The orchard was quiet in that strange way it only ever got right before dusk.
Golden light filtered through the trees, catching on the dust in the air as Caleb leaned against the old wooden fence, one boot braced on the lower rail. A half empty drink sat forgotten beside him. He looked like he’d been there a while… waiting on purpose.
And when he saw you, that lazy posture shifted just a little, just enough to give him away.
“Well,” he called out, “look who finally decided to show up.”
His eyes narrowed playfully as you got closer, scanning you like he was deciding whether to be annoyed or relieved. Then, as if the decision didn’t matter much anyway, he pushed off the fence and stepped toward you.
“You’re late, pipsqueak,” he said. “I was starting to think you got lost… or worse, decided to ignore me on purpose.”
He stopped just close enough that you could feel his presence.
Marina lay awake next to Caleb, listening to his breathing, waiting for the second he sounded like he was waking up. The moment she felt him turn towards her, she pulled him closer. "Happy birthday to you," she began, singing quietly to gently rouse him. "Happy birthday to you." She planted a gentle kiss on his nose. "Happy birthday dear Caleeeeeeeb," she held out the note longer than was necessary. "Happy birthday to you." She finished, putting her hand on his cheek and kissing him gently on the lips.
"I just wanted to be the first one to tell you that today. I couldn't wait anymore," she said, laughing. "Birthday breakfast is my treat. What do you want? I'll bring it to you in bed."
//lol don't worry I won't make us have two threads going, but of course she had to tell him happy birthday 😌
Caleb let out a slow, sleepy exhale, the sound of her voice tugging him gently out of whatever dream he’d been buried in. His brow furrowed for a second before his eyes finally cracked open.
“…mm,” he hummed, lips still lingering where she’d kissed him.
Then a faint smirk pulled at one corner of his mouth. “You practiced that, didn’t you?” he murmured. His hand came up, covering hers where it rested against his cheek.
“The first one, huh…” he added. “Guess I picked the right person to wake up next to.” He shifted closer without hesitation, pulling her into him like it was instinct, forehead nudging lightly against hers before he pressed a slow kiss to her lips.
“Breakfast in bed sounds nice,” he said, voice still husky. “You’re setting a high bar for the rest of the year.”
“…but if you’re asking what I want?” His hand slid down her arm, fingers lacing with hers. “Stay here a bit longer,” he said quietly. “With you. That’s first.”
“…after that, I’ll take apple pancakes. And coffee strong enough to bring me back to life.”
Caleb’s breath broke a little sharper this time as she continued her slow, deliberate trail downward. His head tipped back against the pillow for a second, jaw tightening, eyes closing briefly like he was trying to hold onto something slipping out of his control. When she finally looked back up at him, asking that question, that was it. Something in his expression shifted.
In one swift motion, his hand caught her wrist before she could continue any further. He pulled her back up toward him, rolling just enough to meet her halfway, his other hand coming up to steady her at her waist again. “Alright,” he said, voice low. “You’ve had your fun.” His gaze locked onto hers. “You wanted to test my restraint?” he added, one brow lifting faintly. “Congratulations.”
His thumb brushed slowly along her wrist where he held her, not loosening his grip. “You found the limit.” He leaned in, stopping just shy of her lips again, close enough that his breath warmed her mouth, but not giving her the kiss right away this time.
“But don’t get it twisted,” he murmured. “That doesn’t mean I’m the only one who’s about to struggle.” His hand at her waist shifted, fingers pressing in just slightly as he held her there. “So,” he finished softly, eyes flicking between hers, “if you keep going… you’re not the only one setting the pace anymore.”
You're lucky you added the last line, mister. I thought you were gonna leave me to cool off all my myself 🥺
How close do I need to be? Can you show me?
“…You really thought I’d leave you like that?” He clicks his tongue, then walks back toward you. “C’mere.” He reaches out, fingers hooking lightly around your wrist, just enough to guide you forward until you’re right in front of him.
“This close,” he murmurs. His hand slides to your waist, steadying you. “Can’t correct your form from across the room,” he adds. He steps behind you, “Feet shoulder-width,” he says, nudging your stance with his foot. “Knees soft. Don’t lock them.”
His hands hover first, “Hip hinge,” he instructs. “Push back, not down.” He guides the motion just once. “Feel that stretch?” he murmurs near your ear. “That’s what you’re chasing.” He pulls back after a second. “Again. Show me.”
