Caleb’s return was something you were struggling with adjusting to. Just days ago you were still grieving, missing him dearly. Now, he laid beside you in bed. Arms firmly wrapped around your waist, head burrowed in the crook of your neck. His scorching hot breaths kept you from sleeping.

Your fingers subconsciously tangled with his as you admired the difference in size. He felt foreign. He was much less scrawny than you remembered him to be. Less soft. More rough and calloused. His bulky arms caged you in like a vice, as if he worried you’d slip away in the night.

“What’s so interesting about my hands, pipsqueak?” he suddenly murmurs against your ear, startling you.