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It’s not the first time Caleb’s been to your apartment since your reunion, but he stands awkwardly at the front entrance, unsure of what to do with himself. Caleb, who is usually so self-assured and comfortable anywhere, stood like a wilting wallflower at a school dance.
His gaze sweeps across the living room. It must seem both familiar and unfamiliar just as he does now to you. You made sure the entire house was spotless before he came, but even now a nervous energy gnaws at you to notice how frayed the rug is or that there are slight yellow stains on the couch, probably from wiping your hands on the back of your pants and then sitting down. When was the last time you had cleaned the windows? You notice a thin layer of grime.
“Spotless once again,” Caleb says. “I’m impressed.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. “Sit down. I have more apple syrup. Let me make you another soda.”
A smile curls his lip and he begins to look more like his former self. “Is it the same one you made last time?” When he teases you the edge of his eyes crinkle boyishly.
“No! It’s fresh! I just made it this morning!” You complain. “Gosh Caleb, I’m not trying to give you food poisoning. You also don’t need to follow me around in the kitchen. I know what I’m doing. Just relax!” You plant him onto the couch. “If you don’t know what to do with your hands, hug this,” you say and push a giant apple plushie into his arms before heading back into the kitchen.
You hum a lively tune, happy that he’s spending his time off in Linkon with you. It also just so happens the day you are both free is also Azure’s Echo Day, a day that previously had been solely about celebrating the brave scientists who lost their lives in the Deepspace Tunnel, but one very popular TV show later, and the concept of everlasting love through countless lifetimes had turned it into a romantic holiday.
You take out a glass, inspect it for water marks and set it on the counter. Then you crack open the fridge to get the syrup. Inside, front and center, are a plate of chocolate covered strawberries you made last night. You feel a little irked that some of the green has already started yellowing. They were perfectly fresh yesterday. You take a minute to pluck the dried leaves off before returning to the drink.
You’ve always loved Caleb—and have only recently admitted to yourself that you’ve also always been in love with Caleb—and you hope after this holiday you two can finally move past this awkward phase in your relationship.
If being childhood friends and family isn’t enough to keep him anchored in your life, you’d be willing to go further—attach more and more strings to him until there comes a day he can’t ever leave you behind.
When you return with the soda you see Caleb flipping through a photo album on his lap. He murmurs his thanks when you set his glass down on the coffee table.
“Oh, that’s the album for all the pictures I’ve taken since working as a Hunter. It’s mostly UNICORNS group photos.”
“There’s a lot,” Caleb says with a rueful smile. “I guess in this line of work it’s important to commemorate every moment.”
“Oh don’t be so bleak, Caleb.” You lean against his arm to get a better look at the photos. “The team is just really sociable and Tara especially loves taking pictures.” You look up at him. “Where are your pictures? You must have some I haven’t seen before.”
Somewhere in the boxes under your bed are all the mementos of your past together, including a thick album of photos you both took together. The rest were lost in the explosion. Back when you thought he had died, your grief had been so immense you hid everything that reminded you of him from sight, but for some reason, even after your reunion, the memories have not been returned to their rightful place.
He shakes his head. “There are none. Who would want to take my picture?”
“I remember in high school girls were always sneaking photos of you.” You recall how in high school you had a side hustle where you’d sell candid photos of him to earn a little pocket money—of course you kept the best pictures for yourself (those are also tucked away somewhere in the box under the bed).
“Sorry to say but the Farspace Fleet is a sausage fest.”
You laugh. “There were plenty of guys who were into you too!”
“Oh there are definitely eyes on me, but maybe not in the way you’re thinking,” he says dryly. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“No one at the Hunter’s Association has ever asked you out?” he asks. His tone is casual but his eyes are probing. Your hesitation is answer enough. “See? You’re popular.”
“Not as much as you.”
“And these guys who asked you out, did you ever give them a chance?” He’s smiling as if it doesn’t mean anything to him. It annoys you a little.
“Of course not! Workplace romances are never a good idea and as soon as you accept one date, others will start lining up.”
“You say you aren’t popular but you’re already expecting guys to line up for you?” Caleb says with snort. “My little pipsqueak sure has grown up. You became a player while I was gone.”
He tousles your hair but when he stops he doesn’t remove his hand. He fixes the loose strands and pushes them from your face and pins it back with the lightest of touch. It reminds you of that warm sunny day when you found him napping under the crabapple blossoms and he blew the dust out of your eyes.