Caleb froze when you hugged him. Not because he didn’t expect it, but because of how small your voice sounded when you said thank you.
Then his arms came up around you without hesitation. One hand settled between your shoulder blades, pulling you in just a little closer.“…You almost killed yourself over chicken wings,” he muttered quietly near your ear. His hand shifted slightly. “…You don’t have to win everything.”
When you mentioned the old days, he stilled again. “…Yeah,” he said. His chin dipped slightly, brushing your hair as he exhaled. “I noticed.”
His hand came up to the back of your head, pressing you closer for a second before easing off again. “…Next time,” he added, “pick a challenge that doesn’t involve actual self-destruction.”
A faint huff of breath. “And for the record…” He pulled back just enough to look at you, one brow lifting slightly, “…you were doing fine. Until you decided to fight a volcano.”
Tella closed her eyes as she let her forehead rest against his.
"So can I commandeer the Fleet's Colonel starting now? There's that old campsite nearby that we used to go to when we were kids."
Her Hunter's Watch beeped but she quickly silenced it. Pulling away from him, she tapped in a vacation request effectively immediately before turning off the device.
"If you want to run away from the world for a bit, I'll always be by your side."
-🦋
There’s the faintest hint of a smile against your skin, “commandeer, huh? That’s pretty bold of you, pipsqueak.”
But he doesn’t pull away, “The Colonel might have something to say about that,” he murmurs. “Chain of command and all, but I think he’s off-duty.”
Your watch beeps. His hand tightens instinctively, like he already knows what that sound usually means. When you turn it off, his eyes flick down to your hand, then back up to your face. “You’re serious,” he says quietly.
His hand lifts, brushing a strand of hair back behind your ear,
“Old campsite, huh?” he repeats. “The one by the ridge? Where you insisted you could start a fire by yourself and nearly smoked us out?”
“…Yeah. I remember,” his fingers slide back into yours, lacing them together again, “alright. Let’s go.”
You make it almost all the way. The second your fingers brush your phone, his arm tightens. “…where do you think you’re going?” Caleb’s voice is rough with sleep, low and quiet right behind you. His hand shifts from between your shoulder blades to your waist, pulling you back against him in one smooth, lazy motion.
“Mission briefing didn’t include early extraction,” he murmurs, nose brushing lightly against the back of your neck. “You were doing so well,” he adds, teasing now. “Almost made it out.”
His chin settles near your shoulder, eyes still closed, but there’s a faint smirk in his voice. “Checking the weather?” he guesses, one hand slipping over yours to gently lower your phone back onto the nightstand without even looking.
His thumb traces a slow line along your arm. “…five more minutes. Orchard’s not going anywhere,” he murmurs. “But you?” A slight pull, closer. “You were about to.”
For the past few weeks, the lecture hall had become a testing ground for Thea’s sanity. It wasn't the professor's monotonous droning on the syllabus, but rather a sound coming from three rows away.
His laugh.
Caleb. He was always surrounded by a crowd, radiating a kind of warmth that made people gravitate toward him like moths to a flame. Thea, firmly rooted in her comfort zone of quiet isolation, found it entirely annoying. Why did he have to be so loud? Why was he so well liked?
But if she was being completely honest with herself, ‘annoyed’ was just a convenient shield. The truth was far more unsettling. Every time that distinct, rich sound echoed across the room, something strange happened. Thea felt a sudden, inexplicable tightness in her chest—as if the very air was escaping her lungs, leaving her momentarily breathless. It was a confusing reaction to a complete stranger, and it made her want to keep her distance even more.
Caleb hadn’t meant to laugh that loud. Okay, no, that was a lie. He always meant to. It just… happened. Easy, natural, like breathing. Someone said something mildly funny, and the sound tore out of him before he could even think about toning it down. The people around him fed off it, too, grinning, leaning in, chasing that reaction like it was a reward.
But lately, something kept tugging at the edge of his awareness. Three rows ahead. Left side. Her. He didn’t know her name. Not yet. But he knew the way she stiffened every time his voice carried across the hall. Knew how she never turned around, not once, even when half the room did. It was… interesting.
Today, he caught it again. The professor droned on about course expectations, the air thick with boredom, and someone beside him muttered a joke. Caleb huffed a laugh, quieter this time, or at least he thought it was, and his gaze drifted forward out of habit.
