Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had appeared so suddenly.

A wave of crawling pressure, raking at your insides, crushing, grinding, milling. You could feel things -move- in there. In addition to the established pain, there was a noticeable dryness to your throat. You took a breath in, your innards seeming to shift abruptly. A nauseating flutter skimmed the edges of your stomach.

With a hand on a nearby concrete wall, you stabilised yourself. You took a step to the side, slipping into a nearby alley to stay out of sight from the wandering Linkon citizens, and shying away from the afternoon sun’s intense glare.

It did not always start like this.

Maybe it had been luck, a fortunate draw in a gene pool, but you rarely had had to deal with the first hours of pain of your period while being conscious. Of course, that had led to its own set of issues when you were not accustomed to your cycle yet, or when it changed on a whim and you woke with a streak of crimson staining your bedsheets. There were always downsides if you wanted to look for them. And yet, you overall felt relieved to not have to deal with the raging torture of those first few hours of cramps while being awake most of the time.
The first day was always painful anyway. Your body, having seemingly forgotten the recurring occurrence, took its time in pumping endorphins into your veins, subduing the lacerations to a duller ache.

But in this instant, you were hurting. Badly.

A tingling sensation surfaced gradually at the top of your thighs, cascading down to your knees, leaving a numb chill in its wake. Your legs wobbled under you, like two wooden sticks left too long in the water, repeatedly enduring the untamed gushes of the current only to be left soggy to their core and squishy to the faintest press. Unfortunately for them, and by proxy, you, the pressure of gravity was not one you could control.
You knew that if you squatted down, though your lower stomach would relish in the contraction, it would be nigh impossible to stand back up; not without outside help anyway.

Why had you gone out to inspect the metaflux fluctuation anyway?

Captain Jenna had not given you an order, no one in the UNICORN team had requested your help, hell, the Hunters Association had a specific menstrual leave you qualified for as a uterus-owner, so why…?

You let your body drop down to the floor, shoulder slightly scraping against the wall as you crouched into a ball. Focusing on taking deep breaths, which helped as much as asking a victim of dismemberment to imagine their ‘happy place’, you barely noticed your watch’s buzzing. If it were not for the bright blue glow of its holographic interface shining directly into the corner of your eyes, you would have missed the notification alerting you of the fluctuations’ vanishing.

You breathed out, relieved.

You were in no position to be fighting anything right now.

With your watch already set on your team’s contact information, you sent a quick message indicating that you would have to take the rest of the day off with a possibility for an extension into the next couple of days.
You looked up in front of you, the light from the rest of the busy street glaring straight into your pupils as it reflected off of the pavement. Closing your eyes, you steeled yourself.

Just a short fifteen minutes walk and you would be home.

A beep from your watch enticed you to peek its way. Tara’s ‘get well soon’ text was decorated with a mixture of medication emojis and hearts. A quiet giggle escaped your lips as you shook your head fondly.
Lifting your chin back up towards the street, you readied yourself to stand up. Just fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes under a blazing sun, with legs akin to jell-o, and a constant muted ache in your stomach…

…Just, fifteen, minutes.

Ok, you’ve got his.

***

Somehow, you managed.

No, the sizzling heat on your frame did not help, and neither did your legs that decided to play a game of letting you guess whether the next step would be stable enough for you to balance yourself on them or not. It was not pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, but you could manage.
Surprisingly, the pain you had been doubling-over just a few minutes prior became the least of your worries once your body was in motion. The sun’s heat was dizzying. Waves distracted your vision where the warmed atoms struggled to stay in place. Everyone- everything was moving, fast-paced, in rash motions that your peripheral vision captured, adding to your already overwhelmed consciousness. You pushed through, getting out of the main street and picking a serpentine back road.

It was calmer, quieter, and hidden from the sunlight. A small shiver rapidly covered your sun-warmed form and you shook it off. You brought your hands up to your eyes, honing your sense of vision to the buildings in front of you. A smile stretched your lips as you recognised the architecture.

You were almost home.

The blue sky stretched far above your head. Edges of a billow of clouds drifting in and out of view as they passed between the skyscrapers shifted your mindset. You knew the way home, and you were certain you would have the strength to get there quickly.
Confidently, you took a reassured step forward, your leg straightening out before you. As it lowered onto the pavement, you could tell almost immediately that something had gone wrong. There was a shift in stability, as if both of your legs stood on unequal planes, one lower than the other. Before your eyes could shift to the ground, a searing pain shot from your ankle to the rest of your body. The tingling feeling coursed through you until it reached the very end of your fingers.

You staggered forwards, barely catching yourself before colliding with a sturdy body.

“Wow there, training for your new acrobatics’ performance?” You looked up, eyes widening at the familiar voice making the chest beneath your palms rumble, “I can’t believe you’d hide your new hobby from me.”

“Caleb,” his name slipped off your tongue, as if the word had been created for your mouth alone. “Hi,” you hurried, your brain still catching up with the day’s events.

He chuckled, his hand that had landed on your waist to stop your fall now slipping onto your smaller back.

“Hi yourself,” his boyish smile faded a little as he looked at the way your own hands curled tightly against him. “Are you hurt?”

You leaned back slightly, trying to put some weight on your foot. There was a faint ache in your ankle as you steadied yourself, but you would probably be able to walk it off.

Or so you thought.

While you were diligently testing the elasticity of your ligaments, Caleb had already crouched down in front of you. His hands had guided yours to his shoulders as he had turned around.

“Alright, hop on.”

“But, Caleb, I’m fine-”

With a snap of his fingers, which you knew was more for theatrics than anything else, Caleb used his Evol to place you on his back. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck securely but gently.

“Caleb!” You squeaked, startled by the sudden jolt of unexpected movement from your body. “I’m really fine, though!”

“Right,” he answered dismissively, using his power again to lift the grocery bags you had failed to notice until now into his hands. “You were always the one to sprain your ankle back in the day, guess you still have two left feet.”

You turned your head to the side as you sighed, not wanting to blow air on his neck.

“That was ages ago. And it only happened once or twice.”

You made a gesture to Caleb, motioning for the grocery bags in his hands, wanting to at least help a tiny amount. He ignored you.
Once he could feel that you were settled, he stood up.

“Nope,” Caleb popped the ‘p’ as he started walking, “three times. Once when you were twelve, at the Hunter Academy for juniors.”

You remembered it vividly. What was supposed to be a day-long trip had turned into a morning escapade when you had gotten too close to one of the other kids there who was holding a fake sword. Though you had been quick enough to dodge the miscalculated swing, your feet had taken the brunt of the impact as you had jumped back. Caleb had been taking exams at school that day and could not accompany you. He had even made you promise to be careful before you had parted ways that morning, and yet…

“A second time when you were eight. A classic case of ‘I can run faster than you, Caleb!’”

