, and the screen refreshes.
You pick one at random. All of a sudden, a wave of longing hits you. OTTO’s convenient, that’s for sure, but it’s not the same as having a human being accompany.
And a part of you knows, you would’ve preferred it if Caleb was the one showing you around.
🍏🍎
Your stamina’s running out by the time you finish up at the grocery store. You had woken up late, and breakfast (okay, brunch) had taken up a chunk of the late morning. And with how you had been running around, the time you spent bedridden and mostly sentient otherwise is catching up to you.
Your breath is uneven as you lug the bags to the nearest bench. You had grown too eager in the store. The brands, though looking familiar, had all been novel to you, and with OTTO’s helpful narration, you admittedly had spent too much time in each aisle. That meant that besides the overflowing ingredients you had selected for hot pot, you had also picked up at least one item from each aisle. And there had been a lot of aisles.
OTTO had offered to help carry the bags, but even the little robot could only handle two of the overflowing bags before it was blinking its LED eye at you in exhaustion. You set down your bags, taking up the entire bench, before plopping down and leaning your head back, closing your eyes.
The tree above the bench offers some shade from the blistering heat of the mid-afternoon sun, but even that isn’t enough to help with the sweat soaking through your shirt.
You hear a beep and feel a soft whir of cold air gusting at you.
“Thanks, OTTO,” you breathe out in relief. When you don’t hear the robot’s cheery voice in response, you crack an eye open, only to meet a startling purple.
“Caleb?”
You immediately straighten your back, overtly conscious of your prior melting posture on the bench. You turn your body around to face the man standing behind. You’re sure the shocked expression on your face matches that of a few passersby, who whisper behind their hands to each other before shuffling away.
Despite his busy day and how unbearably humid the heat is, it’s almost unfair how good he looks despite dressed in what looks like a suffocating uniform. The only sign of a crack in his flawless exterior is the slight rumple of his hair and the sheen of his neck. And somehow, even that makes him more attractive. You become conscious of the flush on your cheeks and the amount of sweat you’re drenched in.
“You didn’t know that OTTO has a cooling mode?” His stern composure then softens as he grins at you. “Come on, turn around, I’ll tie your hair up.”
He lifts an arm, spinning his wrist and his sleeve droops down, revealing a hair tie around it.
You turn around. You feel him carefully sweep your hair up, and the tie snapping around your locks. The leather of his glove brushes against the back of your neck, and goosebumps rise on your skin. You shiver. “Caleb, that tickles!”
He chuckles at it. “All done.”
You turn back to squint at him. “Shouldn’t you be on a mission? What are you doing here? How’d you find me? And, and, aren’t you sweltering in that uniform?”
“Asking a lot of questions, Pipsqueak.” He’s hooking his fingers around the bags next to you, already arranging them neatly in his grasp. “The mission ended early. I missed you. There’s nowhere I can’t find you. And the uniform is hot, which means I’m ready to go home and get changed. Besides, the food shouldn’t be sitting out here for too long. Aren’t you making hot pot for tonight?”
You pinch your lips together. The look on your face amuses him even more. “Ohhh,” he draws out, “I forgot, it was supposed to be a surprise. Come on, you don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking.”
You hop to your feet. “If you knew, then you shouldn’t tell me you know! I was going to surprise you with the best dinner of your life.” You purse your lips in thought. “Well, best hotpot dinner of your life.”
“And hey! Leave some of the bags for me to take. You can’t be taking them all.” You protest. Caleb’s already set off, with the copious number of bags in his grip. Caleb’s even got the ones OTTO had. You jog to catch up. Your fingers reach out to catch the straps of some of the bags.
Instead of responding to you, Caleb arranges all of the bags to be on one of his arms and reaches out to grasp your fingers, effectively holding your hand and silencing you.
The two of you walk together in silence. And though you should feel sticky and gross from the heat, especially with how warm Caleb runs too, you don’t say anything more. Instead, you take a peek up at him.
“I know it’s fun to explore, but you should take it easier on yourself. You just recovered,” his voice softens in worry. His grip around your hand tightens a bit.
“Ayy,” you shrug, “I know my limits. And with OTTO around, it won’t be a big deal. He can call emergency services, no?”
You adjust your hand so that your fingers can be firmly interlocked with his. “I’d say the same about you too, you know. You concern me sometimes. Don’t disappear on me like that, like...” Last night. Your voice goes quiet, leaving the last words unspoken. After a beat of hesitation, you continue. “And...then I wake up and you didn’t even say goodbye to me before you left and then you call me and you’re in a place I don’t even know and...and I don’t even know if I can reach you.”
He doesn’t respond for a bit. You almost question if he heard you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I just needed to clear my head.” His voice is quiet. “I just, after finding out you were hurt, I just was scared of losing you again. And all those feelings resurfaced last night.”
He’s stopped in his tracks, and you pause by his side.
You clench your grip around him and let out a soft sigh. You can’t pretend like you fully understand what exactly Caleb feels about you or the you of this world. You had grown up alone, without anyone by your side and without anyone who would worry this much if you got hurt. You don’t remember the exact details of it. The past seems more hazy to you now, but the loneliness is seared deep into your bones. It’s something you don’t think you could ever forget.
But you knew that the relationship the you of this world had with him was something deep and irreplaceable. Something a fake couldn’t fill in.
Jealousy, ugly and bitter and possessive jealousy, sears through you so fiercely and momentarily that you’re alarmed by the feeling.
You blink your eyes, realizing that you hadn’t responded to him in your haze. Your mouth is moving before you can think twice. “It must’ve been scary. But, Caleb, no more shutting me out like that. I don’t...I don’t have my memories of us.” The lie slips out more easily than you thought it could. “But I want to understand you more.” That’s sincere, at least.
He lifts your hand up, pressing a firm kiss on the back of your hand. “I know. I won’t do anything that will ever hurt you.”
Caught up in the surge of your own emotions, you nod. You don’t question that he didn’t promise that he wouldn’t shut you out, or his answer to how exactly he found you. You don’t question any of it.
Because somehow, a part of you is afraid of what might come with those answers: losing your Caleb.
🍏🍎
You peel off your sweaty t-shirt, letting it collapse into a pile on the bathroom tile floor. Your bra comes off next. And then you roll down your shorts, taking your panties down with it.
Caleb had insisted that you take a shower first, even though you were certain that he was in an even worse condition that you in his uniform. You had promised that it would be a quick one and demanded he not touch any of the hotpot ingredients, running into the bathroom to demonstrate your dedication. But you had heard the sink in the kitchen turn on the moment you were gone. Fine, he could be your sous chef for the day.
You crank the faucet on, letting the water pour from the showerhead. You glance at the line of products. One of each. The thought that you were using the same products as Caleb sends a spike of heat through you. You imagine him in the shower, lathering up the soap, and his hands on his firm skin.
You hadn’t seen him without his clothes but you had been in his hold. You had felt him before. Even the heat of his cock, swollen in his pajama pants, pressing against you when you woke up.
You slap the sides of your face. Gosh, you were fantasizing like you were a preteen all over again, and he was the chiseled shirtless model on a magazine cover.
You quickly finish up, slipping out of the shower carefully as to not slip.
And then you realize something that you should’ve checked before you went into the shower. The drawer, which usually was well-stocked with towels, was empty.
You glance at your clothing pile. Sure, you could go through the process of putting everything on again to wander out in search of a towel. But the thought of putting sweat-soaked clothes on wasn’t pleasant.
You crack open the door, taking a nervous peek out.
“Caleb?” you call out, as a test. There’s no response.
The coast is clear.
You inch out, slowly. Surely, there had to be towels in the closet.
You move quicker, about to reach the closet, when the bedroom door swings open.
“You called?”
You freeze in your tracks, snapping your head towards the doorway.
Caleb’s standing there, equally as frozen. His mouth is open, and his face is flushed. You yelp, using your arms to cover your bare breasts.
“What are you looking at?” you protest, and your voice pitches in embarrassment. “Look away! Now!”
He slaps his hand over his eyes, but you notice, with increasing alarm, that there’s something calling for attention. He had changed out of his uniform into more comfortable clothes, and it meant that it was much more obvious in sweatpants that he was hard.
You take a few steps back, your arms still up. Who knows, maybe he had X-ray vision as a secret secondary power?
“Where are the...,” you stammer, “where are the towels?”
“They’re in the drawers over by the tv.” He swallows dryly.
You shuffle over, and as you lean to open one, his voice stops you once in your tracks.
“Can I...come closer?”
Your mouth falls open at his audacity. Your cheeks are blazing again, and you sputter out in confusion.
“Just to show you which drawer it is.”
You sputter again. You open the drawer. No towels. You open another one, even more frantically this time. No towels either. Was he lying to you? To your face?
“Fine!” you huff out.
Swiftly, he’s by your side, his hand still covering his eyes.
“You know, I can’t really see what I’m doing with my eyes covered.”
You reach out, on instinct, to whack him. He catches your wrist before it comes into contact, and you’re startled as you meet his heated gaze.
“Caught you,” he whispers.
You’re too stunned to realize that you’re still completely bare before him. That is, until his eyes dip down. Your eyes flit down, and you notice what’s caught his attention. A stray water droplet from your hair had slipped down, rolling over a flushed perked nipple. And then he’s looking at you, his pupils dilated.
You swallow, dryly.
And then you’re stepping forward, throwing your arms around his neck.
Your lips meet his, sliding against his in a burning intensity that he eagerly reciprocates. Your lips part, and his tongue slips inside your mouth.
His hands slide up your side, and you shudder in his grasp. Your fingers tug at the hem of his shirt. He breaks away, first, and you tingle at the line of saliva connecting your lips.
“Caleb, please,” you whine.
“I...,” his voice is thick, “I still need to wash up.”
You perk up at that. Your fingers dip under his shirt, pressing against his heated skin, and he lets out a soft whimper. The urge to cover him in your scent is almost animalistic. You purr, “I can wash you up.”
🍏🍎
You urge Caleb to tug up his shirt the moment the two of you enter the bathroom. He pulls it off in a quick motion, revealing corded muscles that somehow leave you even more wanting than you were before.
You impatiently tug at his sweatpants, grazing your nails on the happy trail leading down. He moves without verbal instruction, and your mouth goes dry as his erection bobs out of his pants. Flushed and wet with precum, it stares at you intimidatingly. You avert your gaze, nerves alight in your skin. Would it even fit?
You feel the confidence leaving you, but Caleb’s already maneuvering into the shower stall, his fingers turning on the shower head. He gives you a playful, almost cocky, smile, as water droplets roll down his broad shoulders. “Are you joining me again?”
And that image alone has you turning off your brain.
You don’t mind that your already washed hair is getting wet again, not when you have something else you need to pay even more attention to. It’s a tight squeeze in the shower stall, but you don’t mind it, not when it gives you excuse to press your body closer to Caleb’s.
“Can I?” you glance over at the bottle of body wash. That damn body wash, the fantasies that came with it, was what got you in this damn mess in the first place.
Caleb nods. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks like a puppy soaked in the rain. You work the body wash into a lather in your hands before applying it to his body.
He’s sculpted like an Adonis—sharp and chiseled. You can’t take your eyes off of every detail. You almost simper down in insecurity, but then a thought flashes through your mind: This is Caleb, your Caleb, and with the way his eyes are scanning you in an awed manner, you’re almost certain that he’s looking at you the way you’re looking at him.
And then you’re faced with his cock. A bit of mischief plays at your lips. You move a hand down, the lather allowing your hand to slip down his skin, until you have him grasped. Your inexperience almost makes you hesitate, but then your thumb rolls over the tip.
He lets out a soft muffled whimper. “P-please,” he gasps. Your strokes grow in confidence. His hands fall on your hips, and you let out a murmur as he squeezes your flesh a little too hard.
“S-sorry, but I think I’m about to,” he gasps. And then he moans, his hips bucking. His cum spills on your hand before the stream of the water washes it away.
He looks up at you with a bit of shame in his eyes, as if him cumming too quick wasn’t the hottest thing you had ever witnessed. His seemingly lack of experience makes you almost delude yourself into thinking that you’ve captured his first, even though there’s no way, not with him being married to the you of this world. You’re certain that if she was anything like you that she would’ve swallowed him up in a snap.
And then a determination blazes in his eyes. His hands trail down. He has your back pressed into the bathroom wall so the stream of water is hitting only his back as he maneuvers your leg up.
You shiver with the cold. Even though a part of you should be scared of slipping and falling, you feel secure in his hold. His thumb brushes against your protruding clit, sliding easily against your slick. Now it’s your turn to buck into his grasp as he spreads you apart, stimulating your clit as he teases a finger, and then another, and then another, into your pussy.
You reach up to grip his shoulders. Your vision swims with pleasure. He takes the opportunity to lean his head down, laving his tongue across a nipple. Each touch, as if he knows your body better than you do, leaves your nerves on fire.
“C-Caleb!” you gasp. “Mm! Wait, I think I’m g-gonna.” Your voice breaks as you push your hips into his fingers. He continues his pace, and you tilt your head back with a loud moan. You clench around his fingers, pulsating, as you cum. Hard.
You’re limp against the wall, using only Caleb to support you. He’s mouthing at the skin of your neck and chest, leaving marks in his wake. All the thoughts of his inexperience have left your mind.
And then you feel him against your skin. He’s hard again. You spread your legs, staring at him with needy eyes.
“Please, Caleb,” you whine, “Fuck me.”
He scoops you up in one arm, swinging the shower door open. He walks across the bedroom floor, gently placing you on the bed, before he’s crawling over you.
You wrap your arms around his neck, as he spreads you apart. The tip of his fat cock presses against your entrance, spreading you open, and your walls stretch around him as he prods deeper and deeper.
Your mouth opens as you whimper at the intrusion. His teeth bite the nape of your neck, as if he’s staking a possessive claim over you, before a swift jerk of his hips has him buried to the hilt in you. You let out a gasp as his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in slow, steady circles that has your vision swimming.
“Fuck,” you whimper, reaching up to tug his hair. “You’re too big. I can’t...mm...hold on.”
He holds still as you adjust. But his patience begins to wane. He’s whimpering, softly now, and looking into your eyes with those irresistible puppy eyes of his. His hips do slight jerks before he forces them to still, his eyelids lowered in a haze.
“Please, baby,” he whines. Oh, he just looks so pretty like that, pleading for you. “Let me...mm...can I please?”
You suck in a deep breath before you shakily nod. That’s all it takes for something in him to snap.
He’s moaning into your flesh as his hips stutter, and then he’s pounding you. Your eyes roll back and your toes curl at his unrelenting pace, and you rake your nails down his back.
“Caleb, just like that,” you keen. You hook your legs around his waist and grind your hips up, trying to push him even deeper. You want to stake your claim on him, show that he’s entirely yours, melt the two of you down until the two of you are welded together. And he eagerly responds.
You feel a buzz spreading through you, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.
“Oh, I’m gonna cum. Caleb, mm!” You clamp your teeth down on his shoulder, biting down fiercely, as the rubber band in you snaps. You throw your head back, gasping out a loud moan. Your breathing puffs out as you come down from your high.
“Please, baby, can I cum in you?” he lets out a soft gasp as you squeeze him tight in your ectasy.
You nod. You can’t bring yourself to say no, not to him.
He lets out a raspy whine, and he buries himself deep in you, spilling himself in your warm depths.
He looks up at you with hazy eyes, and you smile at him, nudging him towards your lips so that you can kiss him. This time, it’s tender and soft. Loving.
When you break the kiss for air, you feel him hardening again in you.
He looks at you, again with those pleading eyes. A surge of want rushes through you. Your answer is pulling him back in for a kiss.
And it’s almost sickening, really, how much pleasure sears through you at the thought of Caleb being all yours.
The sun has long set by the time the two of you are satiated. You’re soaked with sweat and a mixture of bodily fluids. You hear Caleb leave the bed, the sound of the faucet running, and then there’s a soft warm cloth running over your body.
“Maybe we’ll have to wash up again,” you joke, and your voice, rough from overuse, cracks a bit.
Caleb lets out a low chuckle. “Mm-hm, maybe in a little bit. You should get some rest.”
He pulls out another warm cloth, running it over your face. Your eyes slip close, enjoying the warmth. A wave of exhaustion hits you. You really do have low stamina.
But then a thought jolts you back to consciousness.
“Caleb, the hotpot ingredients! Did you put them away in the--?”
“They’ve been in the fridge.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You sly dog, did you plan t--?”
He shushes you, raising your hand. He presses a kiss on your palm, and the twinkle of your wedding ring catches your gaze. He sets your hand down, but his thumb continues pressing soothing circles into your skin.
“Rest. You haven’t fully recovered yet.”
You let out a grumble, but exhaustion sweeps through you again, its hold even more fierce this time. And then you’re asleep.
When Caleb notices that your breathing has lulled, he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.
And then his cell phone rings from the kitchen.
His eyes narrow at it. Luckily, it isn’t loud enough to stir you from your deep slumber.
He’s careful as he maneuvers himself off the bed and slides the bedroom door shut behind him.
The call’s gone to voicemail by the time he gets to it. He presses the call back button. Whoever’s on the other line picks up immediately.
“Speak.”
“Colonel Xia, I interrogated the doctor from the hospital in Linkon. It seems like her chances of recovering her memory are low, if not zero. But the medicine is critical. It won’t be long before her current memory is overridden, and she forgets everything, permanently, but.”
“Finish your sentence.” His voice is low and authoritative, unlike the soft gentle tone he uses with you.