He leans in, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin. He’s watching you carefully, enticing you, pulling you into the purple cosmos of his eyes. Your heart races in your chest. You want him to kiss you, but you don’t know how to go about doing it.
It’s embarrassing how inexperienced you are.
His thumb brushes against your bottom lip. “Are you nervous? You always bite your lips when you’re nervous.”
His seductive and teasing tone makes you weak in the knees. It takes all your self-control not to tremble from just the lightest touch. The feelings inside of you are so overwhelming you can’t help but break eye contact and look away.
“I—“
He stands up and rubs his face with a sigh. “Let me make you something to eat. I can’t get used to just sitting around doing nothing. If you’re not hungry right now, eat it later.” He walks into the kitchen before you can protest.
“Wait, Caleb!” You grab his forearm in a hurry, scared and a little confused. He stops and turns. “I… I’m not against it.”
“What aren’t you against, pipsqueak?” He asks in a low voice.
You feel a lump in your throat. You stare at him expectantly, hoping he would telepathically understand you through expression alone. Caleb sighs again. He gently extracts his arm out of your grip.
“I’ll whip up some egg salad. You can use it to make sandwiches for your work lunches,” he says and heads to the kitchen, leaving you standing there like an idiot.
Anger wells up in your chest. Why is it so hard for you to just say it ? Why doesn’t he get it? Caleb is so good at anticipating all your other needs, why not this one?
Caleb opens the fridge. Your heart stops for a moment. He clearly sees the chocolate covered strawberries on the dish, but he reaches around it to take out a carton of eggs.
You’re not sure if the flutter in your chest is relief or heartbreak.
“I’ll keep it light on the mayonnaise and add extra green onion. The way you like it,” he says cheerfully and gets started boiling a pot of water.
You chew on your bottom lip.
Is he not going to ask? Why?
The questions swirl in your mind but you don’t have the heart to say them out loud. You just stand there and watch him work.
It feels like Caleb spends the rest of the day avoiding you. When he’s not cooking, he’s cleaning and tidying up, and when he’s done with that, he’s fixing an uneven table or the strange clicking sound in your laundry machine, while all you can do is hover and bite your lower lip, unsure of what to say but growing more anxious by the minute. Even though you’re never more than a few feet apart, he may as well be back in Skyhaven with the distance he’s put between you two.
The day is going to be over soon and he’s going to leave and nothing will be different and I won’t be able to say a single word. He’s going to leave and he won’t tell me when he’s coming back. He’s going to leave and—
“Should I cook dinner?” Caleb asks, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. You barely notice how dark it’s gotten until he turns on the light. “Looks like you have all the ingredients I need to make dumplings. Are you interested?”
You shake your head. You won’t allow him to avoid you any longer by wasting his time cooking. “I was thinking we could go out to eat. Let’s go somewhere nice and quiet.”
“Okay, but it might be hard to get a table.”
“What do you mean?” You only realize what he means after you ask the question. Duh. Azure’s Echo Day. All the nice restaurants must be fully booked. Your face flushes. “We can still try! Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Sure. If that’s what you want.”
The two of you throw on your coats and head outside. It’s a chilly mid-February evening. The days are not as short as they used to be but the winter chill has yet to dissipate. You both walk side by side, hands stuffed in your pockets, arms sometimes bumping into each other. Caleb occasionally glances at you from the corner of his eye.
“Why do you keep looking at me?” you ask, keeping the atmosphere light.
“Habit,” he says.
Memories of your childhood come back. There has never been a time when Caleb wasn’t taller than you. When you were both kids, you often found yourself running to keep up with his stride. “Making sure I don’t wander off and get lost?” you ask.
“Bringing up old traumas, pipsqueak?”
Once during a street festival you couldn’t keep up with Caleb and got separated in the jostling crowd. A large group of rowdy boys had pushed through the crowds in front of you and you were shoved to the side. By the time you got your bearing, Caleb was already too far ahead.
He had been so looking forward to seeing the mech suits featured in his favorite Saturday morning cartoon he didn’t even look back no matter how loud you shouted his name. You were so upset you purposely hid from him and for over an hour you had watched him run around in circles in a panic. It wasn’t until you saw the tears in his eyes that you finally stepped out of your hiding place.
You never saw Caleb watch that cartoon again. Your heart is heavy at the recollection.
“What are you thinking about with that troubled expression?” Caleb asks.
