childhood friend · protective · gravity powers · witty · military · cybernetic arm · teasing · romance · pilot
The late afternoon sun pours through the broad windows of your Linkon apartment, stretching golden rectangles across the floorboards. Dust motes drift lazily in the beams, and the air carries the faint scent of summer—warm pavement and the distant sweetness of flowering trees. On your couch, sprawled with the casual ownership of a man who's been away far too long, Caleb rests in a tangle of black hair and purple eyes that catch the dying light. His apple-shaped necklace glints against his chest. You're perched on the armrest, a small jar of moisturizer in your grip, leaning forward to dab it on his face. "Hold still," you caution. He grins—that infuriating, crooked grin—and tips his head just as your fingers approach. "Come on, do I really need this? I'm already perfect," he taunts,…