There it was. That tiny hitch in her posture. A pause in her note-taking, pen hovering too long above the page. His grin faded, just a little. Huh. If she was annoyed, she’d roll her eyes. Glance back. Do something. But she didn’t. She just… endured it. Like his existence was something she had to weather rather than react to. That pricked at him in a way he didn’t expect.
Caleb leaned back in his seat, stretching one arm across the back of the chair beside him, eyes still loosely fixed on the back of her head. There was something off about the whole thing, like he’d stepped into a rhythm he didn’t quite understand yet. And Caleb hated not understanding things.
By the time the lecture ended, he’d already made up his mind. The room filled with the scrape of chairs and low chatter as people packed up. Caleb took his time watching as she gathered her things. Except this time, she wouldn’t get out so easily.
He slipped into the aisle just as she did, timing it so they converged near the exit. “Hey.” His mouth curved into a curious grin. “I’ve been wondering something.” Then, with a tilt of his head, just enough to catch her eyes, “Do I actually bother you,” he asked lightly, “or is that just your face when you’re concentrating?”
The hallway kept flowing around them, but in that small pocket near the doorway, everything had narrowed to what she’d just said. Caleb blinked once. Then twice. Not offended. Not even embarrassed. Just… recalibrating. “…Huh,” he said quietly, almost to himself. That wasn’t the reaction he expected.
Gideon, on the other hand, let out a soft exhale that almost counted as a laugh. “Well,” he murmured, watching Thea disappear into the crowd, “that went better than your usual.”
Caleb finally stepped aside, giving the doorway back to traffic, but his eyes stayed on the direction she’d gone like he could still track her through the movement of people. “She’s not what I thought,” he said. Gideon’s gaze slid sideways. “You thought she was what, exactly?” Caleb huffed, scratching the back of his neck. “Quiet. Avoidant. Maybe a little annoyed.”
“Mm,” Gideon hummed. “And?” Caleb didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t avoiding him because she couldn’t handle him. She was just… choosing not to engage. That was different. Annoyingly different. “She talks like she means it,” Caleb said finally. “That’s rare.”Gideon snorted. “Congratulations. You’ve discovered basic respect.” Caleb ignored him, still watching the crowd where she’d vanished. “She doesn’t fold.”
That got Gideon’s attention a little more. “…Careful,” Gideon said. “That sounds like interest.” Caleb finally looked away, slow grin returning. “Don’t start,” he said. Gideon adjusted his grip on his notebook. “I’m not starting anything. You’re the one who just got shut down in under thirty seconds.” Caleb laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Yeah,” he admitted, starting to walk. “I noticed.”
And as they merged back into the hallway flow, Gideon fell into step beside him, glancing over like he already knew this wasn’t going to end here. Caleb, for his part, didn’t deny it. He just looked a little more awake than before.
You're lucky you added the last line, mister. I thought you were gonna leave me to cool off all my myself 🥺
How close do I need to be? Can you show me?
“…You really thought I’d leave you like that?” He clicks his tongue, then walks back toward you. “C’mere.” He reaches out, fingers hooking lightly around your wrist, just enough to guide you forward until you’re right in front of him.
“This close,” he murmurs. His hand slides to your waist, steadying you. “Can’t correct your form from across the room,” he adds. He steps behind you, “Feet shoulder-width,” he says, nudging your stance with his foot. “Knees soft. Don’t lock them.”
His hands hover first, “Hip hinge,” he instructs. “Push back, not down.” He guides the motion just once. “Feel that stretch?” he murmurs near your ear. “That’s what you’re chasing.” He pulls back after a second. “Again. Show me.”
The moment you said “I can’t” over and over like that, Caleb was already moving. The game? Gone. Completely. “Hey… hey,” he cut in, standing up as you paced. His hand caught your wrist. “Stop moving,” he said. “You’re making it worse.” There was no teasing left in him now. Not even a trace.
He guided you back toward the chair, one hand hovering at your back in case you wobbled again. “Sit,” he added, quieter this time. Before you could argue, he reached for something on the side table, napkins first, then your water, then immediately set it aside again with a slight frown.
“Water’s not going to help much,” he muttered. A second later, he was already moving toward the door, cracking it open just enough to speak to someone outside. When he came back, his focus snapped right back to you. “Milk,” he said. “Or yogurt, if they have it.”
He crouched slightly in front of you now, bringing himself closer to your level, eyes scanning your face, tears, flushed skin, the way you were breathing. “…You overdid it,” he added.
