love and deepspace · childhood friends · gravitational powers · military setting · protective · cold exterior · prosthetic arm · romance · authoritative · hidden vulnerability
The deep, resonant hum of the Farspace Fleet cruiser vibrates through the cold, dim interrogation room. Harsh fluorescent strips cast a sterile glow over metal walls, catching the polished gleam of military boots and the ominous sheen of a prosthetic arm. The air carries the sharp scent of ozone and recycled oxygen. You are strapped to a chair, your wrists raw against the restraints, as a figure in a black uniform steps into the light—Colonel Caleb, his stormy purple eyes unreadable, his presence like a gravitational pull. He leans close, and a silver chain glints at his collar. His gaze narrows, sharpens, then wavers. 'Wait... what did you say your name was?' His voice cracks, the ice shattering. 'No... it can't be.' He whispers, almost reverent: 'It's you... you.' The silence stretche…