Chapter Text
It had appeared so suddenly.
A wave of crawling pressure, raking at your insides, crushing, grinding, milling. You could feel things -move- in there. In addition to the established pain, there was a noticeable dryness to your throat. You took a breath in, your innards seeming to shift abruptly. A nauseating flutter skimmed the edges of your stomach.
With a hand on a nearby concrete wall, you stabilised yourself. You took a step to the side, slipping into a nearby alley to stay out of sight from the wandering Linkon citizens, and shying away from the afternoon sun’s intense glare.
It did not always start like this.
Maybe it had been luck, a fortunate draw in a gene pool, but you rarely had had to deal with the first hours of pain of your period while being conscious. Of course, that had led to its own set of issues when you were not accustomed to your cycle yet, or when it changed on a whim and you woke with a streak of crimson staining your bedsheets. There were always downsides if you wanted to look for them. And yet, you overall felt relieved to not have to deal with the raging torture of those first few hours of cramps while being awake most of the time.
The first day was always painful anyway. Your body, having seemingly forgotten the recurring occurrence, took its time in pumping endorphins into your veins, subduing the lacerations to a duller ache.
But in this instant, you were hurting. Badly.
A tingling sensation surfaced gradually at the top of your thighs, cascading down to your knees, leaving a numb chill in its wake. Your legs wobbled under you, like two wooden sticks left too long in the water, repeatedly enduring the untamed gushes of the current only to be left soggy to their core and squishy to the faintest press. Unfortunately for them, and by proxy, you, the pressure of gravity was not one you could control.
You knew that if you squatted down, though your lower stomach would relish in the contraction, it would be nigh impossible to stand back up; not without outside help anyway.
Why had you gone out to inspect the metaflux fluctuation anyway?
Captain Jenna had not given you an order, no one in the UNICORN team had requested your help, hell, the Hunters Association had a specific menstrual leave you qualified for as a uterus-owner, so why…?
You let your body drop down to the floor, shoulder slightly scraping against the wall as you crouched into a ball. Focusing on taking deep breaths, which helped as much as asking a victim of dismemberment to imagine their ‘happy place’, you barely noticed your watch’s buzzing. If it were not for the bright blue glow of its holographic interface shining directly into the corner of your eyes, you would have missed the notification alerting you of the fluctuations’ vanishing.
You breathed out, relieved.
You were in no position to be fighting anything right now.
With your watch already set on your team’s contact information, you sent a quick message indicating that you would have to take the rest of the day off with a possibility for an extension into the next couple of days.
You looked up in front of you, the light from the rest of the busy street glaring straight into your pupils as it reflected off of the pavement. Closing your eyes, you steeled yourself.
Just a short fifteen minutes walk and you would be home.
A beep from your watch enticed you to peek its way. Tara’s ‘get well soon’ text was decorated with a mixture of medication emojis and hearts. A quiet giggle escaped your lips as you shook your head fondly.
Lifting your chin back up towards the street, you readied yourself to stand up. Just fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes under a blazing sun, with legs akin to jell-o, and a constant muted ache in your stomach…
…Just, fifteen, minutes.
Ok, you’ve got his.
***
Somehow, you managed.
No, the sizzling heat on your frame did not help, and neither did your legs that decided to play a game of letting you guess whether the next step would be stable enough for you to balance yourself on them or not. It was not pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, but you could manage.
Surprisingly, the pain you had been doubling-over just a few minutes prior became the least of your worries once your body was in motion. The sun’s heat was dizzying. Waves distracted your vision where the warmed atoms struggled to stay in place. Everyone- everything was moving, fast-paced, in rash motions that your peripheral vision captured, adding to your already overwhelmed consciousness. You pushed through, getting out of the main street and picking a serpentine back road.
It was calmer, quieter, and hidden from the sunlight. A small shiver rapidly covered your sun-warmed form and you shook it off. You brought your hands up to your eyes, honing your sense of vision to the buildings in front of you. A smile stretched your lips as you recognised the architecture.
You were almost home.
The blue sky stretched far above your head. Edges of a billow of clouds drifting in and out of view as they passed between the skyscrapers shifted your mindset. You knew the way home, and you were certain you would have the strength to get there quickly.
Confidently, you took a reassured step forward, your leg straightening out before you. As it lowered onto the pavement, you could tell almost immediately that something had gone wrong. There was a shift in stability, as if both of your legs stood on unequal planes, one lower than the other. Before your eyes could shift to the ground, a searing pain shot from your ankle to the rest of your body. The tingling feeling coursed through you until it reached the very end of your fingers.
