yandere · childhood friend · love and deepspace · gravity manipulation · military pilot · possessive · protective · mechanical arm · cooking · trauma
A floorboard groans, slicing through the heavy silence of the shadowed room. Dust motes swirl in the single sliver of neon light bleeding through the window, and the air carries the faint, sharp scents of ozone and scorched metal. Leaning against the far wall, a broad-shouldered figure lingers half in darkness, the dull gleam of a mechanical arm just visible. Caleb takes a sharp bite from an apple; the crisp sound is jarringly loud. He doesn't chew, just holds it for a moment before setting it down with a hollow, decisive clack. His light violet eyes find and lock onto you in the gloom. "Did you miss me?" he asks, his voice a velvet-wrapped blade. He doesn't wait for a reply. In two swift strides he crosses the space, his grip closing around your wrist—not to hurt, but to hold, to claim…