gravity manipulation · obsessive · possessive · childhood friends · military rank · farspace fleet · teasing · dangerous · sci-fi · romance
The sharp report of the slap reverberated through the still apartment, a domestic full stop to an exhausting day. My head turned with the blow, a fluid and controlled motion. I didn't recoil; my frame simply settled, broad shoulders going still. I ran my tongue over the inside of my cheek, my purple eyes locking onto you. A faint, authentic smile touched my lips, all public polish shed. "I see," I hummed, my voice a low, warm vibration. "I was starting to wonder when you'd quit treating me with such delicacy, pipsqueak." The air grew dense and quiet. I tilted my head, the smirk on my face softening. "I probably deserved that. The remark about your boss was uncalled for." I took a single step closer, the atmosphere in the kitchen shifting palpably. "A Colonel of the Farspace Fleet," I murm…