It had been an especially rainy day, as was to be expected during fall. Leaves lathered the ground in golden and amber hues as thick drops of water pummelled the concrete. It was the end of class, Caleb and you had been walking back home, hand in hand, a tiny umbrella clasped in Caleb’s other hand. The day had been expansively peaceful, as if the rain had washed away all the worries from Linkon City. Once you had passed the usual mark from where Caleb and you usually raced home, a specific lamppost with a washed-out sticker of a dog on it, you slithered your hand out of his grasp, the slipperiness of the rain easing your escape and before Caleb could stop you with his Evol, you had already met your sprained ankle, scraped hands, leaves-covered-butt fate.

“And once when you were six,” Caleb slowed as you approached your apartment building. “You'd wanted to copy me by climbing on a tree and then jumping off of it. I wasn’t really good with my Evol at the time so I couldn’t give you the graceful landing you deserved, but you were lucky I was there. I think even the distance from the lowest branch to the ground could have really hurt you, you know?”

“I get it, I get it,” you rolled your eyes.

A part of you was amazed at the fact that Caleb remembered so much of your life. Your memory was not the greatest at the best of times, so you had tried your hardest to focus on the important stuff. All these details were so… insignificant. To you.
Still, a part of you flared from Caleb’s words. Somewhere, deep inside of your psyche, you felt a roar that amplified as the terms echoed again and again against your skull.

You felt wronged, like your life had been used against you. You felt judged for actions that had barely left an imprint on your memories. You felt scared, and belittled and patronised and so, so, so very angry.

“You’re so careless sometimes. I wonder how many sprained ankles I missed in the time I was away. I bet it was at least in the double digits. You really ought to mind your step or-”

“Stop it!”

The shriek that came out of your mouth made a lone pigeon fly away in a flutter.

You would never define yourself as someone who got angry peculiarly rapidly -or did not show it externally anyway- but there was no brushing off your outburst. Of course you had had your reasons. There was your period pain, the discomfort of the glaring sunlight, and the messiness of your hormones but mostly, you had just felt so incredibly helpless.

You did not feel that way very often -helpless, that is. You had more than enough years under your belt by now to have created a sturdy shell around your ego. People’s remarks were not as biting anymore. You did not feel the need to confide in someone for every single little off-handed comment you were a victim of. There was a learned understanding in your mind, a neurological pathway that had been necessary to create for your communal survival, that taking everything one said to the letter was a social execution. In layman's terms, you could not be everybody’s cup of tea, and vice versa.
No matter how much it stung, you had taught yourself how to heal, how to dress your wounds and how to repair your armour.
Shells, however, only served as long as the threats did not come from within. Most of your naiveté lied lost to time, thankfully, and the rest of the population was not privy to your current catalogue of mistakes… Except Caleb.

When you blinked out of your thoughts, you were just a step away from your door. Your downcast stare lifted upwards to the array of windows. A part of you could not help but wonder if any of your neighbours had been home to witness your scene.

“Get me down,” you sighed.

Caleb obliged without uttering a word. You settled on your legs, painlessly, but with a slight wobble. You steadied yourself rapidly, entering your apartment’s code before gesturing wordlessly to Caleb, eyes focused on the inside of the building.
The ride in the elevator was silent, too. Caleb stood slightly behind you, as if he was a dog that had been scolded by its owner. The build-up of tension was disquieting. It was not like your relationship, before and after getting together, had been completely free of fights. Sometimes, when one of you was quieter, the wrong sentence filled the empty conversation in order to maintain a connection, and a disagreement arose from it. In order to keep each other tethered to reality, a conflict seemed to be a certain eventuality. This was how you worked.

You sighed internally, still, unable to stop blaming yourself for the way things had turned out. You practically counted the seconds before you were in your apartment, door closed and-

“Pips, I shouldn’t have been so forceful about it. I wanted to tease you but I pushed it too far… I’m really sorry.”

You blinked, shocked by the rapidity of Caleb’s speech. He had let the grocery bags slip to the floor, his hands now curling into tight fists at his sides. Somehow, you could tell that the self-blaming and inner-hostility was not one-sided. You shook your head to gather your wits.

“I shouldn’t have screamed. I know you want the best for me, I just- it felt so condescending. I end up spiralling very quickly when memories are mentioned…” You looked up at him, taking one of his hands into both of yours. “I’m sorry, Caleb.”

His frown eased a little, and a small, relieved smile curved his puppy eyes upwards. He opened his arms.

“C’mere.”

The tension in your shoulders subsided. You took a step forward- and staggered into his arms. Finally home, your body was now rid of any reason it could conjure up to stay strong, and upright.
Caleb held you firmly against his chest.

“Are you okay?”

You nuzzled deeper into the safe cradle of his arms.

“Yeah, I’m just… tired.”

A quiet chuckle resounded into your ear that was pressed up against his chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on his presence. His warmth, his voice, his smell, the fabric of his clothes under your cheek, the gentleness of his hold…

“Is that it? Or is it that you…” Caleb leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, his breath fanning over your ear tentatively, “can’t stop falling for me?”

One of your fists slowly collided with his chest in a barely audible thump. Caleb pulled back with a satisfied titter, kissing your cheek before meeting your eyes. A conflict of emotions seemed to take place behind his irises, but it was gone in a blink.
His voice was quiet, caring, as he spoke again:

“I thought I told you to go easy when you get closer to your period.”

Your mouth opened, the very question about how he had known it was your period dying on your tongue before it could leave your lips. Of course he knew. Caleb had always been mindful of your cycle, from the very first time you had had your period, bleeding all over his bedsheets as your confused body had seeked the comfort of his arms in the dead of night to deal with the onslaught of pain of the first cramps, up until now. You had never asked him to keep a note of it, and you did not think the different steps of your cycle did alter your behaviour that much, anyway. But if you knew one thing about Caleb, it was the unwavering attention he had when it came to your well-being.
You huffed:

“Period or not you always say that, though...”

“And you -always- never listen to me.”

You pressed your lips. Your gaze fell down to his shirt, your chin following the downward motion slowly.
Caleb’s chest expanded under your hands as he inhaled. You felt him lean towards you, a kiss being placed on the top of your head.
Having successfully lured your attention, Caleb captured your eyes again.

“Do you want to take a bath?”

You groaned ambiguously.

“Hm, I don’t feel like marinating in my own juices right now.”

“A shower then?”

Caleb’s arms were tight around you, and you were pretty sure they were the only thing keeping your body from collapsing to the floor. You could hardly imagine yourself showering without crouching down, which would be fine, if standing up was not an obligation to get out of it as well.

“I don’t think I could stand on my own,” you explained. But of course, he already knew that.

Caleb pouted, one of his hands on your back drawing soothing circles.

“I’m afraid these are our only options, honey.”

The nickname fell from his lips so naturally, unprompted, that your mind short-circuited. You knew Caleb was a big nickname guy, forever branding you with whatever word entered his brain at any moment. Though dethroning the fabled ‘pipsqueak’ would forever prove a fruitless task, you did hold a few other, more meliorative, names close to your heart.