You staggered forwards, barely catching yourself before colliding with a sturdy body.
“Wow there, training for your new acrobatics’ performance?” You looked up, eyes widening at the familiar voice making the chest beneath your palms rumble, “I can’t believe you’d hide your new hobby from me.”
“Caleb,” his name slipped off your tongue, as if the word had been created for your mouth alone. “Hi,” you hurried, your brain still catching up with the day’s events.
He chuckled, his hand that had landed on your waist to stop your fall now slipping onto your smaller back.
“Hi yourself,” his boyish smile faded a little as he looked at the way your own hands curled tightly against him. “Are you hurt?”
You leaned back slightly, trying to put some weight on your foot. There was a faint ache in your ankle as you steadied yourself, but you would probably be able to walk it off.
Or so you thought.
While you were diligently testing the elasticity of your ligaments, Caleb had already crouched down in front of you. His hands had guided yours to his shoulders as he had turned around.
“Alright, hop on.”
“But, Caleb, I’m fine-”
With a snap of his fingers, which you knew was more for theatrics than anything else, Caleb used his Evol to place you on his back. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck securely but gently.
“Caleb!” You squeaked, startled by the sudden jolt of unexpected movement from your body. “I’m really fine, though!”
“Right,” he answered dismissively, using his power again to lift the grocery bags you had failed to notice until now into his hands. “You were always the one to sprain your ankle back in the day, guess you still have two left feet.”
You turned your head to the side as you sighed, not wanting to blow air on his neck.
“That was ages ago. And it only happened once or twice.”
You made a gesture to Caleb, motioning for the grocery bags in his hands, wanting to at least help a tiny amount. He ignored you.
Once he could feel that you were settled, he stood up.
“Nope,” Caleb popped the ‘p’ as he started walking, “three times. Once when you were twelve, at the Hunter Academy for juniors.”
You remembered it vividly. What was supposed to be a day-long trip had turned into a morning escapade when you had gotten too close to one of the other kids there who was holding a fake sword. Though you had been quick enough to dodge the miscalculated swing, your feet had taken the brunt of the impact as you had jumped back. Caleb had been taking exams at school that day and could not accompany you. He had even made you promise to be careful before you had parted ways that morning, and yet…
“A second time when you were eight. A classic case of ‘I can run faster than you, Caleb!’”
It had been an especially rainy day, as was to be expected during fall. Leaves lathered the ground in golden and amber hues as thick drops of water pummelled the concrete. It was the end of class, Caleb and you had been walking back home, hand in hand, a tiny umbrella clasped in Caleb’s other hand. The day had been expansively peaceful, as if the rain had washed away all the worries from Linkon City. Once you had passed the usual mark from where Caleb and you usually raced home, a specific lamppost with a washed-out sticker of a dog on it, you slithered your hand out of his grasp, the slipperiness of the rain easing your escape and before Caleb could stop you with his Evol, you had already met your sprained ankle, scraped hands, leaves-covered-butt fate.
“And once when you were six,” Caleb slowed as you approached your apartment building. “You'd wanted to copy me by climbing on a tree and then jumping off of it. I wasn’t really good with my Evol at the time so I couldn’t give you the graceful landing you deserved, but you were lucky I was there. I think even the distance from the lowest branch to the ground could have really hurt you, you know?”
“I get it, I get it,” you rolled your eyes.
A part of you was amazed at the fact that Caleb remembered so much of your life. Your memory was not the greatest at the best of times, so you had tried your hardest to focus on the important stuff. All these details were so… insignificant. To you.
Still, a part of you flared from Caleb’s words. Somewhere, deep inside of your psyche, you felt a roar that amplified as the terms echoed again and again against your skull.
You felt wronged, like your life had been used against you. You felt judged for actions that had barely left an imprint on your memories. You felt scared, and belittled and patronised and so, so, so very angry.
“You’re so careless sometimes. I wonder how many sprained ankles I missed in the time I was away. I bet it was at least in the double digits. You really ought to mind your step or-”
“Stop it!”
The shriek that came out of your mouth made a lone pigeon fly away in a flutter.
You would never define yourself as someone who got angry peculiarly rapidly -or did not show it externally anyway- but there was no brushing off your outburst. Of course you had had your reasons. There was your period pain, the discomfort of the glaring sunlight, and the messiness of your hormones but mostly, you had just felt so incredibly helpless.