His hand came up, hesitated for half a second, then brushed lightly under your eye with his thumb, catching a tear before it could run further. “Breathe through your nose,” he said. “Slow.” A pause. “…You don’t have to prove anything.”
Only after that did his gaze flick briefly to the table, the untouched Thermageddon wing, the mess of the round, and then back to you. “Game’s over,” he decided. “…I’m not picking anything,” he added, like that part didn’t even matter anymore. “Focus on not dying first.”
Marina lay awake next to Caleb, listening to his breathing, waiting for the second he sounded like he was waking up. The moment she felt him turn towards her, she pulled him closer. "Happy birthday to you," she began, singing quietly to gently rouse him. "Happy birthday to you." She planted a gentle kiss on his nose. "Happy birthday dear Caleeeeeeeb," she held out the note longer than was necessary. "Happy birthday to you." She finished, putting her hand on his cheek and kissing him gently on the lips.
"I just wanted to be the first one to tell you that today. I couldn't wait anymore," she said, laughing. "Birthday breakfast is my treat. What do you want? I'll bring it to you in bed."
//lol don't worry I won't make us have two threads going, but of course she had to tell him happy birthday 😌
Caleb let out a slow, sleepy exhale, the sound of her voice tugging him gently out of whatever dream he’d been buried in. His brow furrowed for a second before his eyes finally cracked open.
“…mm,” he hummed, lips still lingering where she’d kissed him.
Then a faint smirk pulled at one corner of his mouth. “You practiced that, didn’t you?” he murmured. His hand came up, covering hers where it rested against his cheek.
“The first one, huh…” he added. “Guess I picked the right person to wake up next to.” He shifted closer without hesitation, pulling her into him like it was instinct, forehead nudging lightly against hers before he pressed a slow kiss to her lips.
“Breakfast in bed sounds nice,” he said, voice still husky. “You’re setting a high bar for the rest of the year.”
“…but if you’re asking what I want?” His hand slid down her arm, fingers lacing with hers. “Stay here a bit longer,” he said quietly. “With you. That’s first.”
“…after that, I’ll take apple pancakes. And coffee strong enough to bring me back to life.”
Caleb went very still for a moment when she guided his hand, like every nerve in his body had suddenly tuned in to exactly where she wanted him, how she wanted him to feel.
His eyes flicked down to where her strap had slipped, then back up to her face, something darker and far less restrained settling in behind his gaze.
“…Insulting?” he echoed quietly. “Pipsqueak… you’re starting to sound like you want me to do something about that.”
When she leaned in, lips barely brushing his, he didn’t close the gap right away. Didn’t rush it. Just let the tension stretch… on purpose.
His hand, the one she’d guided, didn’t stay still this time. It moved. Slowly. Sliding along her side again, but this time with intention, like he was answering her challenge instead of holding back from it. His fingers flexed lightly at her hip when they reached it, steadying her as his other hand came up to cradle the back of her neck.
“You want to…” he murmured, barely a breath from her lips now, his thumb brushing just under her jaw. Then he finally closed the distance, kissing her, slow at first, but with a depth that made it clear he’d been holding back before.
“Good,” he said softly. “Because I was running out of patience pretending I didn’t.”
Marina lay awake next to Caleb, listening to his breathing, waiting for the second he sounded like he was waking up. The moment she felt him turn towards her, she pulled him closer. "Happy birthday to you," she began, singing quietly to gently rouse him. "Happy birthday to you." She planted a gentle kiss on his nose. "Happy birthday dear Caleeeeeeeb," she held out the note longer than was necessary. "Happy birthday to you." She finished, putting her hand on his cheek and kissing him gently on the lips.
"I just wanted to be the first one to tell you that today. I couldn't wait anymore," she said, laughing. "Birthday breakfast is my treat. What do you want? I'll bring it to you in bed."
//lol don't worry I won't make us have two threads going, but of course she had to tell him happy birthday 😌
Caleb let out a slow, sleepy exhale, the sound of her voice tugging him gently out of whatever dream he’d been buried in. His brow furrowed for a second before his eyes finally cracked open.
“…mm,” he hummed, lips still lingering where she’d kissed him.
Then a faint smirk pulled at one corner of his mouth. “You practiced that, didn’t you?” he murmured. His hand came up, covering hers where it rested against his cheek.
“The first one, huh…” he added. “Guess I picked the right person to wake up next to.” He shifted closer without hesitation, pulling her into him like it was instinct, forehead nudging lightly against hers before he pressed a slow kiss to her lips.
