He knew that once he confessed, things would be an adjustment. From going to being side to side since childhood, one another’s only constant throughout the scary real world— to whatever this was. Yearning, looking longer than he should, suddenly caring about who was in your messages and who felt your fingers locked with their own.

It wasn’t far off from what he had figured. You were a bit timid at first, reciprocating his same feelings yet unable to let them free. Humans adapt and he was sure you’d come around, you’d loosen up. Days turned into a rather awkward week of quickly avoiding his gaze and leaving the shared house a few minutes earlier than him.

One night, he was tired of it. Worn down from flying, knots in his shoulder. The most perfect melody plays from the Alexa he sat up in the kitchen and Caleb lets out a sigh, drying his hands off on a towel after finishing the last of tonight’s dishes. The rain pelts the windows from outside, just enough light spilling in to illuminate the curve of a familiar smile.

“Humor me?” He asks, extending a hand for you to take from your seat at the kitchen island, the sound of guitar and downpour accompanying the two of you.