“Since you were always so tall, you must’ve never gotten bullied before. With such long legs, no one could catch you as long as you ran away,” you say.
“What are you talking about, pipsqueak? I don’t run away from bullies. Anyone who tried to bully me regretted it soon after,” he says with a laugh.
“And was it worth all those scrapes and bruises that scared me and Grandma half to death?”
“I don’t regret them. I do regret not hiding it a little better,” he says sheepishly. “I always came back in one piece, didn’t I?”
You say nothing. The words are like a fast acting poison. Before your mind even understands what’s happening your body is already tense and cold. He senses your mood shift and places his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close.
“Even if I’m not in one piece, I’ll always come back. That much I promise.” He can sense you’re upset, thus the empty reassurances.
You nod sullenly and keep your gaze to the ground.
The two of you reach the first restaurant of choice. There’s a line of couples waiting outside and a worker outside taking down names. Caleb leaves you by a bench to talk to him. The atmosphere is lively with happy couples chatting under a deepening sky.
There’s a small gasp when one of the girls loses the heart balloon her boyfriend must’ve bought her. It gets stuck in the tree at first and the boyfriend jumps to catch the string but an ill timed gust of wind dislodges the balloon and sends it up to the clouds. The couple watches it flying away dejectedly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you another one,” the boyfriend reassures her. She nods and leans against his shoulder.
“I’m a little disappointed, but it’s not a big deal,” she tells him.
You feel weird. A little sick even. Was it something you ate? Your stomach is turning and your hands are cold even when shoved in the warmth of your pockets.
Caleb stands taller than everyone else. His back is wide and dependable. Even in a large crowd there’s no way of missing him. He’s always stood out.
He’s speaking to a waitress now.
Caleb.
In your heart you call out to him. Your head is starting to hurt.
Caleb!
He’s still talking and not turning around. He’s smiling and cracking jokes. The waitress plays with a strand of hair while she smiles up at him.
You feel like if you watch for one more second you’ll throw up. Unable to deal with it any longer, you quickly stand up and break into a run down the street.
You don’t know how long it took for Caleb to realize you’ve left, but a few blocks down he’s already caught up to you.
“Pipsqueak! Why are you running?”
You sprint as hard as you can but it’s no use. He’s too fast. His legs are too long. You’ve never once been able to outrun him, no matter how far of a head start he gives you. Not so the other way around. He only needs to determinedly walk away and you’ll have to spend your entire life chasing after him. It’s not fair. Nothing about Caleb has ever been fair.
Suddenly an arm hooks you across the waist. You scream and would’ve fallen to your knees if he wasn’t holding you tight.
“Let go! Let go!” You screech and try to pull his arm away. But it’s no use. He’s too strong.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Caleb asks, his voice full of worry and fear. You grab the hand, bring it up, and bite down. He lets go with a yelp and you collapse onto the streets sobbing.
He kneels down. He doesn’t even acknowledge the bite. He cups your face. “Please… tell me what happened.” His brows are knit in worry.
“Nothing’s changed. You never change!” You curse at him and slam your fists into his chest. He takes your beating without defending himself.
Your tantrum is drawing onlookers in the street. Some concerned folks are about to approach the two of you.
Caleb frowns. “C’mon, let’s get out of the middle of the street.”
You let him pull you to your feet and numbly you walk with him back to the house. Once inside you push him away again and walk into the kitchen. He follows you like a shadow, confused and hurt and scared.
You open the fridge, grab the plate of chocolate covered strawberries and fling it across the room. The plate shatters and the chocolate shells crack to pieces all over the floor. It disgusts you. All of it disgusts you.
The silence that follows is deafening.
“I’m sorry,” Caleb says in a quiet pitiful voice.
Something snaps. The laugh that comes out of you is so maniacal you sound possessed. It might’ve been funny if you aren’t as equally gripped in a despair so intense you feel as if your lungs wanted to turn inside out.
Your whole body is shaking. You try to suck in air but your diaphragm feels stuck. It’s as if a heavy gravity is pushing in at you on all sides. Everything was breaking. You’ve become like a star collapsing in on itself.
Caleb rushes over when you start dry heaving. The smell comes first. The smell of fire, burning wood and plastic and the hint of seared human flesh fills your nostrils. You gag, coughing, trying to throw up, but nothing comes up except more air.
Caleb! Caleb! You cry out to him in your mind but your voice fails you.
“Look at me! Snap out of it!” He grabs your shoulders and starts shaking you as if he’s trying to wake you from a nightmare. “Pipsqueak! Calm down! Breathe!”