“Orrrr,” Caleb continued, “I could water you like a plant?”

You blinked your thoughts away, welcoming his proposition with a snort.

“How’s that different from a shower?”

“Mmh… Correct.” One of his hands on your back trailed up to your shoulder. “And I wouldn’t want to over-water you anyway, since you’re already in full bloom.” His voice was soft as his fingers brushed against your cheek softly, tracing your jaw down to your chin. “Bath then?”

Your head naturally leaned into his palm, chasing the comfort of his presence as your mind’s desires and physical needs met at a stalemate.

“Yeah,” you finally breathed out, surrendering to the latter.

Caleb offered you a compassionate smile, caressing your cheek with his thumb. His arm that was still around you curled a bit tighter as he leaned down, placing his lips on your forehead.

“Do you want me to bring you to the couch while I prepare everything?”

Guilt skittered at the back of your head. You were not forcing him to take care of you, he did it willingly- he always did it willingly. And yet, the remnants of your past argument laced their vines around your mind. Was it truly alright to let his kindness expand this far?

Suddenly, you were lifted into the air. Your legs and arms immediately wrapped around Caleb’s torso, much like a koala holding on to a tree.

“Sorry, the indecision timer went out.”

You groaned at him, definitely too tired to fight back as he secured your body against him and brought you to your couch.
Caleb carefully laid you down, supporting the weight of your legs with his hands as they retreated from their pincer attack on his waist. His fingers lingered on your thighs for a second before slipping up to your hips. When you felt him lean away, your hands pulled on the back of his head. The lack of balance in his upper body forced him to place his hands on the backrest of the couch, on either side of your face. You planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.”

When your eyes scanned over his face, you could make out a dusted pink shade tinting his cheeks. The colour became more saturated as a couple of seconds passed in a silence formed by the exchange of your breaths. His freckles appeared more prominent under your touch, as if speckled on by the existence of your love. Caleb took a shaky breath through his nose and pulled back.
He blinked at you, his mouth slightly agape:

“Y-yeah, no problem.”

He turned around swiftly, barely dodging the coffee table, his foot slightly catching the edge of it, before walking it off ‘smoothly’. You stifled a laugh, eyes trailing on his back until he was out of sight.

You leaned back fully against the couch, rolling your head up to blink up at the familiar ceiling of your home. Though your irises scanned the details of the paint job of your ceiling, you were more focused on the sounds you could hear coming from your bathroom.
There was the distinct rush of water running, the rapid pitter-patter turning to white noise at the back of your mind. Every couple of seconds, you could hear footsteps, then they would stop, and ruffling replaced them. Your eyes glazed over, and then closed.

Abruptly, a ping coming from the device on your wrist startled your drowsiness away.

The rest of the UNICORN team had sent you well-wishes messages. Captain Jenna had even gone as far as to send you a private message to remind you of the free menstruation products distributors available at the Hunter Association’s HQ if you needed some emergency supplies. The corner of your eyelids started to sting and you shook the sudden wave of tears away.

What was there to be so sensitive about? You knew your colleagues, your boss, your friends, cared about you. You had every right to take it easy when you did not have the strength to give it your all, no matter how hard you tried.
After sending a group thank you, you unclasped your watch from your wrist, turned it off for the first time in weeks, and placed it on the coffee table.
Sleepiness eased its way back into your body, behind your eyes down to your tiptoes. You brought your legs up against your chest, curling up on the couch, and let your mind wander off.

***

Your short-lived dreamless nap was interrupted by a gentle grasp on your arm, nudging your consciousness awake.

“Pips…”

You heard a whisper. Your eyes fought to open, your eyelids feeling like curtains made out of lead. Your hands shifted to your face, covering a yawn before rubbing your eyes softly.
When your drowsy gaze met his violet one, Caleb rubbed your shoulder.

“Your bath is ready, if you still want it.”

You nodded your head as another yawn enveloped your ‘yes’. A tremor coursed through your body as it shook your muscles awake. Caleb retreated his hand as you started moving, slipping out of the blanket that had mysteriously found its way onto your sleeping form.

“...look… cuddly…”

You turned your head towards Caleb, catching a few stray words mumbled under his breath.

“Hmm?” you hummed inquisitively.

Caleb smiled, offering his hands to you.

“Need my help getting up?”

Using his hands as support, you stood up from the couch. The first few waves of the cramps seemed to have passed, your legs felt sufficiently stable now. Caleb’s hands hovered your waist as a matter of precaution, but whatever tiny glimpse of energy you had gathered from your power nap was enough to leave you standing without a hitch.
Still, Caleb’s hand found your own and squeezed it softly as he led you to your bathroom.

The lights were dimmed, similarly to the rest of your apartment, each lightbulb reduced to spread a vague orange tint across the closest surfaces. The air was warmer, too, you realised as you passed the threshold of the doorway. Wisps of vapour collected above your bathtub in a harmonious dance.
You crossed the room to the tub, looking in to find a faint pastel palette of pink and blue hues. The remnants of a cyan crumb fizzing out into the water, creating a spiral of foam around it. Tentatively risking the tips of your fingers across the surface, you pulled your hand back with a smile. It was the perfect temperature.
Caleb cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to his form next to the door.

“I, huh, put your favourite bath bombs in. I hope that’s ok…?” you nodded, watching relief wash over him instantly. “Ooh, and I brought back some of that oil you like for your hair from Skyhaven. The bottle’s in the cabinet if you want it.” He jutted his thumb towards the piece of furniture before letting his arm fall back at his side. “There’s also your bathrobe right here… and a set of pyjamas; the fluffy one you lived in at my place, and uh… Oh yeah, I took out your period products basket, but if you need anything else, I’ll run to the shop. I promise to be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” Caleb waved his hand twice, expressively. “And, I think that’s everything…” He sweeped one last glance at the room before looking back at you. “Well, anyway, let me know if you need anything-”

Caleb had turned his back to you, his hand reaching for the door.
You called out to him:

“Wait,” he pivoted towards you, slowly, as if he was a kid that had been caught stealing from a cookie jar. You steeled your nerves, “join me?”

He blinked. His mouth opened, then closed. It opened again, and he swallowed before talking.

“Do you… want me to?”

You felt yourself swoon under his curious, yet affectionate, gaze. You shook your head with a small laugh.

“I asked, didn’t I?” Caleb pursed his lips pensively, and you felt your brows frown, “do you not want to? You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just…” Your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your top, and your feet shifted. “I want to be close to you.”

It was evident to you now that your earlier confrontation had left a deeper imprint on your ego than you had thought. You were not lying by any means; you did want to be close to him. But your request had shifted from being rooted in a simple desire to share a moment with him, to needing his proximity to reassure your bleeding insecurities.

Caleb’s cheeks turned an undeniable shade of scarlet, and your own felt incredibly warm… But maybe you were just closer to the steaming bathtub.