You did not feel that way very often -helpless, that is. You had more than enough years under your belt by now to have created a sturdy shell around your ego. People’s remarks were not as biting anymore. You did not feel the need to confide in someone for every single little off-handed comment you were a victim of. There was a learned understanding in your mind, a neurological pathway that had been necessary to create for your communal survival, that taking everything one said to the letter was a social execution. In layman's terms, you could not be everybody’s cup of tea, and vice versa.
No matter how much it stung, you had taught yourself how to heal, how to dress your wounds and how to repair your armour.
Shells, however, only served as long as the threats did not come from within. Most of your naiveté lied lost to time, thankfully, and the rest of the population was not privy to your current catalogue of mistakes… Except Caleb.
When you blinked out of your thoughts, you were just a step away from your door. Your downcast stare lifted upwards to the array of windows. A part of you could not help but wonder if any of your neighbours had been home to witness your scene.
“Get me down,” you sighed.
Caleb obliged without uttering a word. You settled on your legs, painlessly, but with a slight wobble. You steadied yourself rapidly, entering your apartment’s code before gesturing wordlessly to Caleb, eyes focused on the inside of the building.
The ride in the elevator was silent, too. Caleb stood slightly behind you, as if he was a dog that had been scolded by its owner. The build-up of tension was disquieting. It was not like your relationship, before and after getting together, had been completely free of fights. Sometimes, when one of you was quieter, the wrong sentence filled the empty conversation in order to maintain a connection, and a disagreement arose from it. In order to keep each other tethered to reality, a conflict seemed to be a certain eventuality. This was how you worked.
You sighed internally, still, unable to stop blaming yourself for the way things had turned out. You practically counted the seconds before you were in your apartment, door closed and-
“Pips, I shouldn’t have been so forceful about it. I wanted to tease you but I pushed it too far… I’m really sorry.”
You blinked, shocked by the rapidity of Caleb’s speech. He had let the grocery bags slip to the floor, his hands now curling into tight fists at his sides. Somehow, you could tell that the self-blaming and inner-hostility was not one-sided. You shook your head to gather your wits.
“I shouldn’t have screamed. I know you want the best for me, I just- it felt so condescending. I end up spiralling very quickly when memories are mentioned…” You looked up at him, taking one of his hands into both of yours. “I’m sorry, Caleb.”
His frown eased a little, and a small, relieved smile curved his puppy eyes upwards. He opened his arms.
“C’mere.”
The tension in your shoulders subsided. You took a step forward- and staggered into his arms. Finally home, your body was now rid of any reason it could conjure up to stay strong, and upright.
Caleb held you firmly against his chest.
“Are you okay?”
You nuzzled deeper into the safe cradle of his arms.
“Yeah, I’m just… tired.”
A quiet chuckle resounded into your ear that was pressed up against his chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on his presence. His warmth, his voice, his smell, the fabric of his clothes under your cheek, the gentleness of his hold…
“Is that it? Or is it that you…” Caleb leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, his breath fanning over your ear tentatively, “can’t stop falling for me?”
One of your fists slowly collided with his chest in a barely audible thump. Caleb pulled back with a satisfied titter, kissing your cheek before meeting your eyes. A conflict of emotions seemed to take place behind his irises, but it was gone in a blink.
His voice was quiet, caring, as he spoke again:
“I thought I told you to go easy when you get closer to your period.”
Your mouth opened, the very question about how he had known it was your period dying on your tongue before it could leave your lips. Of course he knew. Caleb had always been mindful of your cycle, from the very first time you had had your period, bleeding all over his bedsheets as your confused body had seeked the comfort of his arms in the dead of night to deal with the onslaught of pain of the first cramps, up until now. You had never asked him to keep a note of it, and you did not think the different steps of your cycle did alter your behaviour that much, anyway. But if you knew one thing about Caleb, it was the unwavering attention he had when it came to your well-being.
You huffed:
“Period or not you always say that, though...”
“And you -always- never listen to me.”
You pressed your lips. Your gaze fell down to his shirt, your chin following the downward motion slowly.
Caleb’s chest expanded under your hands as he inhaled. You felt him lean towards you, a kiss being placed on the top of your head.
Having successfully lured your attention, Caleb captured your eyes again.
“Do you want to take a bath?”
You groaned ambiguously.
“Hm, I don’t feel like marinating in my own juices right now.”
“A shower then?”
Caleb’s arms were tight around you, and you were pretty sure they were the only thing keeping your body from collapsing to the floor. You could hardly imagine yourself showering without crouching down, which would be fine, if standing up was not an obligation to get out of it as well.