“This is new technology after all. No one knows what could happen. We don’t know what could trigger a relapse. And if so, there’s a chance her soul will...”
Caleb tsks. “I won’t lose her again. Keep looking for clues.”
He hangs up, clenching his fists around the phone, and splinters in the glass appear underneath his fingertips. His head is hurting again.
His grief, his sorrow, his relief the first time he saw you again. All those emotions rushed through him. Your eyes when you encountered him in that hallway. You hadn’t recognized him then, hadn’t looked at him like you knew him.
But he knew you.
He sucks in a deep sharp breath.
Emotional state detected. Systems will activate in 60 seconds if regulation does not occur.
He finds himself back in the bedroom. Your soft breathing draws him closer, a song that has him spellbound, until he’s curled himself around you. He buries his nose in the nape of your neck, breathing in your smell, his smell, our smell. You murmur sleepily, burying your nose in his chest.
Emotional state regulated. Aborting protocol system.
You’re alive and well, in his arms. Safe. He would never let anyone hurt you again. Not even if that person was you.
A/N: Omg...my bad for the unplanned hiatus...Work got super hectic and I blinked and a month had passed by. This chapter also took forever to write up just because it's been forever since I wrote smut so I hope that wasn't a painful read haha! Hoping for more regular updates but no promises just because 1) each chapter takes a bit to write and 2) I'm going on some trips and am working on a project rn for my job. I hope you guys did enjoy this though! Please leave your thoughts/feedback below--your reactions give me more energy than caffeine!
Waking up in a different world where you have to pretend you have amnesia to get by is one thing. Waking up in a different world where you're married to a complete stranger and have to pretend you have amnesia is another.Yet, this stranger seems to know you well. Too well. And with everything this world seems to be hiding from you, he's the only one you can bring yourself to trust.But when distrust wedges itself between you and your newfound connection with this stranger-turned-husband, you begin to doubt if you can ever find a way to leave this world and return back to yours.
1 the warmth | 2 the smoke | 3 the heat | 4 the blaze
Dr. Zayne has the same exact voice as he did in this body’s memory. You reach out for the remote and turn the volume up.
“Is there any advice that you would recommend to our viewers?” the male anchor beams. The young doctor sitting next to him gives a dry smile.
“Yes, make sure to focus on incorporating regular exercise into your daily routine. Health is not something that you can easily regain once you have lost it,” the doctor—no, Dr. Zayne, you clarify in your head—speaks.
Well, one thing for sure is that the co-anchor was right. Dr. Zayne is handsome. While Caleb is boyishly gorgeous, this Dr. Zayne is a mature type of good-looking that attracts attention, even if he tries to stay on the periphery.
“Now, I suppose this really isn’t the main purpose of this interview, but our viewers are just dying to know. Do you have a special someone that might be watching today’s show?” the anchor presses on.
Anyone would have been uncomfortable with the sudden prying. You lean forward, waiting to hear the answer.
Dr. Zayne looks at the camera, and his lips flatten into a straight line. But even though anyone could have interpreted his look as mild annoyance at the personal question, somehow, a part of you saw it for what it was: sadness.
“It seems if I were to have someone like that to me...well, it would seem that person might have gone somewhere far away.”
For some odd reason, you have a weird gut feeling that he might be talking about you. But what did he mean by that? You were alive and well. Did the two of you fall apart? Or even worst, was this relationship between the two of you just some weird figment of your imagination?
The anchor nods his head then. Based on his awkward expression, you’re certain that it wasn’t the answer he had been looking for.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Dr. Zayne doesn’t even acknowledge the statement. He just gazes away, as if his mind is on a different matter.
Good, you think, a surge of protectiveness boiling in you. That’s what you get for asking an unprofessional question!
“Well, that concludes our interview with Akso Hospital’s Dr. Zayne Li. We’ll be talking about the current rise in Wanderer appearances when we come back and safety guidelines that can help you keep yourself and your family safe.”
When the tv flicks to commercials, you sit there deep in thought. Wrapping your arms around your legs, you prop your chin on your knees.
And then, you go searching for your phone.
You find it charging in the bedroom. You are certain that it wasn’t you who had plugged it in. Most likely Caleb had done so while you were asleep.
You unlock the phone. And then you open a browser. You hesitate before searching for the incognito feature—luckily, it exists.
Akso Hospital Zayne Li.
Articles mentioning his name pop up. It’s in your brief scan of those articles that you see more images of him appear. You even stumble upon a fan page for him by medical students.
One comment reads: I prayed to Dr. Zayne before my exam and got a 100! Tears of blood streamed down my face lol.
Another comment reads: The one time I didn’t pray to Dr. Zayne and I failed my exam...After that I learned my lesson...!
You laugh at that. Well, you could see why a desperate student would pray to him for help. He does seem like the type that would garner a cult following.
And then an idea pops up in your head. You go into your contacts. Maybe he’ll be in there?
But there’s only one number.
Caleb.
Disappointment seeks its teeth into you. Were you just delusional then? Did you make up that memory?
Your head begins to hurt again. You roll a knuckle over your forehead, closing your eyes. Whatever, this isn't for you to figure out. Whatever issues arose between your current body and this mysterious Dr. Zayne was for the original soul to figure out, whenever fate decided that it had enough fun throwing random souls into alternate universes and decided to switch the two of you back your rightful places.
And even somehow importantly, was your only friend Caleb? Sure, you didn’t have many friends in your world—most of them had moved on with their own things after university, and now your socializing primarily consisted of mundane chatter with coworkers twice your age. Did you have no friends here too?
You think of the picture of the you of this world, beaming at the camera with an ease that you could never find yourself carrying.
You scrunch your nose at the thought. For some odd reason, it doesn’t sit easy with you.
Your phone buzzes then with a message.
Did you eat breakfast yet?
You pause. The congee and youtiao are still outside in the living room, basically untouched. You type out a reply.
I got the delivery...but I think I got too invested in watching tv...Why did I look down and it was suddenly cold?
Right after you send the message, his reply comes in quickly.
You can’t skip breakfast.
An apple emoji ends his message, and it looks up at you with a disapproving stare, one hand on its hip. You can almost imagine him in the same position, ready to scold you. You let out a giggle.
Another message pops up from him.
What were you watching?
Your smile slips. Should you ask him?
Your fingers hesitate over the screen for a brief moment. You purse your lips and then type your message out.
Just some news. Heard it’s supposed to be warm this afternoon :D
You sigh and hit send.
His reply is quick: Are you sure you still want to eat hot pot today then?
Your nose wrinkles, and you frantically type out another message: Of course!
Okay...I’ll bring us to our usual spot then. You just wait.
Another message whooshes in.
I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon.
Three dots pop up on his end. And then it disappears. No message comes in. What was he going to say? You shut off your phone. Your stomach grumbles then, a protest that you hadn’t eaten breakfast. Whatever, you’ll just heat up your breakfast.
🍏🍎
Caleb comes home at exactly 2pm. When you go up to greet him, you see that strands of his hair are stuck to his forehead in sweat, and on instinct, you reach up to brush them away.
He stiffens then, slightly. You realize what you did too late and hurriedly pull your hand away.
He grabs your hand then, his hold gentle. “Didn’t mean I didn’t like it. But don’t I smell gross?”
You relax at that, letting out a laugh at that before teasing, “Maybe a little.”
He does an exaggerated sniff of himself and then feigns backing away from you. But his touch is still on you. He’s needy. “Whoa, let me take a shower then. And then we’ll go.” There’s a teasing glint in his eyes.
You laugh again and then take a step closer to ruffle his hair with your other hand. His eyelids lower, and you might’ve seen an imaginary large tail from him thwacking around. “You know, you didn’t have to rush home so early. I’m sure the matters at the Fleet were more important.”
A little part of you is glad that he came home early. Sure, you had always been the independent type—the kind that could spend days by yourself with no one checking up on you, and you were fine with it. But you had gotten accustomed to having Caleb around almost every hour.
“They’re not that important. Not when it comes to you. They can handle some time without me there anyways,” he murmurs, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer, “Snakes always find a way to entertain themselves in the dirt after all.”
You frown. You haven’t heard this kind of language from Caleb before. Sure, he didn't seem like he quite enjoyed his work at the Fleet, with the way his lips always seemed to be pressed in a disgruntled line, but to this extent? “Is it really that horrible there? Can’t you change your workplace?”
He takes a whiff of your hair. “Did you shower earlier? Smells nice.”
You can’t see the expression he’s making, but you have a feeling he’s changing the subject, and you let him. You let Caleb get away with a lot of things. And in this case, maybe work contracts are near impossible to get out of. It’s the same with your real world. Right?
You huff out an exaggerated sigh then. “Mm-hm. And it looks like you should hop into one now. While you shower, I’ll get changed. I’m itching to get outside.”
He laughs and nuzzles your skin one more time before letting go, reluctantly. “I’ll follow your orders, Captain.”
He comes back out when he’s done to you lazing around on the sofa. You had changed into a yellow sundress pretty quickly, and it had been boring waiting for Caleb to be done with the shower. You’re almost about to doze off, and he snaps you awake with a prod on your cheek. You let out a dazed murmur, wiping away the drool at the corner of your mouth, before a familiar scent hits your nose. It’s apple-y and fresh and well...familiar. You think of the green bottle in the shower then and squint your eyes at him. “Did you use my body wash?”
He grins playfully. “Uh, you mean our body wash right. We always use the same stuff. Now come on, time’s a-ticking and I’m getting hungry.”
You roll your eyes at him and feign to roll away from him and onto your side.
“Whoa!” you let out a shriek when you start floating in the air. Your legs are splayed out awkwardly, and you fumble to keep your skirt over your legs. You whip your head back to glare at him. When you notice that his gaze can’t seem to leave the bare skin of your thighs, your glare intensifies.
Right, you forgot that the people in this world had fucking superpowers or Evols or whatever the fuck they called it. And Caleb’s happened to be gravity. Of fucking course. You remember him using it at the hospital when you had almost dropped something and he had stopped it from falling.
What was your superpower then? And could you use it against this man, as much of a menace he is?
He’s already set you in a seated position before you can let out a spiel of curse words fly out of your mouth. Your cheeks are puffed out in annoyance as you begin to wag an angry finger. “Hey, hey, foul play-!”
He lets out a laugh, interrupting your burst. And then he’s grabbing your foot with one hand and tucking it into a pair of sandals that he got from who knows where. Even though you let him, you give him another glare as he fixes the straps in place. When he’s done, he looks up at you and gives you a boyish grin. “Ready to go?”
You have half a mind to continue to be angry at him. But your breakfast really had not been that great when you heated it up and the thought of hot pot—something familiar and comforting—was making your stomach grumble and you really were itching to be outside. And you have a feeling that he might use his Evol to have you float after him to your destination.
Then it seems like he’s remembered something important. He fishes through his pocket and pulls out a sparkling band from his pocket. Your heart lurches at the sight. It’s the ring you hid. Or is it? You see that it’s sparkling new, unlike the one that you had found. “Where’d you get that?” you force the words to leave your suddenly dry throat.
He glances up, and your eyes meet. “Just got it back from the shop today. I guess you already forgot what I told you yesterday.”
You purse your lips, heart thrumming nervously in your chest, as he beckons for you to give him his hand. You move stiffly, and before you know it, the ring is already on your finger. It glints at you, almost mockingly.
“Now everyone will know we’re married.” He dips his head down and presses a soft kiss against the ring. There’s that look again in his eyes. Your heart stutters in your chest—not out of anxiety this time but out of something else. Something you can’t quite understand yourself.
You hop to your feet before he can do anything else, and in a flash, you’re by the front door. Turning back to him, who’s still kneeling on the floor in a daze, you jut your chin towards the outdoors, feigning a mocking grin. “Hurry up, or I’m gonna leave you behind!”
You run off, his laugh echoing behind you, and as you’re about to turn out of the neighborhood, you feel a tug from behind. He’s caught up to you easily.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” he asks.
“Uhhh...” You sheepishly smile. “No.”
He grins before reaching out and grasping your hand. Looping your fingers together, he tugs you to the left. “Can’t have you getting lost. Come on, follow me, Pipsqueak.”
You let a disgruntled murmur out, but you don’t even attempt to take your hand out of his grip. As he tugs you along, you pause and gape. As similar as this world is to yours, this world is also different. The streets are crowded at this time with families and couples and student friend groups, even though this would usually be the time where everyone is away and busy. Despite how high-tech all the buildings surrounding you are, you still let an impressed oo when you stumble upon a vendor selling sticks of candied hawthorn.
You turn and give pitiful eyes to Caleb, tugging on the hem of the casual jean jacket he’s thrown over his clothes.
“You’re going to ruin your appetite.”
You glance at the sparkling crystalized exterior of the candy, fighting back the urge to drool, before turning back to tug on his hem again, more insistently this time.
The vendor, an old man, lets out a guffaw at that. “Come on, young man, you should spoil your beautiful wife.”
You flush at that. A glance at Caleb shows that his ears are tinged red as well. And then a mischievous idea creeps up in your mind.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re pressing up to his side. You notice his eyes flick down towards the gape in your neckline and then flick back up, and his face turns even more red.
“If each of us eat half, our appetite won’t be ruined. Hubby, buy it for me.” You use a coquettish tone that would normally have you throwing up a bit in your mouth (and you do, just a little). But for the sake of your target (a snack), you are willing to do almost anything to have it.
In a flash, the stick of candy is already in your hand, and Caleb has already paid for it. You take a large bite, in awe at the crunch. It’s both sweet and tart. Delighted, you beam up at Caleb. “Thank you, Caleb.”
He nods, and his hand is back around your free hand. You beckon the half-bitten hawthorn up at him playfully. “Wanna try?”
He looks frantic, and you almost feel bad for messing with the guy so much. But then he takes a bite and chews it. “It’s good.”
“Are the two of you recently married? It looks like you’re in the honeymoon stage right now.” the vendor comments. You turn, and your mouth opens, about to answer, when it clamps shut. Right, you don’t know. You don’t know because this isn’t your place. Is it possible to feel like the other woman when the woman in the relationship and the other woman are both...you? You wilt a bit at the thought.
Caleb answers. “We’ve been married for just a few months.” His hold on your hand tightens, and you almost wince, before his hold becomes gentle again. “But even in twenty, thirty, fifty, seventy years, I still will be more than happy every day as long as I’m with her...Even in another word or in another life.”
The vendor looks at him in surprise before letting out a laugh. “Young man, how romantic! Well, I hope the two of you have a prosperous marriage!” He then winks at you. “You have a good catch.”
You bashfully nod at that.
Caleb speaks again. “No, I’m the lucky one.” He pauses. “I worked hard to be with her.”
You feel Caleb’s gaze on you. The skin of your neck prickles with heat, and you know you can’t look at him right now. You tug him away from the stand quickly after bidding a quick thank you to the vendor.
And then you realize you don’t actually know which way you’re going. Again. You turn back to him, your eyes averted. “Um, where’s the hot pot place again?”
“You’re asking me? I thought you were leading the way,” his tone is teasing. You’re about to make a quip back when you hear a shrill scream.
“Wanderer! Help!”
You look up, startled. A crowd rushes in your direction, and before you know it, Caleb’s grasp on your hand has loosened. And your hawthorn candy has fallen somewhere, most likely crushed underfoot.
When you gather your wits, you take a quick look around at your new surroundings. And realize with a rush of anxiety that Caleb is gone.
🍏🍎
You’re lost. Hopelessly lost.
As you grope for your phone, you realize with a groan that you had left it in Caleb’s pocket earlier because you didn’t have pockets. At least one thing was majorly consistent between the two worlds—the lack of functionality in women’s clothing.
You have two choices: stay where you are and hope he finds you or go and try to find him yourself.
But the idea of staying out in the open when there’s a wanderer around...well that doesn’t sit right for you either. A part of you itches to go and find where it is.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re already wandering off. Even though it’s entirely foolish and impulsive and you don’t have any weapons on you, you can’t stay still. Not when you’re almost certain that you could somehow solve the issue.
Key word, somehow.
If only had your gun.
The thought scares you the moment it enters your mind. You hadn't even played with the toy guns back in your world, but here, your fingers itch to find something usually tucked into your side that's missing.
You think back on it—really, you should just go hide and wait for it to be safe and hope that Caleb finds you.
And then you hear another scream in the distance. It sounds inhumane, like it's from some creature. Before you know it, you’re already running towards the direction of the sound in classic horror-movie-character-who-gets-killed-in-the-first-act style.
You pause outside of the alleyway where the scream had originated from. There’s no sound of a scuffle inside it, not any that you can pick up at least. But instead, two voices are speaking. And you recognize one of them. You peek in, cautiously. And immediately press yourself back out.
Caleb’s back is to you. From your brief glance, you can see that he’s speaking with another man, if that term is right. The man seems almost snake-like, with green hair and words that spill out of his mouth in a cruel sss. And there’s bits and pieces of something smoldering around the ground.
You identify it almost immediately, as if on instinct. It’s a protocore.
Even as close as you are, you can’t clearly hear what they’re saying.
“Wanderer...Attack...Plan...Whose idea?” You pick up these words from Caleb.
And then you hear a loud crash, as if someone’s body was flung against the brick wall. You peer back in urgently. The green snake man is gone. Save for a pile of crushed trash cans and for the fact that the protocore fragments on the ground are gone, there’s no evidence that he was in there in the first place. And fortunately, Caleb looks unharmed.
You realize that he’s turning back. Your mind races with thoughts on what to do.