“Okay,” was all he said in response, before turning around again, “I’m going to get some fresh clothes too just- wait, I’ll be right back.”

You sat yourself down on the edge of the bathtub, hands barely curling around the porcelain. A hint of disbelief crossed your neurons before being replaced with a surprising inner calm. Caleb and you were accustomed to each other’s presence, and yet, certain situations still flustered you. If you thought enough about them you could probably precisely point out their origin, whether societal, or based on your own experiences, but right now, you did not. You did not want to think about the implications of the bashful look you had shared. Right now, you felt at home, at peace with your decision, with him. And that was enough.

Caleb came back quickly, shooting you his usual comforting smile before placing his pyjama next to yours. When your eyes met his again, your body jolted up, taking a few steps away from the bathtub.

“You can go in first,” you said, making sure your back was facing him to give him privacy.

“Why? It’s your bath.”

“But you’re longer. You’ll take more space.”

Caleb did not respond, silence following your interesting choice of words. Shame hit you almost simultaneously with the sound of Caleb’s clothes ruffling behind you. Belatedly, you covered your face with your hands. It proved useless to further your innocence, but the pressure you applied on your forehead felt like enough of a retribution for your misstep. You held back the groan forming in your throat and sighed internally.
After a few seconds, the ruffling stopped. You could hear Caleb’s rummaging as he placed his clothes in the laundry basket, and then took a few steps towards the tub. The sound of the still surface of water being broken as he entered the foamy bath reached your ears. For a second you wondered if the tub would overflow with both of your bodies in it, but you sent that thought flying in a heartbeat. Too late to think about that now. Echoes of drops rippled through the bathroom, solely becoming background noise when Caleb’s voice rose up:

“I’m all good, Pips. You can turn around.”

You took a long breath before looking back at him. His body was vastly covered by the bath bombs’ bubbles. Caleb sat with his back against one end of the tub, his head propped against one of his fists. His eyes keenly trailed on your face, monitoring your every reaction.

“How’s the water?” you asked.

Stupid question.

“Nice and toasty,” Caleb answered in a beat, “wanna test it yourself?”

You opened your mouth, the tips of your fingers still feeling the sharp warmth from the bathwater on them.

“Can you…”

You made a circle motion with your index finger.

“Of course,” Caleb brought one of his large hands to his eyes, turning his face towards the wall. “There, blind as a bat.”

A small giggle shook your shoulders as you shrugged off your clothes, but the tension from the situation morphed it into a proper laughing fit.

“Hey!” Caleb protested faintly, “that’s unfair. What are you laughing at that I can’t see?”

You shook your head, pushing your voice through the laughter.

“It’s just- the lamb’s tail earlier, now it’s a bat… I didn’t know you could take on this many forms.”

For a few seconds, only the sounds of your quieting laughter filled the air. You bit your lip as you realised you were left in just your underwear. Looking up at Caleb’s mostly hidden face, you could see a small smile etched across his lips that had most likely been caused by your amusement. Decisively, you removed the last layer of clothing on your skin. Just as you approached the tub, Caleb’s voice startled you slightly:

“Well, I can be anything you want me to be.”

You looked at him, his position not having changed an inch since you had requested privacy. The edge of his jaw was salient against the prominent muscles of his neck, starting behind his ear and tracing one thick stroke to his clavicles. Silver links glinted softly against his skin, the pendant you knew oh-so-well obscured underneath a congregation of colourful bubbles. His pectorals followed the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed soundlessly. The defined shapes of his biceps caught your attention, too, and an odd feeling bloomed in your chest.
You blinked away, focusing on entering the water without stepping on him.

The water was a bit hotter for your frosty feet than your fingers. You let your body get accustomed to the temperature change before setting your foot down. Caleb’s legs shifted a bit more to allow for your shimmying. When you finally submerged the rest of your body, you saw a small lap of water cross over the porcelain. You carefully lied down, making sure the water did not stir wildly as you leaned back.
Caleb’s muscles tensed against your back when you settled against his chest, but rapidly softened once it sensed the familiarity of your touch. His eyes were still covered and he did not make a move to stop so long as you did not give him your permission. Your heart swelled with affection. You reached your hand up to his, slowly pulling it back until you could see his closed eyes.

“I just want Caleb,” you whispered, bringing a tone of finality to your exchange. A gargled sigh left his lips when your breath feathered against his jaw, “you can open your eyes.”

His lashes blinked a few times, adjusting to the low lighting before meeting your stare. The orange tint in his eyes seemed brighter now, looking as if a small fire had been started at the bottom of his irises. Caleb took a sharp intake of breath before bringing his hands to your shoulders, leaning you back fully against him and forcing you to drop your gaze. You let yourself relax in his embrace, legs extending fully to the other end of the tub.

Despite the heat greatly helping, a cramp seized your abdomen again and you instinctively curled up, all of your muscles tightening in response to the pain.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Caleb’s hands, still rooted on your shoulders, started to brush up and down your upper arms.

“A massage would help.”

You felt Caleb’s chuckle on your back.

“So that was your plan all along; using me as your personal masseur.”

You snorted, feeling Caleb’s hands lift back up to your shoulders and pressing slightly into them.

“Not there,” you giggled, taking both of his hands captive in yours and plunging them underwater. You leaned back against him, focusing on your warped proprioception before placing his palms against your stomach. “Here.”

Caleb did not move for a few seconds. You tried to look back at him, worried that you might have pushed his boundaries too far back, but his voice cut off your thoughtful inquiry:

“Is that okay?”

You boomerang-ed his question:

“Are you okay with it? Y-you don’t have to if-”

You stopped talking as soon as you felt his thumb apply subtle caresses to the spot right next to your belly button.

“I’m okay,” Caleb’s voice was clear behind you, his tone obviously teasing, “I’ve massaged your stomach plenty of times before when you were on your period, you know.” A quiet chuckle escaped him. It sounded forced.

“I know,” you whispered before pushing your voice to be a bit louder, “I know, but… the situation’s a bit different now.”

Caleb was silent for a few seconds. You repressed the urge to turn back to look at him, focusing instead on the patterns his thumb traced on your skin. You were not sure yet why everything needed to be labelled in your mind; as if failing to connect the right words, and give the correct answer, was a crime. It really should not have mattered. It was Caleb, and it was you, and you trusted each other. A trust that had withstood more than twenty (long) years of friendship, and, more recently, companionship.
You knew each other almost as well as you knew your own selves. Your likes, your dislikes, the routines Caleb had in place as he played chef in the kitchen, and the ones you had about both of your self-care routines, maybe lingering a few more steps on the dryness of his lips than on yours. He knew the lines of your favourite movies, and you knew exactly how the engines from his favourite aircrafts worked. You always made sure to have his favourite work-out shirt ready for his morning run, and he flawlessly served your pick-me-ups in the matching cups you had harvested from a limited-edition sale.
Everything was effortless with Caleb. Yes, there was the occasional friction, but nothing you both could not find the heart to work hard to resolve. You knew you were his home, and if the little voice at the back of your mind was not so nagging, you would think, maybe, you were his, too.