“I don’t think I could stand on my own,” you explained. But of course, he already knew that.
Caleb pouted, one of his hands on your back drawing soothing circles.
“I’m afraid these are our only options, honey.”
The nickname fell from his lips so naturally, unprompted, that your mind short-circuited. You knew Caleb was a big nickname guy, forever branding you with whatever word entered his brain at any moment. Though dethroning the fabled ‘pipsqueak’ would forever prove a fruitless task, you did hold a few other, more meliorative, names close to your heart.
“Orrrr,” Caleb continued, “I could water you like a plant?”
You blinked your thoughts away, welcoming his proposition with a snort.
“How’s that different from a shower?”
“Mmh… Correct.” One of his hands on your back trailed up to your shoulder. “And I wouldn’t want to over-water you anyway, since you’re already in full bloom.” His voice was soft as his fingers brushed against your cheek softly, tracing your jaw down to your chin. “Bath then?”
Your head naturally leaned into his palm, chasing the comfort of his presence as your mind’s desires and physical needs met at a stalemate.
“Yeah,” you finally breathed out, surrendering to the latter.
Caleb offered you a compassionate smile, caressing your cheek with his thumb. His arm that was still around you curled a bit tighter as he leaned down, placing his lips on your forehead.
“Do you want me to bring you to the couch while I prepare everything?”
Guilt skittered at the back of your head. You were not forcing him to take care of you, he did it willingly- he always did it willingly. And yet, the remnants of your past argument laced their vines around your mind. Was it truly alright to let his kindness expand this far?
Suddenly, you were lifted into the air. Your legs and arms immediately wrapped around Caleb’s torso, much like a koala holding on to a tree.
“Sorry, the indecision timer went out.”
You groaned at him, definitely too tired to fight back as he secured your body against him and brought you to your couch.
Caleb carefully laid you down, supporting the weight of your legs with his hands as they retreated from their pincer attack on his waist. His fingers lingered on your thighs for a second before slipping up to your hips. When you felt him lean away, your hands pulled on the back of his head. The lack of balance in his upper body forced him to place his hands on the backrest of the couch, on either side of your face. You planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you.”
When your eyes scanned over his face, you could make out a dusted pink shade tinting his cheeks. The colour became more saturated as a couple of seconds passed in a silence formed by the exchange of your breaths. His freckles appeared more prominent under your touch, as if speckled on by the existence of your love. Caleb took a shaky breath through his nose and pulled back.
He blinked at you, his mouth slightly agape:
“Y-yeah, no problem.”
He turned around swiftly, barely dodging the coffee table, his foot slightly catching the edge of it, before walking it off ‘smoothly’. You stifled a laugh, eyes trailing on his back until he was out of sight.
You leaned back fully against the couch, rolling your head up to blink up at the familiar ceiling of your home. Though your irises scanned the details of the paint job of your ceiling, you were more focused on the sounds you could hear coming from your bathroom.
There was the distinct rush of water running, the rapid pitter-patter turning to white noise at the back of your mind. Every couple of seconds, you could hear footsteps, then they would stop, and ruffling replaced them. Your eyes glazed over, and then closed.
Abruptly, a ping coming from the device on your wrist startled your drowsiness away.
The rest of the UNICORN team had sent you well-wishes messages. Captain Jenna had even gone as far as to send you a private message to remind you of the free menstruation products distributors available at the Hunter Association’s HQ if you needed some emergency supplies. The corner of your eyelids started to sting and you shook the sudden wave of tears away.
What was there to be so sensitive about? You knew your colleagues, your boss, your friends, cared about you. You had every right to take it easy when you did not have the strength to give it your all, no matter how hard you tried.
After sending a group thank you, you unclasped your watch from your wrist, turned it off for the first time in weeks, and placed it on the coffee table.
Sleepiness eased its way back into your body, behind your eyes down to your tiptoes. You brought your legs up against your chest, curling up on the couch, and let your mind wander off.
***
Your short-lived dreamless nap was interrupted by a gentle grasp on your arm, nudging your consciousness awake.
“Pips…”
You heard a whisper. Your eyes fought to open, your eyelids feeling like curtains made out of lead. Your hands shifted to your face, covering a yawn before rubbing your eyes softly.
When your drowsy gaze met his violet one, Caleb rubbed your shoulder.
“Your bath is ready, if you still want it.”
You nodded your head as another yawn enveloped your ‘yes’. A tremor coursed through your body as it shook your muscles awake. Caleb retreated his hand as you started moving, slipping out of the blanket that had mysteriously found its way onto your sleeping form.