Quickly, you take several steps back before propelling yourself forward. You let your body crash into his as he emerges from the alley.
“Caleb!” you let out a gasp, hoping that whatever emotion is showing on your face looks close to relief. And you are relieved, save for your confusion at whatever the hell that interaction was, “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
He looks surprised to see you. And for a moment, suspicion prickles in his eyes. In a second, that emotion is gone, and he’s looking at you in relief, scanning you to make sure you’re unharmed. “I’ve been looking for you.” His voice is even, showing no indication that there was anything happening. “I’m sorry to dash your hot pot dreams, but we should head home until the wanderer situation is resolved. I’m assuming the restaurant is closing down for the day because of the news.”
If you weren’t on edge, you might have not spotted his eyes glimpse around like he’s checking to make sure there’s nothing around.
You wonder, almost aimlessly, at how bizarre it feels to be lying to this man and to know that he too is lying to you.
But for some reason, you let him lie to you. You have no choice. He’s the only one you can trust. And you want to trust him.
You weakly smile. “Yeah, Caleb. Let’s go home. Maybe you can make those chicken wings again? And we can try again another day?”
He relaxes a bit. For real this time. But the tension is still there in his shoulders and in his grip as he clasps your hand again. You feel the band of your wedding ring pinch, just slightly.
Your smile almost slips from your face.
Home. For you, that word too is a lie.
🍏🍎
You and Caleb don’t speak any further about the wanderer incident. Instead, there’s an evening routine for the two of you, one that you find yourself settling in easily. You flick on what you had termed our show earlier. Caleb has the pieces of a model kit spread on a table. The two of you jokingly bicker when he starts to hog the project, and you pretend to settle in a huff next to him on the floor (but really, you were more interested in watching partly the rest of the episode and partly him focusing in on the airplane model—something about a man locked in on a goal...well, you had to admit it was very attractive).
In fact, he’s maybe too attractive. He’s changed his clothes earlier to a plain blue shirt and sweatpants, and the necklace is hanging around his neck, dangling into the collar. But for some reason, something simple on any other man looks model-like on him. Before you can stop yourself, you’re pressing closer to him, trying to not drool out of your mouth.
He’s not really noticing your sudden shift, not when his fingers are moving at warp speed to piece together the model. Something that should take a week to put together is effortlessly coming together in just over an hour. You look at his fingers. Really, you shouldn’t be this hot and bothered.
You let out a puff of air, blowing a strand of your hair out of your face. And then you settle a coy hand on his thigh, leaning into whisper into his ear. “You sure you don’t want any help?”
He stiffens under your touch. You see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Hmm,” his voice is thick, “And how do you suggest you help?”
You let out a soft hum. And then before you can stop yourself, you’ve pushed his chest back so that his back is against the front of the sofa and swung yourself across his lap so that you’re straddling him. He’s looking up at you, with an almost pitiful look in his eyes that makes you want to tease him further.
“Why don’t you tell me?” you tease, reaching out to cup his jaw with a hand.
And then his eyes sharpen, hungry. They flick down to your lips and linger there. His hands settle around your waist, the heat of his palms searing into your flesh. You lean down, your lips almost a breath away from his and...
The doorbell rings. You throw yourself off him, landing on the carpet next to him with a soft thump. He narrows his eyes at the door.
“I’ll check who it is. Why don’t you take a bit of a break in our room?”
You nod. There’s an edge to his voice, one that he gets whenever it was associated with the Fleet. Whoever it was on the other side of the door—well, whoever it was, they didn’t sound like good news. You’re already closing the door behind you when he opens the front door.
You hear the intruders move into the common room. Caleb’s voice follows them, muffled through the door. “If there’s anything urgent for us to discuss now, it should’ve been a call.”
“Colonel.” A voice speaks. Your ears prickle at the sound. Even though it should be unfamiliar, a part of you almost feels like you’ve heard it before. There’s a tingle behind your forehead, and you close your eyes, trying to focus in on it. “We just wanted to check to see how you were faring. After the incident that happened one year ago and hearing about the amount of leave you’ve taken these past few weeks, we wanted to be...cautious.”
Another voice speaks. “Well, it seems like you’re busy.” It pauses, for a very long time. “Do you have someone else here?”
Your breath gets caught in your throat. You stiffen, afraid to be caught, even though there’s no way for you to be seen. You remember, almost belatedly, that you had left your pair of sandals outside by the front door.
Caleb speaks, his voice low. “No, as you can see, it’s just me here.”
The second voice speaks. Its voice is hushed. “I apologize for the personal question. We’ll take our leave now.” There’s another pause, brief this time. “You know, we never were really able to express our condolences about last year. W--.”
“Time passes. We all learn to deal with it in different ways. I appreciate the concern, but it’s getting late,” Caleb interrupts.
You hear their footsteps creak on the floorboards and then the sound of the front door closing shut.
You back up away from the bedroom door, searching for something to focus on. But before you can do anything, the door opens.
Caleb walks into the room. There’s a stiffness to him. He feels unstable, and his eyes seem murky, like he can’t even see what’s in front of him. And then he sees you.
You step forward, cautiously.
Before you can say anything, he’s advanced towards you. You can’t fully read the expression on his face, but he looks agonized, like a wounded animal. You take a step back, tentative. And then another one. But he keeps chase. Right before he can close the gap, he stops himself. His fingers flex next to him, and you see that his chest is puffing out ragged breaths.
You step forward, this time. “Are you...,” your voice is soft and uncertain, “Are you alright?”
He lets in a shaky breath. “Please,” he exhales. You look up at him, hesitant, and then nod.
And then his mouth is on you. He’s dragged you so that the two of you are pressed firmly together. His hands press against your hips, and his fingers are already traveling up under your shirt. You let out a whimper as he nips your bottom lip, opening up your mouth in invitation, and his tongue enters your mouth.
Something wet splashes against your skin. You stiffen underneath his touch. Is he crying?
His fingers are up against your back at the clasp of your bra. You tremble at the heat of his palm against the sensitive skin of your back.
You’re suddenly moving too fast. You can’t breathe. You reach up and press Caleb’s chest away, but he seems like he isn’t even here with you anymore. You push again, more firm this time, and try to back away. Your right leg twists. You’re falling back, knocking against the wall of plushies.
He breaks away from you just in time to catch you. But it’s too late for the collision—the plushies come tumbling down in a cascade.
You look up at him with teary eyes, your cheeks flushed. “Caleb,” you breathe in air roughly, “Are you alright?”
There’s that look in his eyes again—like he’s seeing you, but at the same time not seeing you. There are dried tears on his cheeks. He’s distraught. And then his gaze clears. He’s seeing you, properly this time.
“I’m...,” he takes a step back, dragging his hand down his face in defeat. “I’m sorry. I...can’t trust myself with you right now. I’ll...I’ll sleep outside today.”
He turns his back to you and is already on his way out of the room.
You reach a hand out. “Caleb, please. Wait, please just explain to me--.”
The door clicks shut behind you.
You drop to your knees, winded. Your head is beginning to hurt again, and that awful pain is prickling again in your chest. And then you catch a glint, one that exactly matches that of the ring around your finger.
You flick your gaze to the door. Did he see it?
And then you hang your head down, burying your face in your hands, and let out a sound that sounds like a fragile mixture of an exhale and a sob.
You can’t keep doing this, can you?
🍏🍎
You wake up, alone in the bed, in the middle of the night. You don’t know how you got to sleep, but you did. When you had stepped out in the living room earlier, hoping to talk to him, you had found that Caleb had disappeared. In that state?
You had called him, but each time, he had let it go to voicemail. You had tried to wait for him, but it had gotten late, and before you knew it you fell asleep.
But now that you’ve heard a sound in the common room, you hastily hurry out of bed. Sure, the middle of the night is never ideal for a conversation, but at least you have to make sure that he returned back safe and unharmed.
You’re about to open the door when you hear a soft murmur through the door. A gasp of your name. A soft, husky whine. And then you realize, your cheeks furiously burning, what exactly he’s doing on the sofa you were sleeping on earlier. You close your eyes, trying to imagine the sight on the other side of the door.
Caleb, his cheeks rosy, with his hand around his leaking cock. Caleb, with his head tilted back, murmuring your name in desperation. Your head is dizzy with your own imagination.
And then you hear a soft grunt and a sigh.
There’s a heat prickling in your gut, not unfamiliar. You force yourself to snap out of it.
You know what, you’ll try talking to him tomorrow. Not now, when the image of a flash of his abs as he strokes himself to completion keeps popping up in your mind.
You hear the floorboards creak under his feet, and then the door of the guest bathroom closing. You hurriedly lay back down in the bed, burying your tomato-red face in the pillow.
You shut your eyes tightly, your heartbeat racing in your chest, as you hear him emerge from the bathroom...and walk by the bedroom door.
You relax, relieved that he didn’t decide to come into the bedroom. Though the bed did seem a little too large and cold without him there, the idea of him, his body heat, after everything that happened today and tonight...well, you just didn’t quite know what to think about it.
You roll onto your other side, reaching out for your phone. The website that you had left on pops open, and Dr. Zayne’s face appears in front of you again.
You click on the Akso Hospital website link. Searching through the directory of doctors, you find Dr. Zayne’s unsmiling picture easily.
Whatever had been referred to as last year’s incident and whatever had caused you to remember this Dr. Zayne (real memory or not), you couldn’t help being curious about. Who knows, you might be of help to the you of this world, whenever she decides to return.
Maybe in finding out more about this Dr. Zayne, you might have an idea of what exactly brought you into this world.
You take another glance at the bedroom door.
And then you hit contact us.
An error pops up the moment the number pops up. You try to press the contact us again, and the screen freezes, not letting you open the page. But when you try to search something else up, your phone acts normal, like it's supposed to.
After several failed attempts, you turn off your phone and set it to the side, frustrated.
You’ll try again tomorrow. And if it doesn’t work then, you’ll just keep trying again and again. But for some sinking reason, you have a feeling that the end result will be the same as it was today.
Futile.
A/N: apologies for the delay! lots happened (including food poisoning...yikes!), so we're steadily recovering... but the pace for this story is definitely amping up in this chapter! I actually wrote half of this chapter pre-food poisoning and the other half post-food poisoning, so hopefully it's not disjointed...I hope you guys stick around for the rest of the ride :D
Waking up in a different world where you have to pretend you have amnesia to get by is one thing. Waking up in a different world where you're married to a complete stranger and have to pretend you have amnesia is another.Yet, this stranger seems to know you well. Too well. And with everything this world seems to be hiding from you, he's the only one you can bring yourself to trust.But when distrust wedges itself between you and your newfound connection with this stranger-turned-husband, you begin to doubt if you can ever find a way to leave this world and return back to yours.
“Whoa!” you let out a shriek when you start floating in the air. Your legs are splayed out awkwardly, and you fumble to keep your skirt over your legs. You whip your head back to glare at him. When you notice that his gaze can’t seem to leave the bare skin of your thighs, your glare intensifies.
Right, you forgot that the people in this world had fucking superpowers or Evols or whatever the fuck they called it. And Caleb’s happened to be gravity. Of fucking course. You remember him using it at the hospital when you had almost dropped something and he had stopped it from falling.
What was your superpower then? And could you use it against this man, as much of a menace he is?
He’s already set you in a seated position before you can let out a spiel of curse words fly out of your mouth. Your cheeks are puffed out in annoyance as you begin to wag an angry finger. “Hey, hey, foul play-!”
He lets out a laugh, interrupting your burst. And then he’s grabbing your foot with one hand and tucking it into a pair of sandals that he got from who knows where. Even though you let him, you give him another glare as he fixes the straps in place. When he’s done, he looks up at you and gives you a boyish grin. “Ready to go?”
You have half a mind to continue to be angry at him. But your breakfast really had not been that great when you heated it up and the thought of hot pot—something familiar and comforting—was making your stomach grumble and you really were itching to be outside. And you have a feeling that he might use his Evol to have you float after him to your destination.
Then it seems like he’s remembered something important. He fishes through his pocket and pulls out a sparkling band from his pocket. Your heart lurches at the sight. It’s the ring you hid. Or is it? You see that it’s sparkling new, unlike the one that you had found. “Where’d you get that?” you force the words to leave your suddenly dry throat.
He glances up, and your eyes meet. “Just got it back from the shop today. I guess you already forgot what I told you yesterday.”
You purse your lips, heart thrumming nervously in your chest, as he beckons for you to give him his hand. You move stiffly, and before you know it, the ring is already on your finger. It glints at you, almost mockingly.
“Now everyone will know we’re married.” He dips his head down and presses a soft kiss against the ring. There’s that look again in his eyes. Your heart stutters in your chest—not out of anxiety this time but out of something else. Something you can’t quite understand yourself.
You hop to your feet before he can do anything else, and in a flash, you’re by the front door. Turning back to him, who’s still kneeling on the floor in a daze, you jut your chin towards the outdoors, feigning a mocking grin. “Hurry up, or I’m gonna leave you behind!”
A/N: Apologies for the delay! finally completed this chapter today but just needs to be reread through quickly! will be out some time later today or Tuesday
I AM OBESSED WITH YOUR ALTERNATE REALITY CALEB FIC ITS SO ONNNMG
Hi, beautiful! Thank you soooo much for the support! I apologize for the delay in getting chapter three out—finals season has been hectic for me! Hopefully it’ll be out end of this week or end of next week :) I’ll most likely drop a preview for it! I hope you keep enjoying and supporting the story then!
Waking up in a different world where you have to pretend you have amnesia to get by is one thing. Waking up in a different world where you're married to a complete stranger and have to pretend you have amnesia is another.Yet, this stranger seems to know you well. Too well. And with everything this world seems to be hiding from you, he's the only one you can bring yourself to trust.But when distrust wedges itself between you and your newfound connection with this stranger-turned-husband, you begin to doubt if you can ever find a way to leave this world and return back to yours.
1 the warmth | 2 the smoke | 3 the heat | 4 the blaze
Dinner is peaceful. Caleb makes braised chicken wings (“My specialty,” he boasts with a wink at you and then with a matter-of-fact tone that shows that he already knows the answer, “I want to see if it’s still your favorite.” Almost annoyingly enough, he’s right. You devour the entire plate). It’s been years since you’ve shared a proper sit-down home-cooked meal with someone. Anyone. Not when your only family member, your grandmother, had passed away a few years ago.
But you don’t bring it up. Even when he spots sauce all over your mouth, rips a paper towel, and hands it to you. It’s a casual act. But you haven’t felt this cared for in a long time. You smile, ruefully, when he tsks and shakes his head at the mess and you hope that he doesn’t notice the sting in your eyes.
These moments are almost enough for you to forget about the slight weight in your pocket. And you do forget about it, at least for a while.
It’s not until after dinner, when you’re back in the bedroom that you share with Caleb, that you remember it. But only because it’s finally dawning on you that you’re going to be sleeping in a bed with a man that you’ve known for just a little over a week. And yes, this man is good-looking and yes, this man has been doting and good towards you, and yes, this man seems like he would’ve already killed you if that’s what he meant to do (like poisoning the dinner).
But you can’t be sure.
Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of him. He is a stranger. And even though the bedroom is decorated more to your taste than his, judging from the exorbitant amount of plushies stacked on the small sofa against the wall, you can’t help but remember that you don’t know him. You’re as much of a stranger to him that he is to you. And the ring in your pocket seems to serve as a further reminder of it.
Caleb seems to sense that you’re about ready to spook. He takes a few steps back and does a little casual shrug even though you can maybe just maybe sense just a bit of hurt in his expression at how guarded you suddenly are.
“I know that this is new to you,” he lets out an almost bitter-sounding laugh. “You don’t even remember me. Or us. You take the bed, and I’ll take the sofa.”
His voice softens, “Just so I can stay close to you. But if...if you don’t want me in here too, then I can sleep outside.”
He’s tilting his head away and averting his gaze, so you can’t even see his expression. Shit. He’s probably making those sad puppy eyes that you always remember him making when he’s trying to hide his emotions. You have a feeling that if you cast him outside to sleep, he’ll end up curled outside of your door like a disgruntled puppy with a cruel owner. You don’t know where all these feelings and instincts are surging from—perhaps they’re remnants of the true owner of this body.
And with a glance at the mountain of plushies on the small sofa that would barely fit him comfortably sitting, you feel really bad all of a sudden. You don’t like feeling guilt. You’ve minimized close interaction with people to avoid feeling it anymore all your life.
You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly. “Look, um, I can sleep outside on the-.”
Caleb whips his head and gives you a fierce look then, almost as if he’s daring you to finish the sentence.
You quickly change your words. “I mean, the bed looks like it’ll be big enough for the two of us. And I mean, you see I get cold pretty easily at night and...and maybe you do too?” You finish half-heartedly and tightly shut your eyes.
You hear him laugh then. You peek an eye open, nervous.
His voice is barely above a husky whisper, and if you didn’t listen closely to him, your racing heartbeat could have drowned him out. “Yeah, I do get cold at night, too. Maybe we can keep each other warm?”
Your face flames up, and the urge to whack him is almost viciously overwhelming, but you hold back. “Wait, I take it ba-.”
Caleb’s already fleeing into the large closet in the bedroom. “Can’t hear you!”
He laughs then, almost as if he can still see you fuming in embarrassment.
In a flash, he’s back out, and he’s setting another change of clothes in your arms. He then reaches out and smooths your hair under his hand. You realize that petting your head—you mean, with a belated realization, his wife’s head—must be his favorite hobby.