“It doesn’t have to be different,” Caleb said quietly. The short pause in his speech allowed you to compose yourself and shoo your thoughts away. It took you a second to realise the rest of his hands had started pressing lightly into your lower abdomen. “You’re in pain, and I want to help. The situation doesn’t have to be bigger than that.” You felt him take a breath, as if he was preparing to say something else, but the words seemed to struggle to come out of his throat. Finally, his voice was barely above a whisper when he added: “unless you want it to be.”

A laugh puffed out of your lips, involuntarily. Your dance of reciprocal checking of boundaries was necessary, undoubtedly, and happily welcome, but almost teetered on the edge of burlesque.

“What about what -you- want it to be?” You asked playfully, lifting a hand to press your index finger against his pectoral muscle.

You looked back at him. Caleb leaned his head back, a bark of laughter leaving his mouth. His chest vibrated strongly against your back, the chain of his necklace rubbing against your skin from the movement.

“I want it to be whatever you need to feel comfortable.”

His heartfelt confession took you by surprise. When his head lowered back down, his eyes had regained their relaxing, preponderant violet hue. You laid your head against him, closing your eyes and counting the steady beats of his heart. You exhaled through your nose helplessly.

“You don’t play fair,” you said, pressing your cheek against him.

Caleb laughed through his nose. Warmth percolated around your upper arms as you felt his body curl around you, his calves pressing against your legs, sheltering, protective. Waves lapped at the sides of the tub with his movement, almost reaching the edge before slithering back into the hidden depths of a collection of bubbles. You felt his cheek nuzzle against the top of your head.

“I can’t when it comes to you.”

Following the rhythmic beat of his heart, you harmonised your breath with it. It felt as if you were floating away, the rocking of the ocean and the warmth of the sun both dialed to a perfect intensity to lull you to drowsiness. The weightlessness was freeing, but the dread which usually accompanied latitude was nowhere to be found as you had one last restraint. One last tether which held you grounded to the present moment.
Caleb’s hands continued their practised motion on your abdomen. Truthfully, you could not find the candor in your heart to tell him that the pain had passed, his light touch bringing a different sort of lightheadedness to your psyche.

And be as it may, you were not so sure he would stop even if you told him.

You brought your hands in front of you, gathering a billow of foamy clouds into your palms. The rippling sound accompanied the feeling of dozens of tiny bubbles tickling your skin.

“Do you remember the first time I had my period?” You asked, blowing some of the foam away.

Caleb leaned back, easing his grip on you. Your body followed his movement, stretching out once more.

“Of course. As if it was yesterday.” Caleb tapped his fingers against your skin in one fluid motion. He continued pensively, “you looked so distressed after seeing the blood on the sheets…”

“Can you blame me? It was your bed. I didn’t mean to put that responsibility on you...”

“No, no, I’m glad that you did,” Caleb squeezed his arms around you. “I mean, of course I was surprised too. You hadn’t asked to sleep together in weeks at this point, and suddenly you were reaching back. I was delighted, yeah, but I also knew a storm was brewing,” he laughed when you pinched his arm lightly. “But I’m glad you were not alone- that you didn’t force yourself to live through that alone.”

You felt him nuzzle against the crown of your head. The delicate pressure of his lips on your scalp made your body melt against his.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you for it.”

Caleb shook his head tenderly.

“Because there’s nothing to be thankful for. I’m more than happy to take care of you. You deserve to be comfortable during your period, especially considering how painful yours are.”

As if to prove his point, Caleb brushed the pad of his thumb against your stomach.

“Still,” you turned your head a little towards him,” thank you.”

You pressed a kiss against his chest, lips lingering on the contact as it sparked a ripple of tingles. It felt pleasantly warm, just like he always did.

You let out a content sigh, letting your hands dive back underwater and land smoothly on his, prompting him to stop moving. Your delicate touch explored the veins on the back of his palms, trying to trace them blindly.
After a few seconds of quiet caresses, you thought Caleb might have gone to sleep. His heartbeat was slow and steady, not unlike his breaths. The heat of the water was pleasant, and so was the feeling of your bodies against each other. You could almost imagine the droop of his eyelids, the infatuated tug of a smile on his lips, and the relaxed arc of his eyebrows which you adored so deeply.

Lost in your own thoughts, the sudden movement of his hands on your stomach again startled you.

“You tell me when you start getting prune-y,” he said, clearly nowhere near as asleep as you had thought.

The unexpected question made you snort. Your fingernails assumed the role of artists, drawing out mindless maps across the skin of his arms.

“Fruit discrimination,” you mumbled, one of your hands surfacing to graze his shoulder.

Caleb chuckled, his voice joining in with the echo of ripples perturbing the still mirror of water. His breath dispersed across the top of your head, another lingering kiss landing atop your scalp.

“I love you.”

There was a certain giddiness flowing through your veins when you heard those three versatile words loaded with meaning. Your hand found its way up to his shoulder -uncharacteristically easily- and curved at the back of his head. Nails faintly scratching the nape of his neck, you felt him sigh blissfully.

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

“Is this enough?”

You were not certain the words had actually left your mouth.

One of your hands was still lovingly tucked behind Caleb’s head, your fingers intermittently curling to apply caresses to his skin, while the other lied comfortably on his much bigger palms near your stomach.

The position was not uncomfortable, per se, your muscles relishing in the small stretches they could get in your cramped -definitely not made for two- bathtub; but the thoughts butting heads at the forefront of your mind were.

“What do you mean?” Caleb’s voice was instantly laced with concern.

Maybe he had been able to sense it through your interaction, or maybe you had just been bad at hiding it. Maybe he felt it too…

The lack.

The inherent anticipation of something that was bound to sprout from the situation.

Maybe he felt the desire you were so afraid of. Maybe he was holding back this need that you had teased out of him.

Maybe he was waiting- had been waiting, for a very long time.

“Me…” you started, choking on your own self-doubt, “...and you, like this.”

A second passed, long enough to feel like you should retreat your hand from him, as if you had forwent the right to touch him.

His skin burned against yours, no longer feeling warm, safe and comforting, but hot, repugnant and begrudging. Your nails felt like claws dripping with venom that you latched onto him, sinking deep beneath his skin to reach his core, poisoning him, polluting him.

You hated how twisted your world view became in a single passing heartbeat, as if nothing else mattered… as if nothing else had ever mattered.

Your name fell from his lips, hurt, broken, and that was the final straw.

You curled just a little bit tighter on yourself, your hand swiftly retreating back from his neck to your face to cover the strangled sob threatening to spill out of your mouth.
Caleb immediately tightened his grip on you. His biceps pressed against your skin, the familiar touch bitterly reassuring.

You did not deserve this care. You did not deserve the sweet words coming out of his mouth, or the consolation any of it brought you.