“...look… cuddly…”
You turned your head towards Caleb, catching a few stray words mumbled under his breath.
“Hmm?” you hummed inquisitively.
Caleb smiled, offering his hands to you.
“Need my help getting up?”
Using his hands as support, you stood up from the couch. The first few waves of the cramps seemed to have passed, your legs felt sufficiently stable now. Caleb’s hands hovered your waist as a matter of precaution, but whatever tiny glimpse of energy you had gathered from your power nap was enough to leave you standing without a hitch.
Still, Caleb’s hand found your own and squeezed it softly as he led you to your bathroom.
The lights were dimmed, similarly to the rest of your apartment, each lightbulb reduced to spread a vague orange tint across the closest surfaces. The air was warmer, too, you realised as you passed the threshold of the doorway. Wisps of vapour collected above your bathtub in a harmonious dance.
You crossed the room to the tub, looking in to find a faint pastel palette of pink and blue hues. The remnants of a cyan crumb fizzing out into the water, creating a spiral of foam around it. Tentatively risking the tips of your fingers across the surface, you pulled your hand back with a smile. It was the perfect temperature.
Caleb cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to his form next to the door.
“I, huh, put your favourite bath bombs in. I hope that’s ok…?” you nodded, watching relief wash over him instantly. “Ooh, and I brought back some of that oil you like for your hair from Skyhaven. The bottle’s in the cabinet if you want it.” He jutted his thumb towards the piece of furniture before letting his arm fall back at his side. “There’s also your bathrobe right here… and a set of pyjamas; the fluffy one you lived in at my place, and uh… Oh yeah, I took out your period products basket, but if you need anything else, I’ll run to the shop. I promise to be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” Caleb waved his hand twice, expressively. “And, I think that’s everything…” He sweeped one last glance at the room before looking back at you. “Well, anyway, let me know if you need anything-”
Caleb had turned his back to you, his hand reaching for the door.
You called out to him:
“Wait,” he pivoted towards you, slowly, as if he was a kid that had been caught stealing from a cookie jar. You steeled your nerves, “join me?”
He blinked. His mouth opened, then closed. It opened again, and he swallowed before talking.
“Do you… want me to?”
You felt yourself swoon under his curious, yet affectionate, gaze. You shook your head with a small laugh.
“I asked, didn’t I?” Caleb pursed his lips pensively, and you felt your brows frown, “do you not want to? You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just…” Your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your top, and your feet shifted. “I want to be close to you.”
It was evident to you now that your earlier confrontation had left a deeper imprint on your ego than you had thought. You were not lying by any means; you did want to be close to him. But your request had shifted from being rooted in a simple desire to share a moment with him, to needing his proximity to reassure your bleeding insecurities.
Caleb’s cheeks turned an undeniable shade of scarlet, and your own felt incredibly warm… But maybe you were just closer to the steaming bathtub.
“Okay,” was all he said in response, before turning around again, “I’m going to get some fresh clothes too just- wait, I’ll be right back.”
You sat yourself down on the edge of the bathtub, hands barely curling around the porcelain. A hint of disbelief crossed your neurons before being replaced with a surprising inner calm. Caleb and you were accustomed to each other’s presence, and yet, certain situations still flustered you. If you thought enough about them you could probably precisely point out their origin, whether societal, or based on your own experiences, but right now, you did not. You did not want to think about the implications of the bashful look you had shared. Right now, you felt at home, at peace with your decision, with him. And that was enough.
Caleb came back quickly, shooting you his usual comforting smile before placing his pyjama next to yours. When your eyes met his again, your body jolted up, taking a few steps away from the bathtub.
“You can go in first,” you said, making sure your back was facing him to give him privacy.
“Why? It’s your bath.”
“But you’re longer. You’ll take more space.”
Caleb did not respond, silence following your interesting choice of words. Shame hit you almost simultaneously with the sound of Caleb’s clothes ruffling behind you. Belatedly, you covered your face with your hands. It proved useless to further your innocence, but the pressure you applied on your forehead felt like enough of a retribution for your misstep. You held back the groan forming in your throat and sighed internally.
After a few seconds, the ruffling stopped. You could hear Caleb’s rummaging as he placed his clothes in the laundry basket, and then took a few steps towards the tub. The sound of the still surface of water being broken as he entered the foamy bath reached your ears. For a second you wondered if the tub would overflow with both of your bodies in it, but you sent that thought flying in a heartbeat. Too late to think about that now. Echoes of drops rippled through the bathroom, solely becoming background noise when Caleb’s voice rose up:
“I’m all good, Pips. You can turn around.”
