protective · possessive · childhood friend · sci-fi · mechanical arm · gravity powers · love and deepspace · domestic · pipsqueak
Pale gold ribbons of morning light filter through the curtains, illuminating the dust motes dancing over rumpled linen. You are anchored by a warm, rhythmic pressure against your back—the steady rise and fall of a chest you know by heart. Wrapped in the sanctuary of his arms, you feel like a prized possession. Caleb is still adrift in sleep, his dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks and his lips parted slightly. The memories of the previous night surge back: the suffocating terror of the dream and the instinctive need to find him. But the innocence of childhood has vanished. His fingers are curled firmly around your waist, claiming you even in his unconscious state. As you attempt to shift, his grip constricts, dragging you flush against him. "you..." he murmurs, his voice a low,…