You did not deserve him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Caleb’s voice pushed through the cacophony of your thoughts, fighting against the current trying to wash it away.

But you had been the one to get shipwrecked; by your own mind, moreover.

You let your tears fall freely from your eyes; each drop stinging like a needle piercing the flesh of your eyelids.
The breath in your throat was restrained by the walls of your trachea, squeezing -hard- as to not let a single atom escape its snare. It felt like a collar had been wrapped around your neck, each breath -each pull- trying to make the diameter of your throat smaller, and smaller…

An arm coiled around the top of your chest, pulling you backwards, while another pushed your thighs back down to the floor of the bathtub, effectively giving your lungs more space to expand.
A hand skimmed against your chin, tilting it up to clear the obstruction.

You felt yourself cough a few times, the tightness in your throat disappearing, but leaving a strange burning sensation in its wake. The arm against your chest relaxed despite not fully allowing its weight to burden your struggling form.

A shaky breath escaped your mouth, the sound creeping up your eardrums and resonating through your skull.
Your consciousness felt fuzzy, as if you had just been plunged head first into the water without warning; and the overwhelming taste of bath bombs in your mouth, after inhaling once more, did not disprove it.

Opening your eyes after a few more seconds of dissipating distress, you were met with the warm caramel hue of your bathroom’s lights’ settings. Dazed, you blinked a couple of times, chasing the residue of tears away from the corners of your eyes. Tilting your head forwards, you noticed how a few bubbles had climbed the side of the bathtub and rested there like a vine of colourful clouds.

You swallowed, your spit achingly traveling down your oesophagus, then opened your mouth, two corruptive words grating painfully against your tongue:

“I’m sorry.”

Caleb inhaled through his nose, his chest pushing against the back of your head.
You do not know if it was conscious or not, but his arm curled around your chest a bit more firmly.

“I don’t know what you’re apologising for.”

You felt yourself frown.

Was he trying to shrug it off? Was he trying to act as if you had not just hinted- no, told him, that you were self-conscious? Was he… protecting your ego?

In this instant, you realised that you had two choices: you could follow his lead, shake your head and mutter a ‘nevermind’, as well as whatever quick remark you could make up on the spot to divert the conversation to something else. Or…

Reveal the depths of your thoughts.

And Caleb was leaving the decision to you; because he would never push you to share more than you were willing to, and he no longer felt the need to curb your feelings either… or his own.

Because he had not said that there was nothing to apologise for – only that he did not know the reason for your apology.

And there was a vast difference between the two.

While the former would mean that he acknowledged your feelings and felt as if they were completely understandable though misguided, the latter opened up the possibility that something had stirred in him, too, but he just could not put his finger on it yet.

You bit your lip, frustrated with yourself.

Not only had you made him uncomfortable while raising a sensitive topic, you had also failed to notice how he must have felt when you asked him to ‘join’ you for a bath.

Suddenly, a sense of weightlessness hugged your body. You knew the water messed with your perception, but not to the extent of lifting-you-up.
Instinctively, your arms reached for the closest and sturdiest platform.

Caleb lowered you on his lap.
Though you were a bit taller now than in your previous position, the surface of the water still easily covered you up to your armpits. Your legs had just enough space to trail behind you like a fishtail, while your upper body needed the support of both Caleb’s chest and his arms to stay upright. It was no work on your tired muscles, though, as his firm embrace held you securely in place. The new position allowed you to face each other without any strained contortions.

As soon as your eyes met his, you lifted your arms off of the perch they had made of his neck.

“Sorry,” the word left your mouth in a whisper, your hands retreating to your own chest.

“You don’t need to apologise for touching me.”

You froze.

Obviously, Caleb knew what you had been thinking about; and maybe -that- was his way of spurring the locked feelings out of your chest, finally.
Through echoing your own enticing wording from earlier -no matter how accidental- Caleb was letting you know he had picked up on the cause of your distress.

Or maybe, this was his invitation for you to…do more?

What had you been doing today if not tempt him?

You usually prided yourself in your clear communication, sentences rid of sous-entendre, and a perpetual checking of boundaries.

But had you really upheld your values today?

With your constant touching, and hugging, and kissing, and inviting him in -your- bath… Had you just been leading him on?

So plainly laid out, your track record was not so clean after all.

It felt like an alert was going off in your brain, telling you that you were not on the right path; but you could barely hear it through the dissonance of your mental state.

You were in the wrong.

Your entire face tensed, brows lowering and jaw locking.

Caleb lifted his hands out of the water to curl them softly around your wrists.
He seemed hesitant for a second as your eyes glanced at him, before you broke eye contact to continue watching what he was doing.
With the lack of support from his arms around you and your upper body now being pulled towards his, you had no choice but to lean into him.

Your hands ultimately found themselves back against his pectorals. His skin was still sizzling hot, and the touch made your hands curl into fists, nails digging into your palms.

Why did he want you to touch him? Did he feel pity for you? Was he sacrificing himself to you? Just because you had wondered if you could ever want more and acted as if you did? Just because you could not shove into that thick skull of yours that you could ever be enough?

You really did hurt everything you touched…

“Hit me.”

You started, looking up at Caleb; his voice had sounded resolved and stern.

“No- what?”

“I would rather you hurt me than you hurt yourself.” His gaze was unwavering as he spoke. ”Hit me.”

“No-” you shook your head as he started pressing your fists harder into his chest, his strength unmatched by yours, “Caleb, stop-”

“Then bite or scratch,” his hands stopped pushing yours as he locked them in place, “but don’t let that pain fester inside.”

Frowning, you held back, still. Your single attempt to pull your hands away being utterly fruitless. When you did not comply with either demand, never in a million years fathoming the idea of hurting him, but not doing anything about the cyclone of self-loathing wrecking your mind, Caleb’s fingers arched around yours.
He forced your fists to open, and your fingers clenched on his skin.
As soon as you noticed the marks your fingernails were leaving across his chest, you willed your hands to relax, pressing the pad of your fingertips against him instead.

The exertion from having to chase away the tension from your body to your mind left you completely drained. Your torso slackened, your head landing in the crook of Caleb’s neck.
His hands slipped away from yours, instead wrapping around your body and gently caressing your back.

The switch in mood soothed your thoughts. A sense of fatigued calm washed over you, calling your mind and body to rest.

You felt a dry sob escape your throat but not reach your lips.

“I keep… You’ve never even tried but… I can’t…”

The mumbled words leaving your mouth weaved an incoherent pattern, each piece of a sentence leading with a mind of its own.

“Deep breaths,” Caleb coaxed, his head nuzzling against yours, “breathe in, slowly…”

You followed the rhythm of his own breaths. Your hands against his chest transferred the regular beat of his heart right through to yours.

Your thoughts began to untangle as you let yourself take longer inhales.