You should be used to it by now, considering he’s pat you on the head more times than you can count over the past week. But now, with the realization that yes, you’ll be sharing a bed with this man, and you were the one who suggested it, you feel yourself steaming like a bun heating up.
“Are you going to be staying here to change? Should I leave?” his voice lowers then. His hand trails down from the top of your head, brushing briefly against your flushed ears (you bite back a sharp exhale at the touch; you hope he doesn’t hear it), and his fingers graze the ends of the hair strands on your shoulders.
You come to a second realization then: that this man switches between being elusive and being entirely too close. And for some odd reason, you feel drawn to it—like your feet to the ground, Caleb has some gravitational pull on you.
You flare up then in a burst of rage and jab a finger into his chest, which he playfully winces at. “Of course, you’ll leave. Now!”
He turns away, again with that agitating laugh of his, and you refuse to look over until you hear the bedroom door close behind him.
It’s not until then you let out a sharp exhale. You take a peek down at the set of clothes—it’s a baggy t-shirt that suspiciously looks like it’s owned by a man and fluffy pajama pants.
But you have a bigger task to deal with, one with a time limit. Now that you’re not rushing to use the restroom to throw off any of his suspicions or dealing with a man that boggles you like no one else has ever—besides one other person—you take in your surroundings.
None of the usual hiding spots make sense, not when you aren’t aware of the intricacies of the room’s layout yet. There’s the closet, yes, but what if he decides to do laundry—he seems like that kind of guy—and the ring happens to fall out. That would be suspicious.
And you aren’t familiar with any of the cabinets. What if you choose one and it ends up being the one he uses the most often?
Your gaze then lands on the pile of plushies. They’re precariously set up, in that one brush by would send them all spilling to the floor. But with how well-taken care of they look, that means the times they’ve spilled to the floor is very few.
Caleb knocks on the door then. “Are you done?” his voice is muffled through the door.
“Wait! Don’t come in!” you pause before adding, “I’m still naked!”
“Oh,” you hear from him. And then he’s silent.
You throw a strange look at the door. Is he imagining you naked? But then you mentally slap yourself—of course he has. He’s most likely seen you...or this body naked. Right, you’re in the body of his wife after all.
You shake your head of these thoughts before selecting your target: a swarm of apple plushies in the middle of the horde. And one of the red apple plushies is holding another smaller green apple plushie in its arms. With quick, swift movements that come from a body that has diligently trained to be a hunter, you hide the ring behind the green apple.
And then you’re peeling your day’s clothes off and pulling on the pajamas before scrambling to open the door for Caleb. Whether he notices that you’re slightly out of breath (which you’re almost certain he has), he doesn’t show it.
“I’m sorry, the tag got stuck on my hair and—,” you bluster out an excuse.
He’s staring at you. Not in the suspicious I-wonder-why-you-took-so-long-to-get-changed way, but in a startled, flustered way. A thought briefly passes through your mind on why exactly every single outfit change you’ve done has left him in a similar state. You’re married, right? Why does he still look like a nervous schoolboy getting close to his crush?
And then you narrow your eyes at him. “So I was right...Is this your shirt?”
He averts his gaze, and you’re beginning to pick up that it’s a tactic he uses to avoid answering your questions. But you’re picking up on new tactics to counter it.
You tilt your head and stare at him coyly. And then you take a step forward. He takes a step back. And you both are in this back-and-forth until you’re both out of the bedroom and his back hits the wall of the hallway. You reach up slowly towards his shoulders, peering up at him through your lashes playfully. He’s turned pink, and you can feel that he’s stopped breathing as you move closer until you’re only a hair away from him...
And you pluck off a piece of lint from his uniform, lowering your voice.
“Make sure you change out of your uniform. I’m sure it’s not comfortable.”
You pat his shoulder lightly, give a soft harumph, and spin away, ready to make your retreat.
Before you can fully leave, though, he catches you by the arm and pulls you close, until your back is flush against his chest. You can feel something pressing into your back and calling your attention, though what it is...well, that’s something you’ve shamelessly decided to ignore.
“What you decide to give me...,” he whispers into your ear. The fact that you can’t see what expression he’s making right now almost unnerves you. You hold back a shiver. “I’ll take all of it. Anything that you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it.”
Your heart lurches in your chest then, and you yank yourself from his grip. He lets you go, easily.
And when he sees that you’ve jumped into the bed under the covers and have them pulled tightly around you, like he’s a monster about to steal the blanket off of you, he laughs.
Underneath the safety of the covers, you shiver with agitation and a mixture of other emotions that you can’t fully understand at the sound, grinding your teeth. When he gives the roll on the bed that is you a soft pat as he passes by to the bathroom, you jolt. He chuckles this time, and you hold back a plethora of cuss words.
It’s not until you hear the bathroom door swing shut, and the water turn on that you relax.
Two can play that game. But even though you took the extensive nap earlier that day, perhaps your stamina from being bed-ridden in the hospital has lowered. While waiting, thinking of your malicious revenge plans, your eyes droop shut.
Caleb finds you still curled up in a ball, the blanket over your head, when he comes out of the shower. He nudges the covers down until he can see your face again.
Even though you’re asleep, your nose scrunches at the fresh air and you let out a disgruntled murmur. He stares at you. One second becomes one minute. And then he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. Your face relaxes, and you nuzzle into the sheets like a stray cat.
When he climbs into the bed, he scoops you into his arms. Now that you’re back in his arms, safe and healing, he can finally breathe out a sigh of relief. He presses his face into your hair. Even though you smell like hospital shampoo, underneath that, there’s your familiar scent.
Tonight, you’ll keep his nightmares at bay. Tonight, he’ll be selfish.
🍏🍎
You’re back in the darkness again. Small branches whip at your face, and you can hear the heavy footsteps pounding against the earth behind you. Even though you should’ve been equipped to handle this through your hunter training, for the first time in your career, you feel entirely helpless.
Your gun was lost in the initial scuffle. There were too many wanderers. You had to keep running. That was all you could do.
But you were losing stamina. Even though adrenaline coursed through you, the ache in your chest was becoming stronger and stronger. Your heart pounded in your chest, fiercely, and then it would weaken.
You couldn’t stop now, not when it would mean that they were c-
Pain sears through you when a wanderer’s attack hits your back. You go flying forward into the dirt, and then you’re scrambling to get back on to your feet, even though your vision is teetering into black. Your head is spinning. You don’t know if you can stay up. Your body’s shaking now, as if an external force is being applied to you. You look up and—
You gasp awake. Your pupils are blown wide, and you whip your head back and forth to see where you are. When your vision focuses, you see Caleb’s concerned face looking back at you. You realize that the shaking of your body came from him. He had been the one to wake you up from your nightmare.
You grab onto him, fiercely, and tremble in his arms. Air seems like it can’t fill up your lungs fast enough.
You open your mouth to say his name. But your throat is dry, and your words are stuck. He doesn’t say anything, just holding you close.
You breathe in deeply and let it whistle out between your gritted teeth.
It isn’t until your trembling stops that he finally speaks. “What did you...what did you dream about?”
You think about lying to him. Saying aloud that you’re...that you’re experiencing memories of this body makes it feel real. But it seems like as much as you can hide from him, you have a feeling that you’ve never been able to lie to him before.
“I...I dreamed about the attack. With the wanderers...,” your body sags in relief. You deeply breathe in his scent—fresh soap and something apple-y. “I was trying to run away...one of them hit me in the back. And I couldn’t get up and...”
You close your eyes. Your voice is a mere hush. “I was scared.”
You feel his hold on you tighten, and it’s only when he hears your sharp inhale of discomfort that he relaxes his grip.
He speaks then. His voice is barely above a whisper, but you can hear the fierceness in it. “You’ll never go through something like that again. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
You look up at him. In the dim light, you can only make a faint outline of his face. But you can see his eyes. You reach up and cup his jaw with one hand. He swallows. You swear you can see his eyelashes trembling.
A sudden urge rushes over you. Even though you’re not really his wife, her body is yours, at least for now. Would it be okay then? For you to do this to a man that’s not really yours?
It’s almost too easy to fall into these delusions, of believing that this Caleb is yours. You can pretend that his doting is for you, for the you that currently lives in this body, that his promises are meant for the scarred soul that inhabits his loved one’s skin.
You draw closer, until your lips are a mere whisper away from his. His eyes slip close.
His words earlier echo in your eyes.
Anything that you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it.
Your eyes slip shut, and you press a soft tender kiss on his lips. He responds on instinct, his lips fervent against yours. He reaches a hand up and cups your face, devouring you. It’s almost too much. You push a hand against his chest, shoving him back.
When you open your eyes, breathless, he’s staring at you in a daze.
“Thank you,” tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it.
And then it feels like ice water has been dumped on your head. Guilt claws at you, fierce and biting.
You have no right. One day, you’ll wake up back in your own body, back in your own world, away from all of this. And these nightmares, Caleb’s warmth, this tenderness for this man that seems to grip you whole...they will all be a mere dream.
You move yourself out of his embrace. Your eyes fall down onto the mattress and try to ignore the expression he’s making. He’s hurt. You can feel it. And the words “I didn’t mean it” (mean what? The kiss? That you had hurt him?) almost slip out of your mouth.
But you don’t let them.
You force a smile then, even though you half doubt whether or not he can see it or he can see that your lips are trembling with a wave of emotions that you can’t identify as this body’s or your own.
“I’m sorry for waking you up,” your voice is weak. You resent that. “You should go back to sleep. I’ll be fine. I’m good now. I can fall back asleep now.”
You scooch to the edge of the bed and lay down, pulling the covers over you again and turning your back to him. You almost want to leave the room and sleep on the couch outside, but you had agreed earlier to stay. You feel like you’ve been breaking some unspoken promises between the you of this world and Caleb ever since you’ve come to this world.
It’s silent. Caleb’s silent.
You tightly shut your eyes.
And then you hear the covers shuffle. He slips back under the bed. He doesn’t come close this time. No attempt to close the distance. Not like earlier. You regret it, when really you did get cold at night, and he had been so warm.
You don’t fall back asleep. When an hour has passed, you turn back to face him, and fortunately, it looks like he’s already asleep. Unlike you, he didn’t turn to face away. The covers have slipped from him.
You scooch a bit closer again, careful to not wake him up. And then you nudge the covers up so that it can cover him fully. Before you can stop yourself, you’ve already swept away the bangs from his forehead so that they don’t itch his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
There are other things you should apologize for: that you’re lying to him, that you keep hurting him because you’re scared, and maybe other things that you can’t even put your finger on.
And then you close your own eyes, hoping to get some sleep.
Caleb opens his eyes then. He stares at your sleeping face, and with a soft sigh, he reaches out and pulls you close to him again.
However much distance you put between you and him, he’ll work to close it.
Until you can never doubt him. Not ever again.
🍏🍎
You wake up before Caleb does. When you realize that somehow you ended up in his arms, you can’t bring it in yourself to feel upset. You peer up at him, curious.
The curtains in the bedroom, which had been tightly closed before you had gone to sleep, are open (as if he knew that you couldn’t sleep with any light but hoped that the moonlight would bring you more comfort if you had a nightmare again). You wiggle slightly to loosen his grip on you and peer up at him, curious.
The light of the morning sun falls on his face. You study him. When he’s awake, though he looks at you gently and fondly, there are brief moments where he looks away and you can’t read his mind. Here, while he’s still sleeping, it’s almost too easy to read him.
You notice that he has small faint freckles that you hadn’t realized before, not until now. Or had you already noticed them mindlessly and never explicitly, not until now. And that he sleeps with his lips pressed in a frown and his eyebrows slightly furrowed (why, you want to ask; you know you won’t).
You feel tempted to touch the smattering of freckles on his face with the tip of your finger.
And then you see his lips. Those lips...you kissed them last night. You feel your face warm up at the thought.
“Are you going to keep staring at me?”
Your mouth gapes open in surprise when he opens his eyes. As a reflex, you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep.
A yelp leaves your mouth when he pulls you even closer, though you didn’t know how that was even possible. He presses his head into the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent deeply. You tense up and knock your fist lightly against his back in protest, squeaking out a, “Hey! That’s ticklish.”
“Not pretending anymore?” He laughs, low and hoarse from his sleep. “Good morning, Pipsqueak.”
You feel dizzy all of a sudden, not that it’s because of the sound of his voice. No way. It’s probably because it’s just too hot under the covers all of a sudden.
But you stay still and let him hold you. You think that maybe you should pat his back or something, as a gesture of comfort. Or maybe you should apologize for last night? All these things swim through your mind. But instead, you go with what you’re certain is the most reasonable thing to ask in this type of situation (it’s not), especially when it’s been weighing on your mind (not really). “Is there a reason why you keep calling me Pipsqueak?”
His sigh of contentment is muffled by your hair. You can barely hear him when he answers. “It’s cause you’re cute. I want to carry and bring you everywhere with me.”
And you feel like that statement from him isn’t really a joke, not when he showed you yesterday that he could effortlessly carry you and was more than content with doing so. You give him a look, even though he certainly can’t see your face. As if sensing your disapproval, he clings onto you even tighter.
His phone buzzes then on the nightstand. With a groan, he lets go of you, reluctantly. He gets up off the bed and plucks the phone off the table, answering it. You heave in a deep breath of fresh air now that you don’t have a giant of a man squeezing you breathless.
“Colonel speaking. Yes....,” his voice drops down to a cool tone. It’s completely opposite from the Caleb you’ve been spending the past week familiarizing yourself with. “I’ll be there. Keep them there until then.”
When he hangs up, he looks down at you, his lips tugged in a slight frown.
“Do you have to head out?” you ask.
He nods. There it is again—that kicked puppy look on his face.
“When will you be back?”
He hesitates.
“It’s okay if you don’t know. I guess I’ll just spend my day watching our show,” you grin in mischief up at him. Our show, in this case, referenced a terrible soap opera drama that you and Caleb had put on randomly one day at the hospital. Weirdly enough, the two of you were hooked, though you did have a suspicion that Caleb might have liked it more than you did. But what was even weirder was how easily the word our had fallen off your tongue.
He shoots an offended look at you. “Our show? Without me? Come on, we stopped at a cliffhanger last time too.” And then he senses the playful look in your eyes. A glint appears in his eyes, and he reached out, pulling on your cheek.
“Ouch!” you protest, reaching out of the covers to swat him. He laughs as he lets go. You fiercely rub your swollen face. “You big ol’ bully, Caleb!”
He pauses then. He’s looking at you strangely again. It’s that distant look, like he is seeing someone else in you. Or maybe, he’s realizing that something is off. Different. You wonder—does he know?
“You always did call me a meanie back then. I guess old habits never die.” His voice was soft.
You don’t know what kind of face you’re making. Relief? Disappointment? You pull the covers up more to cover your face. Right, how could he know?
One day, he’ll wake up, and the real you will be back in this body. And you’ll be back in your apartment in front of all those spreadsheets again. All by yourself. Lonely. You should be content with that--that was your original world, your original life, your original place.
“Okay fine,” you huff, hoping that he’ll interpret the edge in your voice as teasing, rather than tensed. “I guess I’ll wait for you. But then what will I do all day here? I can’t just stay inside all day, waiting for y-.”
“You could. That’d be good,” the word tumbles out of his mouth, interrupting the end of your sentence. Your eyes flick back up to him, startled. Now, he looks tense. “You should stay inside when I’m not here. Skyhaven’s safe most of the time, but you never know. A wanderer could attack and you’re not a hunter anymore, you’re--.”
And then he senses that you’re taken aback. He forces a gentle smile onto his face and reaches out to pat your head. But this time, his arm blocks part of your vision, preventing you from seeing the rest of his expression clearly.
“I’ll leave early today. They can’t stop me anyways. And then we can go out to eat. How about that?”
You reach up to nudge his arm down. You press the back of his hand against your cheek. For some reason, though deep down maybe you shouldn’t trust this man, you keep wanting to comfort him. To give him reprieve from whatever ails him so.
He’s quiet now. He’s just staring at you, with that look that you can’t fully understand.
“Don’t worry about me, Caleb. I’ll be here, waiting for you. That won’t change.” You don’t know if the look he has right now...if you’re reflecting the same exact one on your face as well. But you muster a grin then, hoping that it’ll cover up your vulnerability. “And maybe if you come early enough, we can go eat hotpot?”
He runs his thumb against your bottom lip. He leans his head down, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, right by your lips. Your lips puff out in surprise. “I’ll be home soon.”
🍏🍎
You sit in the living room in a daze, your fingers still pressed against the spot on your face where he had kissed you. Sure, the two of you had kissed last night, but it was impulsive, at least on your end. Was this kiss because he was impulsive?
The bowl of congee and youtiao in front of you remains forgotten. Caleb had sent the order in before he had left. This time, you had remembered to pick it up when the delivery driver knocked on your door. But with how your mind was whirling, you weren’t sure if you would remember to eat it.
You glance up at the clock. 10:07am. Caleb had said he would be back at 2pm. You feel kind of sorry—he hadn’t even known what time he was going to be back earlier, but the moment you expressed some wish of going out on your own, he had planned on taking half the day off to accompany you. Probably to prevent you from getting hopelessly lost or in danger.
Something nudges in your mind again. It was present when you were in the hospital, during those brief moments when Caleb wasn’t by your side. And it seems like the feeling keeps coming back the moment he leaves. You try not to think about it.
Honestly, in your other world, this was the type of life you had always dreamed off—no deadlines to worry about, no coworkers to deal with or bosses to please, no worries about whether or not you’ll be able to pay for both next month’s rent and groceries.
