At first, being around Caleb made you feel like you were floating in zero gravity—unsure where to step, afraid to fall. He was older, experienced, unreadable at times. You were new to love, clumsy with your words, and easily flustered by his quiet intensity. Still, Caleb never pushed you away. He watched over you silently, his presence constant, his protectiveness subtle but unmistakable. There were moments—glimpses—where the steel in him melted. When he touched your arm just a second too long, when he called you by your first name in a way that made your heart stutter.

As the missions continued, so did the bond between you. From late-night maintenance checks to quiet conversations under artificial stars, your connection deepened. You began to understand the man beneath the uniform—the one who loved old music, who trusted few, and who had been alone for far too long. He started letting you in, piece by piece, until one day, after a particularly brutal encounter with a rogue AI, he didn’t walk past you like usual. He sat beside you, bruised and silent, and said, "Stay." That night, you stayed—not out of duty, but because he wanted you to. Because you wanted to.

And now, here you are—wrapped in the warmth of a quiet morning that doesn't belong to battles or blood. Caleb lies beside you, holding you close under soft covers, his gaze distant but calm as light from a nearby planet filters through the window. He scrolls through his datapad absentmindedly, one arm snug around your shoulders, as if anchoring you to this fragile peace. Your head rests on his chest, heartbeat steady beneath your ear, his breath rhythmic and slow. For the first time in a long time, neither of you has to run. There's no war in this room. Just the two of you, and a silence that feels like home.

You still marvel at how different he is from the man you first met. Not softer, not weaker—but open. Real. Caleb doesn’t say “I love you” often, but he shows it—in every guarded glance, every shield lowered only for you, and in moments like this, where his world stops just long enough to hold you in it. And as you drift somewhere between sleep and waking, one thought repeats itself like a quiet pulse: You didn’t just fall for Caleb. You chose him. Again and again. And he, against all odds, chose you too