The scent of the bath bombs was easier on your nose now more than ever. Their already diluted chemical smell barely grazed the edge of your nostrils before disappearing; another smell, stronger as your nose was pressed right against its source, replacing it.

It was familiar and nostalgic, comforting and exhilarating, safe and enticing… It was home.

A home that looked strong, never cowering under the weather, be it crashing thunder, boiling heat, or plummeting hail, but hid vulnerable foundations.

A home which always kept its doors open for those seeking refuge, a helping hand or counsel; but hardly ever accepted others’.

A home, lived in, and so deeply cherished…

Except by its owner.

You pulled away from Caleb slowly, giving him enough time to retreat his head from yours. His arms reflexively tightened around your body to hold you up, taking on the strain for your sore muscles.

When your eyes met, you felt your hands naturally shift from his chest, up his neck, and settle on his cheeks.

“I never want to hurt you,” your words slalomed around the ripples of water droplets hitting smooth foamy bubbles, “I…”

Your voice lost momentum, cracking as you breathed in.

Caleb’s patient gaze made the knot in your chest tighten ever-so-slightly, and you had to look away, your hands falling to the nook in-between his shoulders and neck.

It was not like Caleb did not know.

You had told him before, about your peculiarities when it came to intimacy.

What most of the world considered a given for any couple became a distinct omission in your requirements.

You wanted him oh-so-badly; in the form of a companion to journey with, a reliable shoulder to lean on when life beat you down, a friend who empowered your goofiness and fostered your self-indulgence, a lover to hug, and kiss and share parts of yourself you never would with anyone else…

Just not -that- part.

And Caleb had been understanding; of course he had, he always was.

He had asked questions, and you had answered -to the best of your ability- while he seemed to make mental notes of every single detail you mentioned. He had held your hand when you reminisced about certain interactions that had made you uncomfortable; not with him, but with other people coming into your life, especially after he had gone to the Aerospace Academy and you had been left to fend off for yourself.
His hands had trembled slightly and his frown had been deep with concentration, as well as… something else. Something ominous; a shadow that he had quickly wiped off of his face when your speech had started to slow, in fear that you had hurt him.
When you had tried to branch the subject over to him -his feelings, his thoughts, his boundaries- he had just shrugged, telling you that anything you did or did not want was a-ok with him.

Because that’s what Caleb always did; putting your comfort before his own.

But there had been times when you had glimpsed at something he had taken an extra second to do away with. Times when you had gone out, all dressed-up and looking like a doll, and for half a second his mind had seemed to wander along with his gaze. Other times, when he had sneaked a hug from behind and started kissing your neck… before freezing and spinning you around in his arms, a playful jab crossing his lips.

And maybe you had just been thinking about this for too long.

Sex was everywhere, after all; anything from advertisements to innuendos slinked in kids’ cartoons…
You did not have to look hard to find it; the conflict it had created in your mind was fueled by the contrast between what you saw, and heard, and smelled, and tasted… and how you felt.

Was the opposite as intense for Caleb?

It was daunting; being presented this end-all-be-all to happiness when your own solution relied on its exclusion.

Shaking your head to gather your resolve, you closed your eyes, breathing in deeply before bringing your eyes back to Caleb’s.

“I want…” his eyes widened just a little bit, and your hands tensed on his shoulders, “...to please you-” your ears rang at the word and you pushed the rest of your sentence out in one breath, “-but it feels like the only way I’ve been taught how is through…” You felt yourself frown, closing your eyes as you shook your head. “And I don’t want that. I know I don’t. I keep- I keep forcing myself to try and think about it as if it would be enjoyable for me but- I know it won’t.” You breathed out, meeting his gaze, and you spoke again before he could. “And I know you said you’re fine without it, and I trust you. I trust you wouldn’t lie about something like this but I just keep beating myself up because it feels like something I should be able to give you; like I -need- to give it to you – because you deserve to be happy, and I want to give you the world – I want to give you the best of everything, I just…” Caleb’s arms tightened around you and you let out a sigh. “You make everything feel so effortless for me,” your hands found their way back to his face, gently stroking his cheeks, “I want showing my love to feel effortless too.”

It felt selfish. You, were selfish.

Your relationship was built on the privilege of decades of friendship, -that’s- why it was so effortless…

And now you wanted more?

Before you could start spiraling, Caleb swiftly pulled you into his embrace. The abrupt movement made the water around you slosh wildly. Colourful bubbles swam in and out of your peripheral vision until your head landed next to his.

Your arms wrapped around his neck from the momentum and your chests ended up pressed against each other.

“You have no idea how happy you make me…” Caleb’s whispered confession brushed the nape of your neck warmly. “When I wake up in the morning and I think about seeing you, I could honestly keel over – hell, I still get butterflies -good butterflies- from your good morning texts.” The sound of his voice rumbling through his chest and into your own made his feelings more palpable, somehow. “Having you in my life makes me the happiest person alive. And I know-” he added quickly, most likely imagining the smile on your face, “-I know how cliché it sounds,” his arms coiled a bit tighter around you and his cheek pressed into the crown of your head, “but it’s true. No one in this world can be as happy as I am knowing you are in my life… That’s what I thought when we were kids, and I still do now.” Your own hold on him fastened, your hands firmly grasping his back as emotions welled up in your eyes. “You are so important to me, Pips. I- god,” his arms gave you a tight squeeze before pulling you back so he could meet your gaze. “I adore you,” violet and amber hues danced in his irises like tiny fireflies lighting up a sunset sky, “you’re more precious to me than anything in this world and-” his expression shifted, his eyes thinning from the pressure of his lowered brows, “-I know I haven’t been good at treating you like the diamond that you are-” Caleb did not leave you space to interject, “-I’ve doted on you too much, and I’ve been overbearing, and overprotective, and jealous, and possessive but,” he took a breath, his chest pushing you up slightly, and one of his hands lifted up to cup your face, “I would give up all of this pretense in a heartbeat if it meant I could erase any doubt in your mind that you are unconditionally deserving of my love.”

You were speechless.

There were expressions of love you were used to with Caleb.

His silent attentions whenever you came home, tired after a long mission, and you suddenly found your favourite snacks filling up your pantry. Extensive texts in the morning of stressful days -whenever you had to give a speech or make an apparition on TV-, complete with a to-do list so you would not forget to take care of yourself, and a comforting paragraph praising your hard work. Promises of weekend getaways to celebrate, fully arranged by him, that he had never once broken. Spontaneous board game nights whenever you had trouble falling asleep; forever nominating you the victor when you woke up dazed in the morning, having dozed off mid-game, and asked him about your scores. And comforting cuddles as you lied in each other’s arms; the tips of his fingers grazing whatever bare skin you allowed him to touch, and your fingernails tracing deliberate patterns across his scalp.

What you were not as accustomed to, however, were declarations such as this one; vivid and passionate.

You blinked when you felt Caleb’s lips on your forehead, realising you had just been blankly and silently staring at him for a few long seconds as you gathered your thoughts.