You turn on the tv.
News comes up. This world mirrors your own, almost exactly. If it wasn’t for the futuristic bent to it or monsters lurking around in the shadows, you would have assumed that it had been a simple ctrl c and ctrl v that created this world. You watch as the anchor beams about the sunny weather coming up at the end of this week before launching into the next news segment.
“We have an exclusive interview with a young and brilliant cardiac surgeon at Akso Hospital coming up next. He’ll be bringing us news about a condition rising among the younger population and advice on preventative care.” The news anchor claps his hands in delight. “Be here with us then to welcome Dr. Zayne!”
The other anchor beams even brighter. “Oh, I’ll be looking forward to that! Not only is he brilliant, he’s handsome too.”
A small picture pops up at the bottom of the screen of the man. The other anchor nudges her, spinning back a witty remark. You don’t hear it.
The name echoes in your mind. It sounds familiar. Too familiar.
Your head is pounding now. You reach up, cradling it. Your eyes are glued to the image: a dark-haired, green-eyed man stares coolly at the camera.
You close your eyes as the pain increases. Your heartbeat is beating irregularly in your chest now. You inhale sharply, hoping the intake will give you some relief. It doesn’t. But you still fight anyways to stabilize your breathing.
A voice plays in your ears. It’s a smooth levelled voice.
“Be careful with your heart. It’s an unstable condition. We don’t know when it’ll flare up.”
You hear another voice speak. It’s your voice this time. Or at least it sounds like your voice.
“I got it. I’ll be careful. Besides, it hasn’t acted up once when I’m on a mission.”
That man’s voice speaks again.
“You’re being too reckless with your body again. Just be careful, alright? I won’t be able to be here all the time to help you.”
You hear yourself speak.
“Okay, heard loud and clear. Don’t worry too much about me. Caleb already worries enough for two people combined. I can’t have a third worrier too.”
You huff in a deeper breath as the throb in your head begins to ease. Your heartbeat thumps at a regular pace, almost as there was nothing off about it in the first place. You feel winded, even though you hadn’t left your spot on the couch.
You look back at the tv screen. Instead of clicking off to the next channel, which you usually would, you decide to stay and watch. After all, you have to find more out who that man is. You have to.
A/N: the love and support I got on chapter 1 was INSANE! thank you guys so much :) I read each and every one of them and will start responding more now but it's looking like i cleared one hurdle in the semester only to be sent off to the trenches lol! I'll try to get started on chapter 3 soon! But my inbox is always open for any requests/comments!!
reversing the roles from the xavier fic but writing about caleb releases a different kind of feral from me (why are the vibes so different between these two works lol!)
warnings: feral behavior, abusive themes, possessive tendencies, graphic mention of violence/death, a bit of religious blasphemy, is he really a yandere in this tho? (answer is yes), 18+ only
caleb, who despite being a small child himself is forced to do the most menial, laborious tasks in the kitchens of the palace, escaping for a breather with stolen food in his clothes and encountering you in gardens for the first time. even though you're weeping into the sleeve of your gown, snot soaking the fabric, you still look like a precious doll. he immediately is captivated. he can't bring himself to say anything though, not when he's covered in dirt, and so he watches you from afar. when you leave the gardens, you find a shiny polished apple placed on a ripped piece of fabric. caleb, hidden in the bushes, sees the bright smile that washes over your tear-stricken face.
caleb gets beaten, though, when the cook finds the tear in his clothes and the ingredients missing in the kitchen. but when he thinks about you taking the bite of the apple and wiping away your tears, he grits his teeth together and endures.
caleb, who's spent his entire childhood yearning after you ever since and working hard at knight training to rise in the ranks. even though he knows he can't marry you, at least he can protect you. years later, when your kingdom is at war, you come out and give a speech to rally up the troops. you're more beautiful than he remembered. but when your sleeves droop down and he spots a bruise on your skin, his vision almost goes red. it's then that he vows to himself that he'll protect the kingdom first and then destroy it with his own hands.
caleb who gets promoted with a nobility title after his contributions in the war. he loses his right arm in that battle, and a wooden limb replaces it. even though the other nobles jeer at him and curse him under their breath at the homecoming banquet, he doesn't pay them any attention. he's paying attention to only you. the king shows you off like you're his most prized possession. you don't look happy, even though you're pretending to smile. caleb knows that. caleb knows you.
caleb who hears about the king planning on selling you off to the highest bidder for your marriage (it's a king about his own age whose three previous wives have already died). he knows that the people are growing discontent with the king, with the nobility. he joins the rebellion then. it's treason, and he'll be branded as a sinner and killed if he's caught. but he's never been a rational man, not when it comes to you.
when he beheads the king with his own sword, you're cowering in front of him, begging him not to kill you as he comes closer. how could you ever think he would kill you? he lo-
caleb who doesn't know quite sure what love really means. he didn't grow up in a world where fairy tales of love had ever existed--at least not the innocent good ones. but the bad ones, where the evil are grotesquely punished and the good are rewarded with their deaths, that he knows of. and if this is your fairy tale's happy ending, he's satisfied that he's been able to give it to you.
he can't bring himself to touch you with his right arm. not when the pain in it serves as a reminder of how low he is and how precious you are. not when it's covered in that bastard king's blood. but what he can do is this. he brings himself down to his knees in front of you, reverent, seeking only one answer from you. when he hears it, he knows his prayers will have been answered by the god that he's sworn to himself he has never once believed in. but maybe that god is you and has always been you.
"will you let me protect you? will you let me wed you?" he whispers. he reaches out his left hand (it's clean, not bloody), hoping you'll take it.
when you take his hand, he understands from it that you have accepted.
and it doesn't matter that it might be fear that pushes you to answer 'yes', that you might believe that you are leaving from the confinement of one wicked man to another, either way, he'll protect you. he'll keep you safe from every evil that seeks to harm you.
in him, you will find a haven away from the wicked. in him, you will find paradise.
synopsis: sylus has always been aware of other people's desires, long before they reveal them. but for today, it seems like his own birthday desires have appeared in front of him before he's had the chance to reveal them himself.
in other words, what if reader turned into a cat for the day? and somehow learned that there was more to Onychinus's leader underneath his arrogant exterior.
qin che | sylus x mc!reader bday drabble
Sylus doesn't care much for his birthday, not when it's served as a reminder of his own isolation from humanity. Others were sung to; they blew out candles on a cake and were gifted presents from their loved ones. And if he were born like any other human, perhaps that would have been the same for him.
But from his birth, he had believed his fate was predetermined: he lived alone; he would die alone.
At least, that was what he thought before he met you.
Even now, all these years later, although those old memories of we and us have long left your mind, he still finds that somehow, your presence has served as a reminder that he could reverse his own fate. And with that, he could one day reverse yours. Sylus has always been confident in that. Unshaken.
Yet, it seems like fate works against him. You still don't trust him. You fear him. You are repulsed by him.
And despite having lived his entire life untrusted, feared, and found repulsive by other humans...he finds that it rattles him the most to be experiencing those emotions from you.
"Boss! Happy birthday!" Luke and Kieran burst into his room, this time with sparklers--a fire hazard since it happens that they always choose the inside of his room to be the setting for their "surprise".
It's the twin's 18th attempt this month, and maybe he should let them know that today, for the first time that month, they're correct. As he considers it, Luke thrusts a cardboard box at him.
"What's this?" he quirks an eyebrow.
Mrow.
A fluffy round cat peers out at him. Despite the fact that those of the feline race are typically unable to convey human emotions, it's clearly looking up at him with what he can define as sheer disgruntlement. And that look...is somehow familiar.
The cat pounces out of the box with a soft mrrw, bounding away with the intent to hide underneath his sofa. But before he knows it, he's already used his evol to pull the cat back into his embrace. The cat lets out a hiss of annoyance and swats at him, but he notices that its claws are retracted. Clearly, there's no real attempt to hurt him.
"Look, Boss likes our gift!" Luke laughs, elbowing Kieran.
As Sylus peers down at its grumpy face, he thinks of a familiar hunter then. Its shiny eyes are the same exact shade as yours. And its fur matches the color and texture of your hair--soft, his right hand moves thoughtlessly towards the plump belly.
Mrow!
The cat lets out a fierce hiss this time, puffing its fur out until its double the size, and does another swat at his hand, this time with its claws out. He retracts his hand. The cat is fierce, just like that hunter. And it looks at him with a look that goes Don't you dare touch me!
An incredulous thought rushes through his mind just then. He makes eye contact with the cat again. Fully, this time. He knows those desires. He's always been able to see them, to feel them, to predict them.
"Now, now," he chuckles, almost out of a disbelief, "Is a little fierce kitten going to tell me how she exactly found herself in this state?"
When the cat--or in this case, you--turns to give a ferocious look at the twins, both Luke and Kieran roar out in laughter before turning and high-tailing it out there.
🐈🐉
An hour ago...
There really was no reason for you to be back in the N109 Zone. Your mission was clearly over. And yet, curiosity brought you back. Perhaps, it was out of curiosity--after all, you did want to test out the new ride that Sylus had casually mentioned last time. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because you had heard from the twins very recently that Sylus's birthday was some time this month and you might have been nervous that you had missed it. Just maybe.
When you had pressed the twins for more information, they had given each other a look that spelled trouble. And you really should have been more distrustful when Luke had given you a bottle and a sly wink. "Try it before you visit next time."
Kieran added. "It'll give you courage and then you can ask Boss any questions then, with no worries."
There was no way you were going to drink it. At least, until the thought of asking Sylus a question like "When's your birthday" had you feeling a little queasy from nerves (why? you had no clue), and maybe you were just a tad curious about what the twins meant about this drink. They wouldn't poison and kill you, right?
And when you had been in the N109 zone nearing Sylus's place, perhaps you had tried it then, and then you had started feeling dizzy. When your vision cleared back up, you found yourself much lower on the ground, on all fours, and...furry? You had looked up, making direct eye contact with the twins who had somehow appeared and looked like they had been waiting for you, and then you were scooped up into a cardboard box.
And now you were here, sprawled out on the lap of the leader of Onychinus. The twins had been caught by Sylus soon after they had fled and then dragged back. His evol kept them still, but you could still see their eyes shifting around as if they were trying to figure a way out.
"Now, is one of you going to tell me what happened?" he spoke. He was petting you now, though whether or not he was aware of doing so you couldn't quite tell. It felt nice, that you had to admit, and your eyes drooped shut in contentment as he stroked the back of your ears. And perhaps your small body was now rumbling with something that you couldn't quite control.
"Well, Boss...we didn't quite know what would happen. We just thought it was a little gag, you know, to give her some courage to ask you whatever. A placebo effect, I mean how were we supposed to know that could even happen...," Kieran spoke.
Before he could finish his statement, Luke burst out with a, "Well, it was his idea!"
Kieran swiveled to stare at Luke. "What are you talking about? It was your idea?"
They had begun squabbling now.
"Enough."
One word from Sylus had both of them falling quiet.
"Now, are you going to tell me if it'll be fixed?" Sylus's voice had lowered, until it sounded almost threatening, "And whether it'll harm her?"
The twins shook their heads frantically, and their voices synced up in their panic. "It'll wear off in 24 hours, that's what the label says! She'll be back to normal, we swear! No harm, no foul!"
Sylus did eventually let them go, but whatever punishment he had given them, you weren't fully aware of. It was easy to get sleepy in this body. After all, you had used up most of your energy earlier tussling around in the cardboard box and then trying to escape.
When you woke up from your long nap, you noticed that he had somehow fallen asleep too. But even in his sleep, his hand still rested on your back, covering up almost your entire body.
You took that time to stare up at him. It was weird. Even though you were smaller and more vulnerable now, this big scary man didn't seem to look...so big and scary anymore.
He had been worried about whether the liquid you had drank would hurt you. And though those twins were closer to him than you were, he had still punished them on your behalf.
You blinked, slowly. Maybe he was more caring than you thought.
"Are you bored now? Or is your favorite hobby now looking at other people while they're sleeping, Kitten?" his eyes remained closed as he spoke. And then he opened them.
You noticed belatedly that his eyes weren't red, at least it wasn't the red that you were used to. It seems like, as a cat, you couldn't quite see the world like you did as a human. In maybe more ways than one.
Mrw!
You made a sound of disagreement. He chuckled then, low.
"Well, I suppose you now live up fully to the name. A ferocious hunter has become an even more ferocious hunter."
You stayed silent then. Any reaction from you would just spur on more mocking from him. You take it back--maybe he is just a big bad man with a penchant for getting on your nerves.
"The twins said earlier that you drank it to...what, give you courage?" he paused, "To ask me what?"
Well, it wasn't like you could tell him that it was because you wanted to ask him when his birthday was, which really, was the most normal question anyone could ever ask and didn't warrant all these feelings of embarrassment and nervousness. Hell, taking down wanderers should've been more nerve-wracking than this, and you did that every day with ease. And besides, you were a cat. How were you supposed to even speak?
You then spotted the sparklers that the twins had dropped in their first mad scramble out of the room. You stared at the burnt sticks and then looked back up at Sylus and then looked back up at the sparklers. And then you looked back up at him and stared really hard.
"Ah...you wanted to know my birthday?" he was back to patting the back of your head now. You flicked your ears, feeling itchy all of a sudden. If only he could just scratch right there... "It's April 18th."
You swiveled your head to stare up at him. Today?
As if he heard you, he nodded. "Today."
You didn't even prepare a cake or anything. Or even a gift. And where were you going to get all of that now that you were stuck in this body for the rest of the day? You cursed out the twins in your head.
"You don't have to worry about anything." Again, he read your mind. "I don't have anything that I want for much."
You looked at him incredulously. Sure, he was wealthy and could buy whatever he wanted that existed in this world. But surely, there was something that his money couldn't buy.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly. There he goes, mind-reading again. And then he spoke, softly, "It seems that this year...my wish has already come true."
You squinted your eyes at him. What wish?
He chuckled. "Well, it's my first time spending the entire day with someone. It makes it feel special. As much as it seems like you hate your current predicament, I seem to find it quite the opposite. After all, isn't it quite fortunate for me then to have you spend today with me?"
You bumped your head against his hand. He stopped petting you then, and you rubbed your head against his hand. You then looked back up at him. Well, then I'll find this situation not too bad then.
He stared at you. There was something in his gaze, something that you couldn't quite decipher. It was something you had never seen in him before.
"Yes, it's not too bad then."
You let out a rumble, mimicking the closest sound to a laugh that you could with your current limited vocal cords. Happy birthday then! I'll spend the next 22 hours in your care.
A sly smile furled at his lips. "Just for the next 22 hours? Not even a second longer? Am I that detestable to you?"
You batted a paw at his hand. Keep talking, and I'll shorten it. You have 21 hours now!
He laughed, a true laugh, something that you hadn't heard before.
"Alright, alright, Kitten. I'll be careful with my words."
You blinked at him, slowly. Perhaps, you were right. Not about him being a big evil man. But about there being something more to him. Perhaps, he wasn't what others had made him out to be--cold, unfeeling, merciless, willing to get his hands dirty.
But those were thoughts you could save for later. You just nudged his hand back closer to your head. Now, scratch a little more to the right.
--
Extra:
Now that you were back on your two legs, you had set out on a tight agenda. First, you had yanked the ears of both the twins together as punishment, and then you set them off on a mission: distracting their Boss.
Sure, you didn't know what flavor of cake he liked and because of that maybe your hours in the kitchen trying to form a dragon out of red fondant was a waste of time, and maybe the crow feather ring you had gotten was a little too on the nose.
When he opened the door to his room, this time, it was you jumping out at him. You brandished your creation, all lit up with candles.
And as you sang to him, insisted that he make a wish, presented his gift with a grand voila, and insisted that he try a bite out of the fondant dragon (you knew it tasted disgusting and let out a roar of laughter when his nose crinkled), you saw the edges of his mouth curl up.
"What did you wish for? It's different from the wish you told me before right, it has to be. That wish already came true," you had asked him. "Wait no, don't tell me! It won't come true then!"
He was quiet for a bit. And then he looked at you, again with that indescribable look in his eyes. "It seems like my wish has already started to come true."
A/N: did not plan on writing this at all since I really should be working on chapter 2 and studying for exams so this is rushed lol...but the urge to pull for this banner and the gem poverty that holds me back...well I guess that impulsive energy has been converted into this instead haha! and I guess despite me not being the biggest fan of fluff, I decided to write it for our big grumpy softie of a dragon. we'll be back to our regularly scheduled dark themes soon :p
just read your caleb fic and safe to say i need like more chapters
it’s just too good 🙈
hi, cutie! :') I'm glad you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 should hopefully be, fingers crossed, released this Sunday (or Monday depending on where you are). I'm about halfway through working on it, but I also have a major paper deadline coming up that I also have to focus on haha (but why is it that I'm spending more time writing this fic than my paper, oops!)! I hope you enjoy reading chapter 2 then!
When the Dawn Hesitates, the Light Trembles | Oneshot
shen xinghui | xavier x reader
synopsis:
Despite growing up as close companions from childhood, you've always been attuned to the difference in status that separates you and the prince. And yet, as rational as your mind is, your heart on the other hand is an unruly beast that you cannot fully control. With his wedding and departure to a foreign kingdom looming on the horizon, the question still remains on how you'll let go of your feelings and live in a future without him. And if he's willing to do the same.
tags: childhoodfriends!au, royalty!au, mild? angst with a fluffy ending (this is probs the fluffiest/non-dark themes this blog will ever see), unrequited love that's actually requited, prince!xavier x knight!reader
word count: 6.5k
a/n: thank you everyone for the support for the first chapter of my caleb fic! here's a oneshot that was actually written for my friend's bday as evidence that I also write for the other LIs hehe and a throwback to my days writing royalty!aus on tumblr! :> as always, please feel free to send in asks/request!!
