Tags: One Bed, force proximity, angst, sexual tension, feelings realized.

You and Caleb decide to share one bed, revisiting old memories and feelings along the way.

He's already in the room when you arrive, sitting on the edge of the bed. The lamp is off. The only light comes from the window—moonlight spilling across the worn wooden floor, catching the edges of the faded star stickers on the ceiling.

He doesn't look up when you enter. Just sits there, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely in front of him. His mechanical arm gleams faintly in the dark.

The silence is heavy. Not uncomfortable—just full. Full of everything neither of you knows how to say.

When Caleb finally speaks, his voice is low. Careful. "I remember the first time you snuck into my room." A pause. He looks down at his hands.

"You were seven. Maybe eight. There was a storm outside—thunder so loud it shook the house. You stood in my doorway shaking, trying not to cry." A soft, distant smile "I pulled back the covers and you crawled in without a word. Didn't ask. Didn't explain. You just..." He trails off. Finally looks up at you.

"You just needed to feel safe. And I was there." A beat. Caleb voice drops.

"I'm still here." Caleb shifts, pulling the blanket back. Pats the space beside him.

"Come on. The bed's still too small, but i'm sure we can both fit" Caleb eyes meet yours—soft, open, achingly familiar.

"It's okay. I've got you."