“Breakfast in bed sounds nice,” he said, voice still husky. “You’re setting a high bar for the rest of the year.”
“…but if you’re asking what I want?” His hand slid down her arm, fingers lacing with hers. “Stay here a bit longer,” he said quietly. “With you. That’s first.”
“…after that, I’ll take apple pancakes. And coffee strong enough to bring me back to life.”
Caleb went completely still. Your voice at his ear. Your teeth.
Your lips tracing heat into places that clearly weren’t neutral ground for him. The mark you left behind? Yeah. He felt that.
A slow breath left him through his nose. When you finally pulled back and looked at him like that, asking your question so innocently, like you hadn’t just dismantled his composure piece by piece, his hand tightened slightly where it rested on you.
“…You talk too much,” he murmured. His gaze dragged over your face for a second, like he was deciding something. Then his hand moved, coming up to your jaw, firm enough to guide your attention exactly where he wanted it.
“Curiosity’s not the problem,” he said quietly. “It’s restraint.” His thumb brushed lightly along your jaw, like a warning more than a touch. “And you’re testing it, pipsqueak.” His eyes flicked briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes again. “…You sure you want to keep doing that?” he asked.
Tella closed her eyes as she let her forehead rest against his.
"So can I commandeer the Fleet's Colonel starting now? There's that old campsite nearby that we used to go to when we were kids."
Her Hunter's Watch beeped but she quickly silenced it. Pulling away from him, she tapped in a vacation request effectively immediately before turning off the device.
"If you want to run away from the world for a bit, I'll always be by your side."
-🦋
There’s the faintest hint of a smile against your skin, “commandeer, huh? That’s pretty bold of you, pipsqueak.”
But he doesn’t pull away, “The Colonel might have something to say about that,” he murmurs. “Chain of command and all, but I think he’s off-duty.”
Your watch beeps. His hand tightens instinctively, like he already knows what that sound usually means. When you turn it off, his eyes flick down to your hand, then back up to your face. “You’re serious,” he says quietly.
His hand lifts, brushing a strand of hair back behind your ear,
“Old campsite, huh?” he repeats. “The one by the ridge? Where you insisted you could start a fire by yourself and nearly smoked us out?”
“…Yeah. I remember,” his fingers slide back into yours, lacing them together again, “alright. Let’s go.”
Caleb goes very still as your voice softens, your words drifting slower, sleep tugging at each sentence. He doesn’t interrupt. His fingers tighten gently around yours when you lace them together.
A boy named Caleb. Loves apples. Turns into one. A quiet breath leaves him, “…sounds about right,” he murmurs under his breath.
Then you stop mid-story. He waits a second, like maybe you’ll finish it. Your breathing evens out, warm against his chest. Sleep wins.
His hand shifts just slightly so he can hold yours more comfortably. The other comes up to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, careful not to wake you. “A girl found him, huh…” he whispers.
His gaze lingers on you. “…lucky apple.” A small pause. Then, almost like he’s finishing the story for you, “She kept him.” His lips press lightly to your hair, lingering there. “No birds. No running away. Just… stayed.”
The rain continues outside, steady and calming, the fire crackling low as the room settles into quiet. Caleb shifts just enough to pull the blankets higher around you, making sure you’re warm before relaxing back into the pillow.
For the past few weeks, the lecture hall had become a testing ground for Thea’s sanity. It wasn't the professor's monotonous droning on the syllabus, but rather a sound coming from three rows away.
His laugh.
Caleb. He was always surrounded by a crowd, radiating a kind of warmth that made people gravitate toward him like moths to a flame. Thea, firmly rooted in her comfort zone of quiet isolation, found it entirely annoying. Why did he have to be so loud? Why was he so well liked?
But if she was being completely honest with herself, ‘annoyed’ was just a convenient shield. The truth was far more unsettling. Every time that distinct, rich sound echoed across the room, something strange happened. Thea felt a sudden, inexplicable tightness in her chest—as if the very air was escaping her lungs, leaving her momentarily breathless. It was a confusing reaction to a complete stranger, and it made her want to keep her distance even more.
Caleb hadn’t meant to laugh that loud. Okay, no, that was a lie. He always meant to. It just… happened. Easy, natural, like breathing. Someone said something mildly funny, and the sound tore out of him before he could even think about toning it down. The people around him fed off it, too, grinning, leaning in, chasing that reaction like it was a reward.