You had encountered the prince for the first time as a little girl. He was quiet with the maturity of an adult, despite only being a year older than you. Your mama was his wet nurse. It was only natural for her to introduce you to him.
You remember that your first thought was that he was beautiful—the light of the early spring sun had casted his hair silver, and his eyes were the shade of blue you had heard about only in the fairytales your mama had whispered to you before you fell asleep. He looked exactly like the young prince in the one book your older sister had pointed out when you had passed the bookstore in the square.
You remember pointing at his hair and shouting, “Look, his hair glows like light!”
His gaze, which had looked uninterested, suddenly turned to look at you. Those blue eyes came to life then, and something had shown in them that you, back then, had viewed as mockery rather than amusement. “Is it always your first instinct for you to comment on others’ appearances?”
With a burning heat to your face, you had realized that he was teasing you. You had glowered at him then, and in a fit of childish immaturity, you grabbed a fistful of dirt from the ground and flung it straight onto him. Not your best moment.
Now, many years later, you don’t really remember how your mama spanked your butt red that night and how you had sobbed and said you’d never do it again and how she had forced you to kneel and apologize to the prince and then reverently express gratitude when he had just shrugged it off, when really he had the right to kill of your entire family.
But you do remember how his skin had turned red in his fluster, how his hair still glowed despite the dirt, and how his lips had twitched in agitation. You remember how his eyes had still dazzled you then—emotion, even if it was surprise, had made them a startling azure. These were all things you would always remember, for however long time would pass.
You wouldn’t ever dare say any of these words aloud to anyone. No, these were memories that only you were the keeper of, that you were certain of.
🌙✨
“Haven’t you heard? The King has sent out a declaration that Prince Xavier is getting married!” a maid clamored, as she rushed down the hallway with her friend.
“To who?” her friend gasped.
“To the princess of the neighboring Lucis Kingdom. Oh, I heard she’s a beauty! A perfect match for our prince! He deserves it, after he won over those hordes of wanderers at our border and made a glorious return!”
Her friend tittered in response. “My, perfect might be too strong a word! I bet even a fair princess would have difficulty trying to enthrall our unfeeling prince! I doubt he knows anything beyond the sword.”
She was the first to turn the corner of a hallway, when she collided into a force. “I’m so sorry—,” she was in the middle of her words when she looked up. Her mouth fell open, and her face flushed a bright red.
You had the unfortunate pleasure of being the wall that the maid had bumped into. And, as she probed your face to determine whether you had heard what she had just said (which you had), you opened up your mouth and slowly spoke, “I would be cautious of the words we say aloud in the palace, just as much as we are to be careful while turning the corners.”
The maid looked like she was cowering. But really, you thought, for what reason?
Yes, it was true that you were infamous in the palace for your quickness to anger, especially when it came to the prince. When the royal seamstress had said that Prince Xavier looked less flattering in red, you had threatened to use the blunt edge of your sword and destroy her supplies. But in all honesty, with how calm you had sounded, there really was no reason for her to be looking at you like you were some smoke-breathing dragon.
The maid quickly bobbed her head up and down in agreement. And then her gaze fell to the person behind you, and her face paled white like a sheet. “G-greetings, Y-Your Highness!” she jolted straight up before quickly falling into a bow, and her friend quickly followed her.
You peered around your shoulder, and when you saw a familiar presence lurking behind you, your mouth flattened into a straight line. “Your Highness,” you said flatly, bowing your head down.
He held your gaze, firmly. Your mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and you felt your face redden. This damn temper of yours! And he overheard it all!
But the two of you grew up together. He must’ve been used to your bouts of anger, even now. You don’t even know why you felt heat crawling up your neck. You turned your head away in indignation.
His eyes travelled beyond you to the two maids, and he nodded once. “You may go.” His tone was disinterested, and the maids hastily bowed again before scurrying away past him.
When they left, it was just the two of you left in the hallway. It was tense, and you felt yourself ready to run away, right behind the maids. You tipped your head and was about to turn away when-.
“I didn’t know you still defended me.” His voice was softer this time, unlike the more frigid tone he had used with the maids. “Are we still friends then, I presume?”
Your lips pursed. Memories of last night flooded through your head. You downing the pint of ale. You furiously pointing a finger at him and shouting at him how he could have been so foolish to have thrown himself at you to push you out of the way during battle and get hurt by the sword of the wanderer when it should have been you protecting him and not the other way around. Him yelling back at you—though, what he said and what happened after, your mind could barely remember over the jumble of your brain buzzing with alcohol and anger. You just remember waking up the next day, head pounding and vowing to never drink again.
And here he went again, with that cursed word. Friends. How could you ever be friends? He was a prince, and you were just some lowly ranked girl whose only luck was that her mother had raised him at her bosom. Other than that, you were nothing. You had only your knight title. Nothing like the precious princess of a wealthy kingdom.
You were about to bite out a vicious comment that reflected something along those lines, but something stopped you from spewing out the first vowel.
He would be leaving soon after his wedding. He didn’t have to stay in this kingdom, not when his older brother was already set to sit on the throne. And you wouldn’t follow, not when it would tear you apart to see them together, to keep seeking above your station when you knew it was unfeasible. So friend, that horrible ill-fitting term, you would hold onto until you couldn’t. You felt yourself wilt in response, and you were certain he had picked up that something was odd about you today.
So you sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Friends, if you can say that, Your Highness.”
The corners of his lips tugged up in amusement. “So you’ll stop calling me Your Highness then? You know my name. Use it.”
Your mouth was dry all over again, and you felt like you were going to heave all over the floor. It must’ve been the leftover ale brewing in your stomach. It must’ve.
You forced a smile. It probably looked menacing. “People will overhear, and it’s not good for someone like me to be calling you by your name when you’ll be mar-.”
His gaze remained steady.
You swallowed. Fuck.
“Is it an order?” you murmured. Your rude tone, if the head palace maid had heard you, would have sent you straight to a flogging. But Prince Xavier, aside from when you had thrown dirt on his head as a little girl and...and last night, was magnanimous. Nothing could unsettle him, well...maybe except for you.
You did remember that time one of the other knights-in-trainings had been spewing insults about your background and yes, you maybe thought then about swinging your sword down on him (blunt or non-blunt side unconfirmed) but you wouldn’t have done it, not when it would have put your own position as a trainee at risk and left you unable to stay by Xavier’s side.
Xavier had been different though. He had challenged that knight-in-training in a duel during practice and left him black-and-blue. And then that trainee had somehow been removed from the ranks and ended up leaving back to his hometown.
But maybe that was all just wishful thinking on your part.
Hearing no response, your eyes shifted back to him briefly. He just stood there, looking almost pitiful. And it seemed like he had turned slightly so that the bandaged part of his arm was even more obvious to you. A prince? Pitiful? You could guffaw in amusement.
You let out a long sigh.
“Xavier,” your voice was barely above a hush.
He gave you one of those rare smiles of his, the kind that had you breathless as a little girl and breathless even now. On days when he did smile at you, you could never fall asleep. Whenever you closed your eyes, you would see his smile and the way his blue eyes had shone. Oh, tonight would be no different.
You needed fresh air.
You swiftly turned on your heel and headed out towards the pathway to the gardens. His footsteps sounded after you, even as you quickened your pace. But let him follow you—it wasn’t any of your business what he was up to in his free time. And honestly, you didn’t even have a destination in mind.
As the sun warmed up your skin and the smell of flowers sweetened the air, you felt yourself reminiscing. These days would be long gone soon. It was already against propriety for the two of you to still be this close, especially after both of you had come of age. Maybe, maybe it would be good for you to leave all of this behind when Xavier left. So that you didn’t spend the rest of your days an old bitter hag surrounded by reminders of the past.
You were lost in your thoughts as you ambled your way. You were about to take a step forward when you felt a tug at your sleeve, and suddenly, you were falling back. Your back hit a firm chest, and you winced at the collision.
“Ow! What’d you do that for?” you grumbled. You turned your head back, about to bite out another complaint, but your mouth hinged open when you realized that your face was much tooclose to his. You could see the flecks of light blue in his eyes, the way his light-colored eyelashes were trembling, and the slight reddening tint to his skin. He was somehow warmer than the spring air, his body heat seeping against your back. And he smelled like soap and something deeper that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
You turned and pushed him away by the chest, stumbling back and crashing right into the trunk of a tree.
As you swore under your breath, you heard the sound of laughter. You looked over, irritated. He had his finger raised, pointing right behind you. His other hand attempted to cover his face but you could catch a glimpse of his smile.
“You were about to bump into a tree. I was trying to,” he huffed in a shaky breath, “to stop you from falling.”
Your mouth opened in protest, and you swiftly clamped it shut. Some knight you were. You could take down wanderers of any size and difficulty, but a mere tree was apparently your biggest opponent.
And suddenly you were laughing now too. All the anger, resentment, and bitterness from earlier seemed to fade away. You didn’t think of the past. You didn’t think of the future, of him wedding a beautiful princess and raising heirs with his silver hair and her colored eyes, of you never seeing him again for the rest of your lifetimes. All you thought that it felt good to be standing here with him.
🌙✨
The queen was a beautiful woman. With her long silver hair coiled up in an intricate hairdo and her silver eyes, she looked like a celestial beauty that had fallen onto earth in a gown of deep blue. You could see that Xavier had gotten his looks from her. But while Xavier had the mild temperament of the King underneath his seemingly cold exterior, the Queen was all fire and ice.
“Your Majesty,” you kneeled down onto a knee in a deep bow. She was silent for a long time, taking a long sip of tea from her cup. It was one of the petty tricks that she often played when she was displeased. But you were a knight—what was kneeling on a plush carpet for a little bit compared to sleeping on the cold ground of a forest, unable to rest properly in case a wanderer appeared?
After a seemingly endless time passed, you heard her set down her cup. Her voice tinkled out like bells. “Rise, Dame.”
You rose to your feet. You kept your head bowed.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a good look at you,” she spoke, “Raise your head.”
You tilted your head up but kept your gaze lowered. She hummed out. You could hear the bracelets that adorned her wrists clinking together as she tapped a finger thoughtfully onto her bottom lip.
“You’ve become more beautiful these years. One wouldn’t expect you to be born from a mere commoner. Even unwomanly duties such as knighthood have not tarnished you.”
“This lowly servant is not worthy of Your Majesty’s praise,” you spoke, as you lowered your head again. You felt unsettled. Compliments from the Queen always had another purpose.
“Hush, child. I can see why even my son has softened towards you.” She hummed, her voice light and airy. “You see, when I married His Majesty, I was a year younger than you are now. I had lived as the princess of a small kingdom, so when his proposal came, there was no choice for me other than to agree. But I tried anyways.”
You remained silent.
“You see, the foolish me of my youth had loved a knight then and wanted to elope with him.” She laughed. “But when I tried to run away with him, my father caught me and had the knight stripped of his titles, tortured, and banished. All those years he had spent in service of our kingdom, and look what he threw away for a fleeting passion.” You felt her gaze fall back onto you. It felt sharp, like a blade.
“You understand my meaning, don’t you? Xavier is set to wed a princess. A political alliance with the Lucis Kingdom will be beneficial for everyone’s sake. A commoner like you.” She paused to laugh again. “Well, I am pleased that you have been able to make a knight of yourself. But make no mistake, that’s as high as you can climb up.”
She gestured a hand out, and you saw a wooden chest enter your periphery. “This is more than enough money to support you and any other ambitions you may have. You’d never have the opportunity to get your lowly hands on this much money. Take this money, and leave. Leave the palace as soon as you can, before the end of this season, so that Xavier does not hesitate in his upcoming nuptials with Lucis’s Princess.”
You raised your head to make direct eye contact with her then. Your eyes were fierce as you sternly shook your head. “Your Majesty, this lowly servant is well aware of her own station and does not dare to go beyond it. This lowly servant is not worthy of your noble gift, for her lowly hands would tarnish its value.” You dipped into a bow again before swiftly turning on your heel and marching out of the room.
You heard the crash of her cup hitting the wall from behind you, but you kept marching forward. Though you felt pity for the maids who would have to deal with her wrath, you knew that it would not have done you any good to have accepted her money.
You had been truthful with the Queen. You did know your station, and you also knew that you would never be able to go beyond it.
Your decision had been made long before you stepped into the room. In fact, it had been made even before you had heard news of Xavier’s nuptials.
It was final then. You would leave on your own terms, using your own money.
🌙✨
You knew you couldn’t stay in the capital. Linkon was a place full of reminders. If you peeked close enough, you could see the alleyways where you and Xavier had snuck bags of toasted walnuts when he was still young and still looked sweet enough to hide his stubbornness—though now, this sweetness had melted into a mildness that still hid his stubbornness well. You could remember the place Xavier had gifted you a small flower pin from the day you were admitted to knight training. And you could remember on one of those excursions where your cape had gone loose and he had reached out to tie it—the brush of his fingers against your lapel and the way your head had swelled up in a rush of blood...How could you stay in a place with all these reminders?
Sure, your family would miss you a little, but after your parents passed away and your siblings grew up, they were more worried about making a living and taking care of their own families. And besides, you could always visit them some time in the distant future.
No, you wanted to go somewhere peaceful and isolated, where nothing from the past could affect you.
As Linkon prepared to send its prince off to a wedding, you spent your time preparing for your own plans. When you weren’t training or taking on missions to take down wanderers, you found yourself perusing over a map that you had bought off a passing merchant.
The nearby city was too close, barely a day’s ride away by horse.
The region to the East looked good on paper, but you knew the noble families that had their territories there had close ties with the Queen. It wouldn’t be good for you to stay in a place where it would be easy for her to keep tabs on you. After all, you wanted to leave for the sake of your own freedom away from any royal’s influence.
Your pointer finger skimmed towards a small town to the West. It was about a week’s ride from the capital, 6 days if you pushed your horse, and near the border, so it was often experiencing unrest from stray wanderers. You could keep making some money there by going on small missions. And with the wages you had saved up and the money you could get from pawning off the uselessly luxurious gifts Xavier had given you over the years, even when you were old and unable to make money off of fighting wanderers, you could still live quite comfortably.
When you made your final decision, you quickly sprung into action. But when you asked Xavier for some time off, he had peered over his documents and looked at you skeptically. You could see why he saw it odd—you hadn’t taken a day off the moment you had entered knight’s training. But with the issue at the border contained, you were able to convince him that it was for the sake of spending some time traveling to get your head back on right. With reluctance, he stamped his seal of approval on your request.
You set off the following day. You didn’t need to prepare much—just enough money for food and your lodgings. But you felt odd as you went from city to city and then eventually from city to town.
It felt like someone was tailing you. The feeling started the moment you had left the gates of the capital, and even when you were deep into the crowds of an inn, you still felt a gaze on you. But whenever you looked, you would see the faint white of a cloak before it vanished.
It must’ve been one of the Queen’s people. So when you were about to reach your next town, only a day’s travel away from your intended destination, you decided to veer off course. Instead of going straight through the main road, you sharply turned off into the woods and urged your horse deep into the undergrowth. You then quickly dismounted and let your horse stray.
By the time the person following you entered the woods and saw your horse by itself, it was too late. You swung them off their horse, shoving them right into the dirt, and pressed your blade against their throat.
“Did the Queen send y-?” You hissed, reaching out to yank the hood down. The rest of the words you were about to say died in your throat as you squinted down at the familiar face. “Xavier?”
He looked at you with the firm steady look in his eyes, as if that was enough to convince you of whatever lie he had spun. But his ears flushed red—a clear giveaway. “What a coincidence...I was planning on checking the state of the borders, and we happen to be headed the same way.”
You laughed dryly. “Certainly, Xavier. Then you don’t mind if we part ways at the next town. I’m planning on taking a restful and slow vacation, and you must be in a hurry to get to the border then.”
He shamelessly shook his head. “I mean, the issue at the border is settled and wouldn’t change in less than a fortnight. They don’t need to see me there that urgently.” His lips curled up faintly at the corner.
You scowled. This prince! He was lying right to your face, and he didn’t seem like he had an ounce of guilt about it. “Well, what would other people think about us then? Only a married couple would be traveling together. Do you want people to presume about our relationship, Your Highness?” You threw your hands up. “And what about your safety? There isn’t a single other knight here from the squad!”
He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “Well, that’s for them to assume. And if you call me by my name, then no one would know who I am, and I wouldn’t be in danger. Besides, I don’t need other knights either. We’re already a good team, aren’t we, Partner?”
You huffed and spun around on your heel, about to start your search for your horse. There was no winning with him. As you found your mare and hoisted yourself up onto her, you squinted down at Xavier, who still looked idle.
“And where’s your horse?” you crossed your arms.
He looked around for a second and then looked back up at you. “It looks like it left. You don’t mind me riding with you, right? Besides...,” his voice softened, and his eyes looked sleepy all of a sudden, “Sleeping these past nights haven’t been too restful for me. I worried that I’d wake up and you would be already gone. I can catch up on some sleep if we ride together.”
Before you could protest, he had already settled himself behind you. His arms looped around your waist. When you turned around to gape at him, flabbergasted, he already had his head tilted down and his eyes closed.