Your out of focus vision suddenly catches onto a gleam of metal. The clinking brings you back. The necklace! You clutch it in your hand so hard it digs into your palms, and a sense of control returns to you. The pain stops your panic attack. Furious, you shove him away from you.
“You don’t even know what you’re sorry for!” you scream.
Caleb hesitates to touch you again. “I apologize for everything.”
You wipe your face with the back of your sleeve and glare at him with clenched fists. You attempt to hit his chest again but he grabs hold of both of your arms. You struggle but it’s useless. “Then you’re not sorry for anything ! Just go! Get out of here! Go back to Skyhaven and get yourself killed again! I don’t care! Next time I’m not going to your funeral! I’m not picking another coffin for you! I’m not getting your stupid headstone revised! I’m not! They can throw you in a dumpster for all I care!” You choke on a sob, frustrated you can’t free yourself from his iron grip. “I’m going to burn all your pictures! I’ll forget everything! I’ll delete everything! I’ll change my name, move somewhere far away. You’ll never find me again and I’ll stop thinking of you. Just go away…” You start bawling hard enough to hiccup.
There it is. Everything that has been lodged in your throat spilling out like toxic bile.
“Pipsqueak…”
“Shut up!” you cry. “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me…” you sob.
Caleb embraces you tightly to him. You thrash, twist, and pull, but it’s no use. He holds you tight in that self-sacrificial way military men in movies do when they throw themselves onto a bomb to protect their comrades. It’s as if he intends to consume all your rage and sadness into himself. You bite down hard on the meat of his shoulder. He winces but he still doesn’t let go.
You feel the rise and fall of his chest, his erratic heartbeat, the solidity of him when for so long he only appeared as a disintegrating phantasm in your nightmares.
“I understand your pain,” he says, his voice hoarse and as brittle as dried leaves crushed underfoot. “More than you know.”
You’re too exhausted and emotionally drained to call his bullshit. You go limp, utterly defused. Your seething and boiling emotions are no match for the familiar comfort of his arms. “I hate you Caleb. I really hate you right now,” you say but there’s no power in the words, only a whimpering resignation.
He whispers so softly and gently like a feather caressing your cheek. “That’s okay. I’ll love you no matter what.”
You cry again and he gently kisses the top of your head. His hands rub soothing circles on your back as if he’s consoling a bereft child. Your fingers dig into the heavy fabric of his coat. You hate even this much separation.
Caleb carries you to your room and sets you down on your bed. He sits on the edge, fixing the strands of damp hair clinging to your wet cheeks.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sorry,” he says again. You say nothing. You don’t even look at him. You keep your gaze fixed on a random spot on the wall. “I’m trying but no matter what I do I keep messing up. Hey… talk to me. What happened?” He places a hand on top of yours.
“You left me behind.”
Even you yourself are not sure which moment you are referring to. All of them maybe.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” He interlocks his fingers with yours and smiles reassuringly. Another promise he won’t keep, yet foolishly you can’t help but be swayed by it.
Today has reminded you of all the wrong choices you had made in the past. Even if you hold his hand tight like this, he can be taken away from you at any moment, but your greatest fear has and will always be Caleb letting go of you himself. He would willingly fall into the abyss alone so that you could be saved. What he fails to understand is that he’s condemning you to a life at the edge of a cliff peering endlessly into the void, all your senses consumed by the darkness in hopes that you might catch a glimpse of his return or an echo of his voice calling your name.
You squeeze his hand as hard as you can, but he doesn’t react. You look at his unresponsive fingers. That’s right. You’re holding a piece of machinery and you feel hopeless all over again.
“Caleb, don't let anyone bully you, not even me,” you tell him.
“No can do,” he replies, a smile in his voice. “If it’s from you, I can accept anything without question. If it brings you back to me, I’ll do whatever it takes and endure it all.”
“Even if it means we’ll be separated,” you say with hollow resignation.
“I’ll always return. In this life, there is nothing more important than you. You’re all I think about and all that matters.”
“Yet you didn’t acknowledge the strawberries…”
He pauses. “You didn’t either.”
“Who else would they be for if not you?”
“Then why didn’t you give them to me?” he asks, his tone still gentle. “Pipsqueak, there’s some lines I can’t cross, you do know that, don’t you? I can only stand on the other side and wait for you.”