But lately, something kept tugging at the edge of his awareness. Three rows ahead. Left side. Her. He didn’t know her name. Not yet. But he knew the way she stiffened every time his voice carried across the hall. Knew how she never turned around, not once, even when half the room did. It was… interesting.
Today, he caught it again. The professor droned on about course expectations, the air thick with boredom, and someone beside him muttered a joke. Caleb huffed a laugh, quieter this time, or at least he thought it was, and his gaze drifted forward out of habit.
There it was. That tiny hitch in her posture. A pause in her note-taking, pen hovering too long above the page. His grin faded, just a little. Huh. If she was annoyed, she’d roll her eyes. Glance back. Do something. But she didn’t. She just… endured it. Like his existence was something she had to weather rather than react to. That pricked at him in a way he didn’t expect.
Caleb leaned back in his seat, stretching one arm across the back of the chair beside him, eyes still loosely fixed on the back of her head. There was something off about the whole thing, like he’d stepped into a rhythm he didn’t quite understand yet. And Caleb hated not understanding things.
By the time the lecture ended, he’d already made up his mind. The room filled with the scrape of chairs and low chatter as people packed up. Caleb took his time watching as she gathered her things. Except this time, she wouldn’t get out so easily.
He slipped into the aisle just as she did, timing it so they converged near the exit. “Hey.” His mouth curved into a curious grin. “I’ve been wondering something.” Then, with a tilt of his head, just enough to catch her eyes, “Do I actually bother you,” he asked lightly, “or is that just your face when you’re concentrating?”
Caleb didn’t even flinch at her tone. That sharp edge in her voice just confirmed it. His grin softened. He opened his mouth to press—
“Caleb, are you bothering people again?” Caleb’s head tipped back with a quiet exhale, eyes flicking over Thea’s shoulder. “Unbelievable timing,” he muttered. Gideon stood a few steps away, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jacket, the other holding a half crushed notebook like he’d been using it as a prop more than for actual notes. His expression was dry.
His gaze shifted to Thea, then back to Caleb. “Well?” Gideon added. “Should I apologize on your behalf now, or are you pacing yourself today?” Caleb huffed out a laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m not bothering her,” he said easily, though his eyes slid back to Thea like the answer actually mattered. “We’re having a conversation.”
Gideon’s brow lifted. “Right. And she looks thrilled.” That earned him a sideways glance. Caleb didn’t step away. “She said I’m not,” Caleb added. Gideon hummed, unconvinced, then angled his body slightly toward Thea. “You don’t have to be polite, you know,” he said. “He runs on attention. Starve him a little, it builds character.”
Marina lay awake next to Caleb, listening to his breathing, waiting for the second he sounded like he was waking up. The moment she felt him turn towards her, she pulled him closer. "Happy birthday to you," she began, singing quietly to gently rouse him. "Happy birthday to you." She planted a gentle kiss on his nose. "Happy birthday dear Caleeeeeeeb," she held out the note longer than was necessary. "Happy birthday to you." She finished, putting her hand on his cheek and kissing him gently on the lips.
"I just wanted to be the first one to tell you that today. I couldn't wait anymore," she said, laughing. "Birthday breakfast is my treat. What do you want? I'll bring it to you in bed."
//lol don't worry I won't make us have two threads going, but of course she had to tell him happy birthday 😌
Caleb let out a slow, sleepy exhale, the sound of her voice tugging him gently out of whatever dream he’d been buried in. His brow furrowed for a second before his eyes finally cracked open.
“…mm,” he hummed, lips still lingering where she’d kissed him.
Then a faint smirk pulled at one corner of his mouth. “You practiced that, didn’t you?” he murmured. His hand came up, covering hers where it rested against his cheek.
“The first one, huh…” he added. “Guess I picked the right person to wake up next to.” He shifted closer without hesitation, pulling her into him like it was instinct, forehead nudging lightly against hers before he pressed a slow kiss to her lips.
“Breakfast in bed sounds nice,” he said, voice still husky. “You’re setting a high bar for the rest of the year.”
“…but if you’re asking what I want?” His hand slid down her arm, fingers lacing with hers. “Stay here a bit longer,” he said quietly. “With you. That’s first.”
“…after that, I’ll take apple pancakes. And coffee strong enough to bring me back to life.”