You turned back and grabbed the reins, urging your mare back to the main road. When you were certain that he was actually asleep, you let yourself relax for a bit. You’d drop him off at the next inn and send a carrier back to the palace. By the time he woke up the next morning (or noon, with how his sleeping schedule was), you’d already be almost to your destination.
You were lost in thought and didn’t notice his grip around you tense a bit, not until you heard his voice murmur from behind you. “What did you mean about my mother? I heard she had forced you to meet with her as of late...What did she do?” Despite its softness, you could hear a slight edge to his voice.
You bit your bottom lip, trying to decide what to say to him. “She didn’t say or do anything. Just that, you know...she helped me realize that it would be good for me to start thinking about my future, beyond the castle.”
There was a pause.
“And how are you planning on doing that?”
You cleared your throat. “I mean...I only became a knight because it was a good way for me to help the kingdom and to stay by your side. Now that you’re getting married and leaving, I...I can’t say I know what my next steps are. But it’d be good for me to see more of the world, beyond fighting wanderers and...and as much as I enjoyed it...beyond being your childhood friend.”
After all, you had naively thought you could have stayed by his side forever. How naive of you.
It was silent. Seconds and then minutes and then more passed. You assumed then that he had fallen asleep.
But even as the ride was quiet, both of you slightly swaying with the movement of your horse and his eyes were closed, you didn’t even notice that his fingers were trembling.
🌙✨
The next town was exceptionally quaint. The two of you had reached it right after when the sky was almost beginning to dim and the heat of the sweltering sun had finally dissipated. There was the smoky smell of meat grilling, and groups of children ran past the two of you laughing and pushing each other around. You could hear string music just ahead, and a crowd was gathered around a skit.
Xavier and you talked little as the two of you traversed the space. Only when you had been planning on buying a skewer of lamb had he gently nudged your fingers away from your coin pouch and placed his own coins down. “Allow me,” he hummed. The two of you walked in silence as you nibbled on the meat—even though it originally came from a more rough cut, the way the vendor had cooked it had made it tender and fragrant.
As you scanned the trinkets of the vendor, your fingers lingered on a small hairpin. It was a white flower with a blue gem in the middle, the same shade of blue as Xavier’s eyes, attached to a fragile silver stick. You thought about purchasing it then. A little trinket, that you could carry around as a memory of the night.
Your fingers flexed, as if to grab hold of it.
And then you dropped them. No, it wouldn’t be good for you to carry around all these reminders. You gave an apologetic smile to the vendor and turned away, carrying on to the next stall.
“Why didn’t you buy it?”
You turned around at the sound of Xavier’s voice and bumped into him. You knew he had been following you, but you didn’t know when he had gotten so close—maybe it was the crowd jostling the two of you together. But, as you scanned the surroundings, most of the crowd had already wandered off to gather around a stage where a play was taking place.
“I just,” you felt flustered at having been caught. “It’s not the most fitting for me. It just seems-,” you swallowed dryly, “like it’s beyond my station.”
The two of you had stepped off into a small quiet corner. Despite how dim the lighting was, you could still see the flecks of light in his eyes. He was quiet for a moment before pulling out something from his pocket.
When you saw the glint of blue, you sputtered out, “W-what! Xavier, you shouldn’t have!”
He tilted his head to look down at you, in a way that made every nerve of yours prickle. His gaze was intense. He reached out with a hesitant hand and placed it tenderly against the side of your head. “May I?” his voice was low.
You relented, nodding.
He nudged your head so that it would turn. With quick nimble fingers, he coiled your hair and slid the hairpin through. But even when he was done, his hand hadn’t left you. It instead slid down so that it was cupping your chin.
“I just remembered how you used to wear the flower pin all the time. But then one day you stopped.”
His thumb softly brushed against your skin. God, your throat was dry again.
“Why?” his voice was searching.
Of course, you knew why. You loved that pin. You still love that pin. And even when you had gone on wanderer excursions you had kept it on you still, tucked under your clothes. But the day you had heard news of his engagement, you had thrown it away.
But you couldn’t say that. Instead, you shrugged your shoulders and reached up to push his hand off you. You couldn’t look straight at him.
“I...I don’t know. It just...fell out of use.”
He hummed out a sound that sounded like disappointment. “Is that like us? Do you think we fell out of use too?”
You jolted and looked at him. “No...Xavier, I’m...I’m not someone who deserves to be close to you. You’re...”
“I’m what?” He sounded almost desperate now. But he couldn’t have been desperate about you, could he?
And you didn’t know what to say, but you knew what you wanted to say: You’re getting married. You’re leaving. You can’t keep giving me false hope that I’m special.
But you didn’t say anything of that. And maybe what you said next was worst than all of those statements combined. You just looked at him, with something that you were certain was akin to anguish in your eyes.
“I love you, Xavier.” And when you started, you couldn’t stop. “I have loved you since the moment I saw you. But...you’re...You’re not mine, Xavier. And you’ll never be.”
The moment you registered what you said, you were horrified. Your hands flew to your mouth and before you knew what you were doing, you had turned and started sprinting.
Your mind was spinning. Screw the waiting until the next morning. You couldn’t keep seeing him any longer. Now that you said everything that you shouldn’t have. You didn’t even look at where you were going but you knew you just had to be away, to gather your thoughts and dignity that the next time you saw him again, you could laugh and pretend that it was just the sips of ale that you had taken earlier and you were actually talking about a different Xavier.
Before you could fully slip away, you felt hands wrap around your shoulder and pull you back. You turned sharply, just in time to miss colliding with a group of kids that had tumbled out of seemingly nowhere.
“You can’t just,” Xavier’s fingers were firm, but you could feel them trembling around your skin, “say that and leave.”
Your eyes darted around your surroundings. God, the play had ended and the crowd was already dispersing. You didn’t want to attract any more attention, but you were frantic with distress. You let him pull you away from the crowd and set you down to a seat, staying silent until you were certain there were no other eyes on you.
“I’m, I, I just can’t,” you were shaking now too. Or had you already been shaking? “Can you just forget it, everything I said?”
He laughed. It sounded sarcastic. “Like I was meant to forget what you had said that night when you were drunk, how you said you would never leave my side for the rest of your life.” His voice softened then. “And how I was meant to forget that you had kissed me.”
You buried your face into your hands and let out a groan. “I’m...I did that? Of course, I said something foolish like that.”
And then you registered his second sentence. You bolted up to a standing position. “I kissed you?!”
He seemed calm, but you knew every detail about him—his ears were flushed red, and you could see that his face was hazy with a soft pink. Oh, how foolish were you?
“My sincerest apologies!” you blurted out. “I should have never, I would have never. I said that? I did that?!”
You were hysterical now. Perhaps you should grab your sword now and stab yourself through the heart with it. Your hand was about to reach for your sheath when a hand stopped you.
“If you had not decided to run away before you could listen, to hear my response to your promise,” he spoke firmly, “you would have known that I have shared the same feelings as you.”
You stopped.
“The moment we met, the moment I saw that girl and had her fling dirt on me and how even when she apologized for doing so there was a fire in her that showed that she didn’t think what she did was any wrong,” he laughed. His hands moved up, until they rested on your waist, “I have to admit that I have been hopelessly captured by her. The way she smiles when she finds the dishes she likes and frowns when they aren’t up to par, the way she falls asleep deeply in a second with her mouth wide open, the way she never hesitates to rush in to defend someone with her sword.”
His hands then dragged up until they were once again cupping your face.
“And how I have never been courageous enough to tell her all of these things. That behind it all, when it comes to her I am just a cowardly man. That I get anxious when she doesn’t talk to me, when she decides to do something she’s never done, to such an extent that I become a foolish man who can’t even say a word out of fear of losing her. Because to me, she is my most beloved.”
He swiped his thumb against your bottom lip. His face was getting closer to you. You didn’t push him away.
The kiss was soft and gentle. It felt like sunlight brushing against your lips. You melted under his touch. Prickles of heat surged underneath your skin.
When you finally parted, he asked, his voice slightly strained, “Will you forget about this too?”
You hadn’t even registered that you were tearing up until you felt him brush away the first drop as it hit your cheek. “I -I must. You are engaged. You will marry another.”
He shook his head. “And in doing so, lose my beloved? Those were all rumors that the Queen had made to force me into this engagement, because she recognized that I love another. That I love you. That I would only marry one, if she would have me.”
You wanted to implore more then. To ask more questions about what it meant for you to say yes and whether it was truly moral for you to allow your Prince to cast aside his duty for you and would it even be worth it.
But you had spent a long time overthinking and asking yourself all sorts of questions. You didn’t want to worry about the future, about the consequences, and what it meant for you to fully defy the Queen’s orders.
All you thought about was how, out of all the questions you have ever had, he had answered the first one.
That memory of the first time you met, he too was a keeper of them. The feelings of those simpler days, when the two of you were young and not quite aware of the difference in status between you and you had kept watch for the head tutors when he would skip his classes to sleep under the great tree but found your own eyes slipping back to him, surged through you.
And to you, that was enough to let you close your eyes and pull him in for another kiss.
Whatever came tomorrow came tomorrow. If you chose to stay, if you chose to leave, rather than uncertainty plaguing you like it had before, you felt certain that this warmth would never leave your side.
✨Extra✨:
He had been careful to not spoil the surprise. It was the day that you would finally start knight training, and he had spent the last couple of days carefully stitching each petal together onto the hairpin.
He had always acquired skills easily, but even though the tutor had complimented his work, he still felt a little embarrassed of the quality. Sure, you would look beautiful in it because you looked beautiful in anything. But was it good enough for you? Would you like that it came from him?
He felt the pin in his pocket again. Should he wait for you to be done? Where should he wait for you?
You had found him the second you were done, your skin flushed and glowing with sweat. His mouth felt a little dry then as you beamed at him.
“We just started training to boost our stamina but pretty soon I’ll have the sword in hand and we’ll be defeating wanderers left and right!” you motioned a sword with your arms. “But training is pretty intense, as you can remember, Sir Head Knight. I won’t be able to come find you like I usually do.”
He didn’t remember how he got to presenting to you with the pin, but as he placed it in your hands, he remembered his mind went blank and suddenly he spoke: “I bought it just now. It’s not the best quality, so if you don’t wear it, it’s alright.”
You had already snatched the pin from his hands and was already working it into your hair. When you were done, you gestured wildly at it and grinned. “A gift for your future accomplice?”
He swallowed again. You really did look even more beautiful than he could have imagined.
Before he knew it, he had come closer. A thick strand of your hair had fallen out of the hairstyle, and he had it in his clutch, pressing a soft kiss on it. Your smile went stiff.
“No, it’s a gift for my future partner.”
A/N: let me know your thoughts! fics are always unedited so if any grammar mistakes or run-on sentences catch your eye...uhhhh no they didn't! and as always, my inbox is open!
JUST READ UR CALEB FIC, really excited to read more! i have a few theories, i kinda wonder if caleb somehow knows that the reader is not the mc but is the one he wants some how? has the reader here played lads? oh, if they did, maybe they’re slowly forgetting their previous life starting with lads? or maybe the original mc died and caleb somehow brought reader here as replacement of sorts bc the reader is technically mc in another universe?
and on last question, do the other love interests exist in this story?
again, love this cant wait to read more from you!!
hi, cutie! thank you so much for the support :) and for whether or not your theories will come true, we'll just have to wait and see!
we do know that reader is a little fuzzy on some of her memories of her past, so whether or not her memories of her current world are accurate or even actually happened is still not clear. yet, I can answer one thing and that is reader most likely didn't play lads in the current world (the reason why will be a bit more transparent later on).
(oh! and we will see some characters relevant to caleb's main story mentioned later on, but whether or not the other LIs will be brought in is still TBD--however, if there is one that has the highest chance of being involved, (spoiler!) it'll most likely be our favorite physician!)
Waking up in a different world where you have to pretend you have amnesia to get by is one thing. Waking up in a different world where you're married to a complete stranger and have to pretend you have amnesia is another.
Yet, this stranger seems to know you well. Too well. And with everything this world seems to be hiding from you, he's the only one you can bring yourself to trust.
But when distrust wedges itself between you and your newfound connection with this stranger-turned-husband, you begin to doubt if you can ever find a way to leave this world and return back to yours.
1 the warmth | 2 the smoke | 3 the heat | 4 the blaze
When you wake up in the hospital, blearing white light fills up your vision. And when it clears, your gaze settles on a stranger sleeping on your small cot.
He’s entirely too big for the room. You can see that from the uncomfortable position he’s in, on his knees and bent over so that he can keep his head propped up on your bed. His hat, black to match the uniform he’s in and broad-capped, rests next to his feet.
And then you look down and realize that he’s clutching your hand tightly in his. Even though he’s asleep, you notice almost aimlessly that his grip is so tight that you’re almost certain blood isn’t even properly flowing to your fingers anymore. You try to wiggle your fingers. Yup, an hour more and you’d probably lose that hand.
He twitches. And then he jolts up, almost knocking his head against yours. His eyes are shockingly purple—the shade of the night sky of the last sunset of summer, right after the sun dips below the horizon.
Your mouth gapes open in shock, and you almost fall back. His reflexes are quick—before your head even dips down, he’s already caught you by your waist and settled you back down on the bed. Gently. Cautiously.
“Whoa there, Pipsqueak!” he laughs. And then concern flashes through his eyes, and his hands have reached up to cup your cheeks. His touch is slightly warm. His voice softens all of a sudden. “How are you feeling?”
You flush under his intense scrutiny. He’s really a handsome man. Pause, you mentally smack yourself, this man is a stranger and he’s in your hospital room!
Wait, why are you in a hospital room?
You remember your desk at your apartment. You had been running off of no sleep and pushing towards an all-nighter, scanning through papers and spreadsheets desperately to meet your project’s deadline. And you remember setting an alarm for a 20-minute nap. And then you fell asleep...and now you were in the hospital?
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, finally finding your voice. You crane your neck to try to move out of his grip. “Um, who are you?”
He pauses. He looks hurt, concerned, sad, and weirdly enough, almost numb to your words. He withdraws his hands from your face.
“I’m Caleb.” A smile strains onto his face, almost like it was rehearsed and repeated, at the blank expression on your face. “Xia Yizhou.”
Caleb. Xia. The characters ring with familiarity in your head for a second. And then the feeling is gone.
“I’m—,” you begin to say, but before you’ve even finished saying your name, it’s already fallen off his lips.
Weird. How did he know your name? Alarm bells are ringing in your head all of a sudden. Just because he’s a good-looking guy doesn’t mean you should be okay with him being all up in your personal space. After all, he could be a killer or a weirdo. A good-looking one at that. And you’re his next bed-bound victim.
Your gaze falls down, and you begin to notice the band-aids wrapped tightly around you. One peek down the collar of your hospital pajamas has you noticing that even your chest is wrapped with white gauze. Even underneath your sleeve, you can see the band-aids. And your palms, on closer look, there’s a scab over your healing scrapes.
“Did I get hit by a car or something?” you muttered to yourself.
The stranger—Caleb, you correct yourself in your mind—shakes his head fiercely. “You got attacked by wanderers. When you were with me. I...” He stops speaking and drops his head.
Wanderers?
You stare at him even more blankly. And then your hands fly to your mouth. Your voice comes out in a hush, as your eyes dart around anxiously: “Is this like a zombie apocalypse or something? Are they surrounding the hospital right now? Are we going to die?”
A laugh of disbelief leaves his mouth before he can stop it. And then he stops, his head raising up and his eyes squinting in confusion, and then he looks even more concerned. Were there actually zombies? At that rate, you should’ve just been left for dead. Or Undead.
“Wanderers. They’re monsters that roam around after coming to earth, and you are a hunter...,” he pauses, “were a hunter who hunted them down.”
You feel relief dawning on you for a second at the fact that zombies aren’t part of this new weird reality you had awakened yourself to and then horror dawns on you when you realize that perhaps, these wanderer monsters perhaps aren’t any better to deal with. Especially when it seems like it is...or it was your job to deal with them.
“Like, with weapons?” you whisper, in shock. He nods. You are sure the only weapon you ever wielded was pepper spray walking home at night from overtime. Hell, you often had to ask your neighbor to help you bring up the heavier packages from the mailroom to your place.
But true to his words, you can feel that you are stronger, more muscular and toned, despite being what looks like hospitalized and severely injured.
Okay, so everything is seeming much less than a caffeine-induced nightmare and more like a twisted version of your normal reality.
“So I’m not a...hunter anymore?” you speak carefully.
He stares at you, in silence. He looks like he was contemplating a hard decision. And then he shakes his head.
“No, not anymore.”
Sure, you are certain that this version of you on the outside is still very much capable of swinging some heavy sword. But the you on the inside is someone who finds public-speaking during your meetings terrifying. Much less having the courage that it takes to slay monsters.
But you still tentatively ask. “Why?”
His eyes crinkle all of a sudden. His left hand reaches out, and he fondly strokes the top of your head. You don’t find it repulsive or jarring. His touch is...familiar.
“You tell me, Pipsqueak. After all, you decided to quit after we got recently married.”
Married? You blubber at his response. Your index finger reaches out to point at him, and then back at you, and then back at him.
And then your vision goes black.
🍏🍎
When you wake up, you are hopeful that what will meet your gaze would be the black screen of your overworked laptop and a drool-covered notepad with smudged ink. But instead, you can hear hushed whispers speaking with each other.
“Amnesia...Might be long-term...Recovery unknown...”
You peek an eye open. Damn, you are still in the hospital room.
