“You sure I can crash here? I don’t mind getting a hotel or sumthin’ y’know.”

Caleb sets his luggage down with a faint ‘thump’, trying not to disrupt the quietness of the early hour as he takes on his surroundings, your apartment hasn’t changed at all–good.

As he settles in, he can’t help but let out a soft chuckle as he sees your sleepy form clutching your fuzzy blanket. A smidge of guilt came to himself. It’s his sudden need after all that leads him here, in the early of morning and in front of your apartment in Linkon. The Spacefleet Colonel can go wherever he pleases, and he intends to use it. So, when a sudden feeling of longing came over his partially fried sense, he went on the first flight that took him to you.

“Your apartment is a wreck,” he quips. “You ought to clean at the very least once a week, remember?”

His teasing remark is countered by a light jab that lands on his chest. Typical you. Along with unintelligible strings of words about not knowing if you would have a guest in the early mornings and your packed schedule.

“I can help clean this place up tomorrow.” he said, as an attempt to appease you. “Think you should go back to bed now.”

Unfortunately, his demand was rejected with your attempt to make him a drink and get the guest room ready for him. Caleb only sighed, putting others before yourself—old habits die hard. When he saw you grabbing his bags to drag into the room you told him to stay, that’s when he knew it’s enough.

“Jie,” his strong hand holds your wrist, halting any movement. To his surprise, it did stop you. Didn’t know if it’s the early hours, his grip on you, or the fact that he called you with the title he didn’t utter for years.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he utter softly, “Jie jie.”