You finally turn your gaze to him. His eyes are all sincerity and longing. He looks vaguely like an obedient puppy waiting to be pet. If only it were true. Then you’d put a leash on him and he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without your permission.
You let go of his hand to pull yourself upright to a seated position.
“Then before the day is over, kiss me.” Perhaps you two are destined to suffer and be separated in this lifetime, but maybe this kiss on this particular day could bring hope to all your other lifetimes.
He leans over and kisses you softly on the cheek.
“Not there you idiot! It’s Azure’s Echo Day! Use that big brain of yours and kiss me like you mean it! How can someone so smart be so dumb?” you cry, annoyed you even have to say it.
He chuckles but you can still hear the hesitation in his voice. “I’m holding back for your sake, you know.”
“Don’t pin the blame on me!”
He snorts. “My feelings for you… they might be too heavy, too much, too dark.” He lowers his gaze. “Also… my heart won’t be able to take it if you turn away at the last second.”
Your thoughts immediately return to that strange fever dream day at the amusement park. The memory is vague, but you still remember the warmth of his lips against your ear.
“I can also accept anything if it’s from you.” You take his hands and bring his palms to your face. They’re cold and a little clammy, revealing all the dread and anxiety he’s been feeling. “If you’re scared I’ll turn away, then hold me tight so I can’t.”
He looks down and takes a deep breath as if he’s mentally preparing himself. Finally his gaze moves to your lips before returning to your eyes. His warm breath lands on your skin.You close your eyes and just allow yourself to feel . No more thinking. No more excuses. When his lips finally touch yours the tight ball of anxiety inside of you loosens and then unravels.
Caleb is kissing you. He’s finally kissing you. A pitiful wounded sound rumbles from deep within your chest cavity. He sighs into your mouth with the relief of a weary traveler finally finding rest.
The kiss is soft and tentative at first, but it quickly deepens into a sweet tenderness that has you melting into him.
You’ve imagined your first kiss (your first real kiss, the chaste pecks from childhood didn’t count) hundreds of times and it’s even better than anything you can conjure up in your most fanciful daydreams. The kiss is a little frenzied and a bit awkward, but that only added to its specialness. Beyond the hunger is an outpouring of love. You love everything. The desperate gasps for air, the whines, his hands on you and your hands on him exploring, searching, clutching on for dear life. It is both thrilling and nostalgic at the same time. Magical—as serendipitous as holding out your hand and watching the most perfectly formed snowflake fall into the center of your palm.
He breaks the kiss and you gasp for air, feeling dizzy and faint.
“Pipsqueak,” he says with labored breaths. “You have to breathe through your nose or you’ll pass out.”
You realize he’s right. You suck in a few lungfuls of air through your nose and then the both of you burst out laughing like two giddy children returning to a secret hideout with armfuls of stolen treasure.
He holds the side of your face and kisses you again. You return it and you delight in the sound of those little smooches every time your lips touch. The frenzy winds down a little, leaving your heart warm and full.
“Caleb, I love you,” you blurt out.
He blinks a few times in shock. For a split second you wonder if you shouldn’t have said it, but then that first tear forms and falls down the curve of his cheek. The next one follows soon after and then the next and the next.
You’re the one holding his face now and wiping his tears with your thumbs. Caleb doesn’t look away. He doesn’t apologize or try to stop them either. Everything is laid bare and he is so beautiful you feel your tears falling to accompany his own.
“I love you, Caleb. I don’t want you to get hurt somewhere I can’t see or protect you. I want to be able to save you, and if you get hurt, I want to be able to nurse you back to health. I just want to help…”
“I know,” he says. “But I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you more than you know.”
You sniffle. “Then love me less.”
He smiles and places his hands over yours. “I can’t do that,” he says in the softest and lowest of whispers.
Your voice trembles. “So what you’re saying is there are some lines I can’t cross and I have no choice but to stand on the other side and wait for you?”
He doesn’t respond, but his eyes tell you everything. So much of your earliest memories are of Caleb wearing that exact expression as he looked out at the distant horizon. Somewhere far away across the sky, destiny was calling him and you could only cling to the back of his shirt hoping he wouldn't float away like an escaped balloon.
You throw your arms around him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. For now, you’ll accept him just as he is, your heroic and lonely fighter pilot. Tomorrow he will return to Skyhaven and you will go back to the office. It will feel as if nothing has changed, but it has. Everything has changed.
The lines that shouldn’t have been crossed have been crossed and next time he falls into the abyss you intend to jump in after him.