Caleb somehow immediately senses that you had awakened, and in a flash, he’s by your side with the doctor—an aging man with a couple of gray hairs in his otherwise black hair—next to him. He reaches out and pats your cheek lightly, drawing your attention up to his face.
“Look, Pipsqueak, the doctor said that I can bring you home starting next week. It looks like most of your injuries are close to being fully recovered and being home will be good for your psychological well-being and might help you remember anything.” He flashes a confident smile.
The doctor beside him nods before adding. “These cases are rare, and we don’t know if there’s a cure, but taking some time to rest more will help stabilize your body and your mind. We’ll release you once it looks like you can fly, and I can refer you to a neurologist for support.”
Caleb’s smile temporarily strains before it relaxes. You feel like it was a trick of your eyes with how subtle and quick it is. He speaks, not to you but to the doctor. “But no pressure, right? She’ll need to take it slow and then we’ll reach out to one in Skyhaven once she’s all adjusted.”
His gaze slides down to you. “Right, Pipsqueak?”
Well, until you return to your normal reality, it seems like you are stuck here. And Caleb knows you—hell, he’s married to this version of you. And the doctor doesn’t seem to question your relationship either.
You nod. Or try your best to with the stiff muscles in your neck.
It looks like you’ll just have to enjoy being married to a hot guy while you still can. Not that that will be hard. But it seems like everything else in this world will be difficult to deal with...
🍏🍎
You can’t sleep well that night in the hospital. It’s almost funny—it looks like the you of this universe has caught up with her sleep debt from her coma. Instead, you lay on your back on your bed.
Your gaze falls onto the table next to the bed. You spot a phone. Your phone.
Caleb had dropped it off by your side before he had left. “Fully charged,” he had grinned down at you. It seems like you had a phone addiction even here. He looked like he didn’t want to leave, really, but you had squinted at him earlier as he had begun to slide a chair to your bedside and gone: “Have you even changed your clothes since you’ve come here? Slept in a proper bed?” He had shamelessly averted his gaze.
You had shaken your head at him in an almost maternal disappointment and crossed your arms in front of you, grimacing. “Okay, from your uniform, it looks like you’re financially secure. Get a hotel room for the night. Take a shower. Get a change of clothes. And sleep not on the floor with my already small bed as a pillow but on an actual bed with actual pillows and an actual blanket. I don’t want even the idea of a whiff of stinky man near me for the rest of the night.”
He had looked like a kicked puppy then, and you swore you could see drooping ears and a tail on him. And even more so when he had left. He had lingered by the door, staring back at you with pitiful eyes. You had a feeling you would have given in if you looked at him any longer, so instead, you turned so your back was facing him. “Go!” you spoke fiercely. And then your voice softened. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“I’ll see you in the morning? Good night then, Pipsqueak.” He whispered, gently. And then the door closed.
Hours later, you are still awake, and your phone is taunting you from the bedside table. It looks like an exact carbon copy of your phone back in your universe. It has a cute phone case with little apple designs and an attached wallet where you had tucked in the cards you needed.
You turn it on, and it recognizes your face, letting you in. The search engines look different to the ones in your Universe, but with some exploration, you are able to take yourself to what resembles closest to the search engine you usually used.
You pause before typing in.
Wanderer.
Images of wanderers pop up, and a wiki page categorizing their types is the first link. You squint. Okay, they are scary. And dangerous. But weirdly enough, less scary than the zombies in the tv shows you sometimes watch.
You then try another search.
Hunter.
You see a link to the official Hunters Association page show up. You click on it, and the page opens up to a simple emblem. There’s a description that you quickly read, and then you close out of the page. Next, news articles about the heroic deeds of hunters pop up and you read through them.
A woman in a gray uniform pops up. Jenna, is her name. She looks familiar. Really familiar. Is she your former boss? And then you scroll down even more and even more before stopping when a title popped up out at you, dating three years back.
Meet this year’s newest hunter admits.
You see a picture of you in the crowd. It is you, but it feels different somehow. This you, dressed in what you had identified as the hunter uniform, smiles at the camera with a confident ease. She feels almost alien, even though she wears the same skin as you. Or you’re wearing the same skin as her. You immediately exit the page.
You try one more search.
Waking up in another world with a husband you don’t even know about meaning?
Nothing relevant pops up. Except for some transmigration novels recommendations you spot. Glad to know those exist here too.
You turn off your phone in defeat and roll onto your side. Staring outside at the sliver of the night sky that your blinds don’t fully cover, you let out a sigh and close your eyes. Maybe when you wake up next, you won’t even need to worry about wanderers and hunters and broad-shouldered men in uniform with puppy-like purple eyes who look at you in ways you can’t really decipher.
🍏🍎
Caleb doesn’t leave your side for the entire week, even though you’re certain from his uniform that he’s definitely in a higher-up position in one of the however many government organizations existing here—Farspace Fleet, you confirm when you eavesdrop on him during one of the many times he’s in the hallway grumbling on the phone with someone.
It’s almost abnormally normal how much ease you feel letting this random stranger into your life. He knows you—or this version of you—well. Every detail, from the temperature you like in your room to the type of shows that you’d like to watch on the tv to your food dislikes and likes.
When you try to discreetly pick out the veggies you don’t like for a dish, he catches you and insists you finish them. “Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean you can avoid them. You won’t get all better without them.”
When you pretend not to hear him, he lets out a long sigh and plucks the spoon out of your own hand. “Ahh,” he hums.
You puff out your cheeks, annoyed all of a sudden. “I’m not two-years-old, Caleb. I’ll eat my veggies by myself." When you try to yank the utensil back, he leans back just out of reach.
“Uh-uh,” he tsks, poking at your cheek with a playful smile on his face, “I know what you’ll do. You’ll eat them and then try to spit them out into the napkin when I’m not noticing. Now open up.”
Yikes, how did he know?
Unfortunately for you, Caleb’s grip on the spoon is much stronger than yours, and unless you want to rely on your hands to eat your food, which seems like a bigger pain for the butt, you’ll have to settle on this approach. So you reluctantly oblige. But you notice with a pointed look the small pile of cilantro he has nudged aside on his own plate. He pretends to ignore your look and pokes the spoon to your lips.
Vegetable force-feeder aside, honestly, having Caleb around is almost like having a built-in helper robot, one that is attuned to your every need. Except instead of wires and cold metal, he’s made of hot flesh.
When you go on walks outside, he’s right behind you, watching carefully as if to make sure you won’t fall. He’s a hoverer, that’s for sure.
When you narrow your eyes at him and ask him “Do you even have enough PTO to be lurking around me like this”, he always pretends like he can’t answer the question and shamelessly changes it to a different topic.
The week passes by in a flash, with Caleb showing up the moment the sun rises and leaving back for his hotel late at night. And before you know it, you’ve become used to him. Almost too used to him.
🍏🍎
Caleb shows up early at 7am, even though he had told you the previous night that he’d be here at 8am to pick you up. You had insisted last night that he go home early—9pm sharp, in fact, instead of the usual midnight. He still looks like he hasn’t had enough sleep, and now that you’re less frazzled by your current reality, you can spot the dark circles clearly brimming underneath his eyes. Still, you mentally wolf-whistle, he’s gorgeous.
He’s back in his uniform. And before he comes near you, he tries to subtly sniff himself. Obviously, your comment about stinky men still rings loud and clear in his mind. You feel a bit sorry for him. He didn’t even stink when you had brought it up. In fact, he smelled good still. Annoyingly good.
But here you are, his supposed wife who’s not really his wife but is actually another soul who temporarily slipped into his wife’s body. But you try to assure yourself that hygiene really is the most important thing every human should prioritize.
“Did you sleep well?” you ask. He peers up at you through his lashes, pitifully, as he helps peel the blanket off of your legs and assists you to your feet before pulling a set of clothes out of his bag. He looks like a kicked dog, and you feel a little bad at how you’ve been pushing him around.
“How can I? I’m used to you being at my side every night. And last night you didn’t even let me stay to my usual hour,” he shrugs. He unfolds the set. It’s a plain baggy t-shirt and some loose pants. When he reaches out as if he’s about to reach for the buttons of your shirt, he hesitates and drops his hands.
“You should get changed.” He takes a few steps back, until his back hits the wall of the room.
You squint at him. “Aren’t you turning your back?”
His face flushes red and then he swiftly turns around. You can see that his ears have turned a bright red. Cute. You laugh to yourself.
But he really is big. There’s not much space, and you have to keep your arms from swinging into him as you take off your pajamas and pull on the change of clothes as swiftly as possible. It’s quiet, the only sound the rustling of your clothes.
When you’re done, you poke your finger into his back. “I’m done.”
He flinches, like he’s been jolted by your touch. He turns around, and you can see that his cheeks are rosy. In the past week you’ve been with him, he hasn’t been this flustered. But maybe it’s because you’ve been in your usual baggy hospital pajamas set and messed up greasy hair. Now, you look refreshed and energized. Like a civilian instead of a sick patient.
Still, as his flush fades and he reaches to adjust the crumpled collar of your shirt, you think to yourself that it’s odd that he looks pretty comfortable touching you but not with the other way around.
You take a step back and almost wobble. It looks like despite all your perceived muscle, laying in a coma for a week without any movement has really weakened you. And your adventures out into the hospital courtyard don’t seem to be serving you that much justice in the physical movement department.
“Whoa!” you gasp out. In a flash, Caleb has swept you up onto his arm so that you’re comfortably nestled in his hold above the ground. He effortlessly holds your bag of items in the other. Unconsciously, you had reached out and wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a panic at your shift in gravity. And by the time you stabilize yourself, he’s already out of the room and in the hallway.
“You know...you’re pretty reliable and everything but uh, next time, give me a heads up?” you see the shocked expressions of the people in the hallway, including a nurse you had become familiar with in the past week, and bury your burning face into his shoulders. You knock your fist against his shoulder when he doesn’t respond, and he just laughs.
“Got it, Captain,” you can almost hear the cheeky grin in his voice, and you whack him again with your fist. But to him, it probably just feels like something barely grazing against him with the way he continues without care.
He eventually sets you down when you make it to the station. Caleb catches your look of confusion, and he provides the name. “Coelum Express. It’s not a long trip.” He then stares at your band-aids peeking out underneath your sleeves. His face twists into a frown. “I’d fly us in if I could, but security’s been tighter because of the frequency of Wanderer attacks lately. If anything starts hurting, let me know.”
You don’t like worrying him. In fact, you never liked worrying anyone. Back in your other world, when you had been sick and about to pass out, it was only your neighbor that took care of you because he had spotted you half-conscious in the stairwell. Other than that, you even refused to let your family know that you weren’t feeling well.
You wonder if a version of him exists here. He had moved in a few years back and rarely spoke to anyone. And he always wore a black mask. You couldn’t really remember if you had ever seen his face, oddly enough, but if he resembled anyone, it would have to be the big puppy of a man next to you.
You realize that Caleb is still looking at you. You shake your head free from your thoughts. “I’ll be fine.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“Really,” you nudge him. “I’m a grown adult. I can handle myself. And what, it’s only a few hours?”
He reaches out and ruffles your hair. You try to duck and bat away his hands, and when you focus back on him, you can see that the smile on his face is almost rueful. “Even when you forget all about me, you don’t seem to forget that you don’t need me.”
You don’t like how bitter he looks. Something takes over you, and you run a tentative hand across his chest. Your fingers bump the silver chain around his neck—dog tags, with a small apple charm. When U Come Back. Those words sound familiar in your head again. But like with everything else about this world, the moment you try to grab onto it, it’s already dissolved.
“Caleb, I need you,” you whisper before you can stop yourself.
You won’t tell him that you’re a stranger possessing the body of his wife, that the person you are in your other world is someone entirely different from the person he knows here. But it’s true. He’s the only one you know in this unfamiliar world. And you need him.
He’s staring at you in that way again. Like he’s trying to read your mind, while helplessly offering to you something you might want to read from his mind. Vulnerable, in a trance where you’re the person leading him into it and you’re also the only person who can lead him out of it.
And you know he’s seeing someone else through you.
Silver glints in your field of vision again, and you step back. You offer him an awkward smile, averting your gaze. “Come on, let’s not miss the train.”
🍏🍎
The train ride is, as Caleb says, quick. Clouds pass by you in a flash, and you stay with your face pressed up against the glass in aware. The world here, as familiar as it is in some ways, is much more high-tech than yours in other ways. Caleb doesn’t say much to you during the ride. He sits there, watching you.
Before long, the two of you are back at his place. Our place, you correct in your mind. This is the home of Caleb and the version of you that he’s married to.
It’s cozy and decorated exactly to your taste. You can see some peeks of Caleb through it—the airplane diagrams on the wall, the models neatly organized on the black shelves, and some large books with bugs on the front. Everything else though feels familiar and comfortable to you. Like Caleb, this place is catered to your every liking and taste.
He’s setting your bags down behind you as you begin to roam around. You peruse through the framed pictures set around. There’s a picture of you in a pretty white dress smiling at the camera at him. And another of the two of you with your fingers up in peace signs at the camera. You move on from the frames.
“Are you hungry? I can make something for lunch.” He throws the comment at you as you’re burying your head in the pile of throw pillows on the sofa. You peek up at him and nod your head eagerly.
He’s about to leave into the kitchen when you glance at your finger. Your ring finger.
“Hey, Caleb,” you call out. He stops in his tracks. “We’re married right? Where’s my ring?”
You’ve seen the ring on his finger. It’s a silver band with a small airplane embedded on it. And it made sense that the hospital probably took the ring off of your finger after the incident. But Caleb hadn’t even made a mention of it.
You can’t see his face when he responds, his back turned to you. “It’s getting repaired at the shop. It got damaged during the wanderer attack. It’ll be back, good as new.”
You open your mouth, about to ask something else, when the phone in his pocket beeps. Before you can say anything, he’s already turned to give you an apologetic smile as he picks up the phone and heads off into the kitchen.
When he comes out, he’s already heading to a different room. You watch him with curious eyes as he comes out, his hat in his hand.
“Shoot, it’s something urgent at the Fleet.” He walks over to you and reaches down to pat your head. “I’ll order some food to the door, and I’ll be back tonight. If you need me, call me. My number’s in your phone.”
And then he’s gone.
With Caleb away from your side during the day instead of the night, you’re once again left with your thoughts. Here you are, married, in the home of newlyweds, when the you of your world has only had your job to worry about and a practically nonexistent love life to shoo away from your mind.
You flop to your other side, grimacing a bit at the impact. You’re still bruised.
You can hear the faint ticking of a clock, but other than that, there’s nothing to stimulate your mind here. In your boredom, exhaustion creeps up on you and you fall asleep.
Your sleep is restless. You hear a loud screech echo in your ears, your feet are covered in mud as you sprint in the darkness, and you can feel the ground shaking underneath you as something behind you scrambles to catch up to you.
You’re getting tired. You know that you won’t be able to run any further before it catches up to you. And then you’re falling. Tree branches scratch at your body as you sink deeper. And then you’re in a room, confined to a chair.
Someone’s watching you. You can’t see them, but you can hear their soft breathing. You call out, demanding: “Who’s there?”
Footsteps sound in front of you. Your head whips up, and a loud gasp falls from your lips.
“Caleb?”
You jolt awake, your heart racing. A quick glance to the window next to the sofa shows that the sky is already getting dim.
The house is still silent. Caleb’s not back yet.
It isn’t until this realization that you can relax. And you feel guilt prod at you because of it.
Because this is Caleb. Familiar Caleb. Caleb who’s supposed to be your husband and has taken care of your entire need during your recovery. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. You shake your head and get to your feet.
As you’re about to head to the front door to check on the delivery food you’re certain has already grown cold, you decide to change direction and head towards the bedrooms. It’s not until you’re in the hallway that you spot something small glinting on the floor, right in front of the large wall in the hallway.
It’s a ring. Almost identical to Caleb’s ring except it’s daintier and shaped in a way that it would fit comfortably on yours. Odd, didn’t Caleb say that this was supposed to be at the repair shop? You look closer at it, trying to figure it out even more underneath the dimming light of the setting sun.
And then you notice the faint copper on the silver.
It’s blood.
You glance up at the large wall. You reach out, just about to press your hand firmly against it, when you hear the front door open and a voice ring out.
“Where are you, Pipsqueak? You didn’t eat the delivery food?”
You quickly scoop up the ring and hide it in the pocket of your pants. Getting up, you wander back out into the living room.
Caleb’s back. He looks tired, but when he spots you, relief washes over his expression. And then his expression turns slightly cold. “What have you been doing until now?”
You can feel the weight of the ring in your pocket. But you try to forget about it, not when Caleb seems to have a sixth sense in detecting your lies, and you seem to not have that same sixth sense for detecting his lies. Even now, you can’t tell if he’s hiding something from you. You don’t like to think that he is. After all, he’s the only one you have here that you can trust.
“I fell asleep on the couch, and when I woke up just now, I tried to find the bathroom.” You shrug. “And I got lost.”
He relaxes a little. “It’s in our bedroom. The first door in the hallway. Since you didn’t eat anything today and I didn’t either, I’ll make something. It’s not good to eat delivery food left out after all.”
You nod, almost mindlessly. When you turn to find your way to the bathroom, because really you did have to go use it, you don’t even notice that he’s still standing there, his eyes not leaving you.
A/N: it's been a while since I've written fanfic for any fandom, so I hope it isn't too rusty!! Let me know your thoughts/theories about what's going on with Caleb and why you're in this new world (where's the other you/).
You can also find this published on AO3 as well under my user applesanonymous :) but both shouldddd be published at the same time!
