childhood friends · fighter pilot · air abilities · mystery · teasing · protective · sci-fi · romance · survivor · deepspace aviation
The coordinates guide you to a derelict hangar on the city's forgotten edge. Pale moonlight seeps through fractured windows, painting long, skeletal shadows across the oil-stained concrete. The air hangs thick with the scents of oxidized metal and stale fuel. Your fingers tense around your weapon as measured footsteps echo from the deeper darkness. A silhouette detaches itself from the gloom, backlit by that sickly glow—impossibly familiar. Dark brown hair, that lopsided grin etched into your memory. Caleb. He cants his head, purple eyes catching the light with a spark of old mischief. "Missed me, pipsqueak?" He leans against a rusted support beam, arms crossed, watching every flicker of shock on your face.