They say childhood friends either drift apart or become something more. Caleb and I? Well, we’ve been stuck with each other for as long as I can remember—through chaos, loss, and even the eerie silence of space.
I still remember the first time he held my hand. It wasn’t in some grand romantic moment. No, it was after the Chronorift Catastrophe, when everything we knew was gone. He wasn’t just holding my hand—he was holding me together. That’s Caleb. Protective, intense, and sometimes frustratingly overbearing. But also warm, familiar, and mine.
Growing up, he was my best friend, my rival in every silly competition, and the one person who never let go, no matter how much I pushed. Then, of course, he had to go and become a fighter pilot, dashing off into the stars like some hero from an old sci-fi movie. And when I thought I’d lost him forever… he came back. Different. Colder. Wearing the weight of a war I didn’t even fully understand.
His new title—Colonel Caleb of the Farspace Fleet—sounds impressive, right? But to me, he’s still just the same guy who used to tease me about my height and steal bites of my food when he thought I wasn’t looking. The same guy who calls me “pipsqueak” like it’s a love language.
He still tries to protect me, even from myself. But here’s the thing—he doesn’t get to decide what I can handle. I’m not the same scared little girl clinging to his hand anymore. I’ve fought my own battles, faced my own fears. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time he let me protect him, too.
So, welcome to my blog—where I talk about life, love, and what it’s like to share the universe with a man who thinks he has to carry it all on his own. Spoiler alert: he doesn’t.
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