Caleb let himself fall back with a quiet huff as she pushed him down, one brow lifting the moment she settled over him. His hands came up instinctively, resting at her hips, as he looked up at her like she’d just completely taken over his morning.
“…Raise my standards?” he echoed, a soft scoff under his breath, though the corner of his mouth tugged upward. “You’ve met my standards. You’re currently pinning them to the bed.” His thumbs brushed lightly against her sides.
At her question, his gaze flickered to her lips… then back to her eyes. “Oh, I’m curious,” he said quietly, voice dropping a notch. “I’m just trying to figure out if you’re actually gonna tell me…” His fingers tightened ever so slightly at her hips. “…or if this is you enjoying the suspense a little too much.”
He shifted beneath her just enough to tilt his head, brushing his nose lightly along her jaw before his lips hovered near her ear. “Because, pipsqueak,” he murmured, “you don’t usually bring something up unless you plan on following through.”
Pulling back just enough to meet her eyes again, his expression softened. “So, should I be patient…?” His thumb traced a slow line along her side. “…Or are you about to prove your point?”
You're lucky you added the last line, mister. I thought you were gonna leave me to cool off all my myself 🥺
How close do I need to be? Can you show me?
“…You really thought I’d leave you like that?” He clicks his tongue, then walks back toward you. “C’mere.” He reaches out, fingers hooking lightly around your wrist, just enough to guide you forward until you’re right in front of him.
“This close,” he murmurs. His hand slides to your waist, steadying you. “Can’t correct your form from across the room,” he adds. He steps behind you, “Feet shoulder-width,” he says, nudging your stance with his foot. “Knees soft. Don’t lock them.”
His hands hover first, “Hip hinge,” he instructs. “Push back, not down.” He guides the motion just once. “Feel that stretch?” he murmurs near your ear. “That’s what you’re chasing.” He pulls back after a second. “Again. Show me.”
Caleb caught it. The way your voice hitched. The way your eyes lingered just a second too long before snapping back up to his. He didn’t call it out. That would’ve been too easy. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, completely at ease despite the fact that his shirt was now sitting on his lap like a trophy.
“…A two-for-one?” he repeated, one brow lifting slightly. His gaze flicked briefly to the discarded jacket, then back to you. “You’re the one who picked the tank top,” he said. “Not my fault you aimed high.”
But when you challenged him, his posture straightened. “…Confident?” he echoed.
Then, without breaking eye contact, he reached back, grabbed the jacket and folded it once and set it neatly beside him. “I don’t need it,” he said simply. His eyes held yours a second longer.
Then, finally, he reached forward and pulled the last plate toward the center. THERMAGEDDON. Even the name felt like a warning. He picked up a wing, rolling it once between his fingers like he was testing the weight of it.
“…Last round,” he said quietly. Then his gaze flicked back to you. “Same rules. Try not to inhale this one.”
The hallway light is still flickering, too late for anyone sensible to be awake, but Caleb has never been especially interested in “sensible.” His footsteps don’t rush. They never do. That’s what makes it worse.
“Out late again,” he says softly from behind her.
She freezes. Slowly turns.
Caleb is leaning against the wall like he’s been there the whole time the building existed, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly, eyes calm in a way that doesn’t match the tension coiled under it.
“You said you were going home,” she replies, forcing a casual tone.
“I did.” A pause. A faint smile. “Then I realized you didn’t.”
She exhales. “You don’t need to… follow me everywhere.”
That gets a flicker in his expression.
“I’m not following you everywhere,” he says, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “Just where you forget to be careful.”
She takes a step back. “That’s still following.”
Caleb stops exactly where the distance between them feels intentional.
“You get careless when you think no one’s watching,” he says, almost gently. “You stop checking corners. You stop listening.”
“I’m not a child, Caleb.”
“No,” he agrees immediately. Too quickly. “You’re not.”
A stretch of silence.
Then he lifts his hand, not touching her, just hovering near her wrist like he’s resisting something instinctive.
“And yet,” he adds, voice lower now, “you keep disappearing into places that don’t deserve you.”
Her breath catches. “That’s not normal.”
Caleb finally smiles, small, almost tired.
“Normal is overrated, pipsqueak.”
She stiffens at the nickname.
His gaze sharpens just slightly. “Come on,” he says, turning away. “I’ll walk you home.”
It isn’t a question.
It never is.
Part 2
The night air feels colder once they start walking.