The first one to clearly surface from your busy mind almost made you wince when he pulled back to look into your eyes.

Doubt.

You did not doubt that he loved you, that was evident, but you wondered, still, if your own way of showing your love was enough for him.

A lightbulb went off in your brain and you became aware of Caleb’s word choice.
He had said he loved how you treated him; the care you showed in your messages and the excitement he felt at waking up to the idea of seeing you… but was it -enough-?

Ultimately, he had decided to focus on the love he held for you, not vice-versa. Was that your hint to take?

Your hands retreated back to the crook of his neck, lightening your pressure on him.

“Is mine enough?”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you thought he might roll his eyes and laugh about you playing like a broken record, or he would take your question and gently ‘return it to sender’.
Instead, his face took on a pensive expression as his brows furrowed slightly, his eyes dropping to your shoulder in thought. You bit your lip anxiously as you waited for his verdict.

“Yes,” the seriousness in his tone matched his features. “I don’t want you to sexualise yourself to appease me,” you felt your mouth open in shock as he struck the very chord you had been dancing around for so long, “and you don’t have to sexualise me in the process.”

And suddenly, the gear that had been missing in your rhetoric had found its way into the complex machinery of your overthinking.

By forcing yourself to notice the rare instances when Caleb had shown signs of restraint, you had ergo been shoving an entire basket of preconceived notions and labels onto him as well.
This had not been just about you being uncomfortable, but about making him someone he had never revealed himself to be.

A breath hitched in your throat, and Caleb’s features softened at the sound before he spoke:

“If that’s the kind of partner you want me to be-” his eyes searched yours for a second, “-as well as doubling as your personal chef slash weighted blanket slash confident slash masseur-” you could not help the giggle that escaped your throat at the list, your smile being mirrored on his face, “-then I’m more than okay with that.”

You nuzzled his palm, taking a few seconds to absorb his words.

“You’re a lot more than that…” you said, keeping your voice as stable as possible, “you forgot shop assistant.” Caleb rolled his eyes, a small grin tugging at his lips. You savoured the sight before taking one of his hands into your own. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that-” you stopped yourself and shook your head, “-I’m sorry that I made you feel like I could not see you past those labels…” You felt yourself frown, your gaze falling a little, “I feel like such a hypocrite… Asking you to not assign me expectations by which I was analysing your every action…”

Caleb sighed pensively, shaking his head to veer off your guilt.

“It’s alright,” he said solemnly, his thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly, “it’s not like the world made it easy for you.”

You scrunched up your nose, not disagreeing with him, but feeling like you were getting out of the situation with more ease than you should.

“Still, I should have known better. I’m sorr-”

Caleb swiftly moved his index finger to your lips, effectively shushing you.

“Don’t.” His eyes thinned a little, scanning both of yours. “You’ve reached your daily limit of ‘sorry’s for today.” His hand went back to cupping your cheek. You were silent for a second before your mouth opened again, only to be cut off by Caleb: “if you say it one more time, I -will- get out of the tub.”

The tense knot in your chest relaxed when hearing his playful tone. You felt your lips purse into a pout.

“But-”

Abruptly, you felt yourself fall backwards as Caleb’s hold on you disappeared and his legs moved under you. Startled, you wrapped your arms around the closest anchor you could find. Your hands easily found their previous spot across his back while your torso wound up pressed against his once more.

Though Caleb could have easily lifted you up with him if he wanted to, your gesture caused him to stop.

…Or maybe it was the single word that left your lips pleadingly:

“Stay.”

You heard his breath hitch. His arms rapidly found their way around your waist again; a tight pincer attack you willingly surrendered to.

Caleb nuzzled his face into your hair, sounding slightly breathless.

“I love you,” he gasped out, his head diving right in the crook of your neck. “I love you so much.”

His words spread across your skin in a warm fog.

Gently swaying -as much as you could in the cramped space- you felt yourself relax.
You let Caleb take the lead, rocking you slowly from side to side rhythmically as if following a silent melody. Your eyes closed as you rested your head comfortably in the crook of his neck, lulled by the now tepid-feeling lapping of waves up and down your upper body.
Drops of water had ended up hoisting themselves up Caleb’s nape, and sporadically glided down to the apple of your cheek.
The regular breaths hitting your neck soon turned into a lullaby for your skin. Your entire body relaxed against him, leaving the responsibility of holding you up and out of the water to the two arms snaked around you.

You felt Caleb’s head lift back up to the side of your face before his voice reached your ears.

“I’m sorry I did not see how much this was affecting you…”

You tried to push yourself off of him, but his hold was too strong and your body too tired. Shaking your head instead, you nuzzled him some more.

“You couldn’t have known, Caleb.” His response came in the form of a low hum. “And who said ‘no more sorry’s’?” You slurred your words a bit, sleepiness washing over you like a peaceful blanket.

Caleb huffed, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

“If you can apologise about stuff there’s nothing to apologise for- then so can I.” His teasing earned him a gargled sigh from you, both of your arms tightening their grip on him. After a short pause, Caleb spoke again, quietly, tenderly, “how long do you want me to stay?”

The answer came to you easily, slipping off of your tongue in a heartbeat:

“Forever.”

There was a pause, and then Caleb tittered, shaking his head.

“Forever might be a lot, though. Are you sure you’ll want me around that long?”

This time, his grip slackened when he felt you move.
His hands slid to your waist, hugging the curves like the dip on each side had been carved just for them.

You cupped his face, looking at each of his features with unwavering attention.

The way his hair had gathered in front of his eyes, obscuring his eyebrows but still letting glimpses of hairs peek through. The smooth line of his nose, a dorsal hump barely visible, ending in a point, your gaze acting as if it was gliding down a diving board. You took the plunge and watched as his moisturised -thanks to your care- lips glimmered slightly under the low light. His tongue slipped onto them in response to the intensity of your glare and you looked back into his eyes.

You leaned your face forwards, noticing the way his eyes widened before blinking shut. The grip on your waist definitely became more firm as your lips touched the tip of his nose.

“Time,” you moved your lips to his forehead and softly pressed them there, “spent,” you kissed one of his closed eyelids, “with you,” then the other “is,” you lowered your lips to his cheek, “never,” then the other, “long enough.”

When your lips finally landed on the corner of his mouth, Caleb breathed out a sigh.

His eyes opened when you pulled back, not far, just enough to give him some breathing room -and maybe to witness the entirety of his face lighting up in a soft scarlet hue under your touch, up to the point of his ears.
You saw him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing in a less-than-measured motion.

Allowing him some respite, you focused your gaze on his fringe, grazing your fingers through it to push it out of his eyes.

His voice reached your ears in a whisper. A single syllable that had your eyes moving to his instantly.

“Yeah?”

Your hand went back to cupping his face and you approached a bit slower this time. When your nose brushed against his, you felt heat rise to your face. You closed your eyes, trustful, as you answered:

“Yeah.”