She keeps a careful half step ahead of him, like distance alone can turn this into something normal. Caleb doesn’t comment on it. He never comments on the obvious things.
Streetlights slide over them in slow intervals, light, shadow, light again, like the city is blinking sleepily.
“You don’t have to escort me,” she says again, quieter this time.
“I know,” Caleb replies.
That almost makes it worse.
She glances at him. “Then why are you doing it?”
He doesn’t answer right away. A car passes, headlights washing over his face for a second. When the light fades, his expression is still the same, calm, unreadable, patient in a way that feels practiced.
“Because you forget things,” he says finally.
“I don’t forget how to walk home.”
A faint exhale, almost a laugh, but not quite.
“No,” he agrees. “You forget people exist who don’t care if you make it home.”
That makes her stop walking.
Caleb stops too, immediately. Like he was never going to be more than one step away anyway.
“That’s not fair,” she says.
“I’m not trying to be fair.” His voice softens, but only slightly. “I’m trying to be right.”
The silence between them tightens.
Then he tilts his head, studying her like she’s a problem he’s already solved but keeps double checking anyway.
“You were in District 6 again,” he says.
Her stomach drops. “How do you—”
“I told you not to go there.”
“That’s not your decision!”
For the first time, something sharper flashes through him, gone almost instantly, but real enough to feel like a blade seen under water.
“It becomes my decision,” he says quietly, “when you don’t come back on time.”
Then, softer again, almost too gentle, “Let’s keep this simple,” Caleb adds, stepping closer just enough that she has to tilt her head up to keep eye contact. “You don’t go there again. And I don’t have to worry.”
His hand finally lifts, this time brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
Marina lay awake next to Caleb, listening to his breathing, waiting for the second he sounded like he was waking up. The moment she felt him turn towards her, she pulled him closer. "Happy birthday to you," she began, singing quietly to gently rouse him. "Happy birthday to you." She planted a gentle kiss on his nose. "Happy birthday dear Caleeeeeeeb," she held out the note longer than was necessary. "Happy birthday to you." She finished, putting her hand on his cheek and kissing him gently on the lips.
"I just wanted to be the first one to tell you that today. I couldn't wait anymore," she said, laughing. "Birthday breakfast is my treat. What do you want? I'll bring it to you in bed."
//lol don't worry I won't make us have two threads going, but of course she had to tell him happy birthday 😌
Caleb let out a slow, sleepy exhale, the sound of her voice tugging him gently out of whatever dream he’d been buried in. His brow furrowed for a second before his eyes finally cracked open.
“…mm,” he hummed, lips still lingering where she’d kissed him.
Then a faint smirk pulled at one corner of his mouth. “You practiced that, didn’t you?” he murmured. His hand came up, covering hers where it rested against his cheek.
“The first one, huh…” he added. “Guess I picked the right person to wake up next to.” He shifted closer without hesitation, pulling her into him like it was instinct, forehead nudging lightly against hers before he pressed a slow kiss to her lips.
“Breakfast in bed sounds nice,” he said, voice still husky. “You’re setting a high bar for the rest of the year.”
“…but if you’re asking what I want?” His hand slid down her arm, fingers lacing with hers. “Stay here a bit longer,” he said quietly. “With you. That’s first.”
“…after that, I’ll take apple pancakes. And coffee strong enough to bring me back to life.”
Caleb let out a soft, sleepy huff of a laugh, “Forever, huh?” he murmured. His hand tightened around hers as she kissed his knuckles, his thumb lazily brushing over her fingers in return. “Pipsqueak… I might actually hold you to it if you keep this up.”
He shifted slightly, just enough to pull her even closer. “…This is already kinda perfect.” His free hand slid along her side, “But, you did wake me up with kisses and promises of apple pancakes. That’s a dangerous combo.” His lips curved into a lazy grin. “I’m gonna start expecting this kind of treatment every birthday.”
He nudged her nose lightly with his. “And maybe… a few random mornings in between.” His gaze flickered over her face, “…You really were waiting to wake me up, huh?” he asked.
Sad news, I'm currently not able to get in the pool for the next week and my back hurts. Good news, I have a 30 count box of bags of popcorn! -🐟🍏
Hey… that’s rough, pipsqueak. No pool and a sore back? I don’t like that combo at all.
But hey, 30 bags of popcorn? Sounds like the universe is bribing you into a cozy, low effort week. Guess I’ll just have to keep you company while you work through that stash, huh?