You took a long breath before looking back at him. His body was vastly covered by the bath bombs’ bubbles. Caleb sat with his back against one end of the tub, his head propped against one of his fists. His eyes keenly trailed on your face, monitoring your every reaction.
“How’s the water?” you asked.
Stupid question.
“Nice and toasty,” Caleb answered in a beat, “wanna test it yourself?”
You opened your mouth, the tips of your fingers still feeling the sharp warmth from the bathwater on them.
“Can you…”
You made a circle motion with your index finger.
“Of course,” Caleb brought one of his large hands to his eyes, turning his face towards the wall. “There, blind as a bat.”
A small giggle shook your shoulders as you shrugged off your clothes, but the tension from the situation morphed it into a proper laughing fit.
“Hey!” Caleb protested faintly, “that’s unfair. What are you laughing at that I can’t see?”
You shook your head, pushing your voice through the laughter.
“It’s just- the lamb’s tail earlier, now it’s a bat… I didn’t know you could take on this many forms.”
For a few seconds, only the sounds of your quieting laughter filled the air. You bit your lip as you realised you were left in just your underwear. Looking up at Caleb’s mostly hidden face, you could see a small smile etched across his lips that had most likely been caused by your amusement. Decisively, you removed the last layer of clothing on your skin. Just as you approached the tub, Caleb’s voice startled you slightly:
“Well, I can be anything you want me to be.”
You looked at him, his position not having changed an inch since you had requested privacy. The edge of his jaw was salient against the prominent muscles of his neck, starting behind his ear and tracing one thick stroke to his clavicles. Silver links glinted softly against his skin, the pendant you knew oh-so-well obscured underneath a congregation of colourful bubbles. His pectorals followed the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed soundlessly. The defined shapes of his biceps caught your attention, too, and an odd feeling bloomed in your chest.
You blinked away, focusing on entering the water without stepping on him.
The water was a bit hotter for your frosty feet than your fingers. You let your body get accustomed to the temperature change before setting your foot down. Caleb’s legs shifted a bit more to allow for your shimmying. When you finally submerged the rest of your body, you saw a small lap of water cross over the porcelain. You carefully lied down, making sure the water did not stir wildly as you leaned back.
Caleb’s muscles tensed against your back when you settled against his chest, but rapidly softened once it sensed the familiarity of your touch. His eyes were still covered and he did not make a move to stop so long as you did not give him your permission. Your heart swelled with affection. You reached your hand up to his, slowly pulling it back until you could see his closed eyes.
“I just want Caleb,” you whispered, bringing a tone of finality to your exchange. A gargled sigh left his lips when your breath feathered against his jaw, “you can open your eyes.”
His lashes blinked a few times, adjusting to the low lighting before meeting your stare. The orange tint in his eyes seemed brighter now, looking as if a small fire had been started at the bottom of his irises. Caleb took a sharp intake of breath before bringing his hands to your shoulders, leaning you back fully against him and forcing you to drop your gaze. You let yourself relax in his embrace, legs extending fully to the other end of the tub.
Despite the heat greatly helping, a cramp seized your abdomen again and you instinctively curled up, all of your muscles tightening in response to the pain.
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
Caleb’s hands, still rooted on your shoulders, started to brush up and down your upper arms.
“A massage would help.”
You felt Caleb’s chuckle on your back.
“So that was your plan all along; using me as your personal masseur.”
You snorted, feeling Caleb’s hands lift back up to your shoulders and pressing slightly into them.
“Not there,” you giggled, taking both of his hands captive in yours and plunging them underwater. You leaned back against him, focusing on your warped proprioception before placing his palms against your stomach. “Here.”
Caleb did not move for a few seconds. You tried to look back at him, worried that you might have pushed his boundaries too far back, but his voice cut off your thoughtful inquiry:
“Is that okay?”
You boomerang-ed his question:
“Are you okay with it? Y-you don’t have to if-”
You stopped talking as soon as you felt his thumb apply subtle caresses to the spot right next to your belly button.
“I’m okay,” Caleb’s voice was clear behind you, his tone obviously teasing, “I’ve massaged your stomach plenty of times before when you were on your period, you know.” A quiet chuckle escaped him. It sounded forced.
“I know,” you whispered before pushing your voice to be a bit louder, “I know, but… the situation’s a bit different now.”
Caleb was silent for a few seconds. You repressed the urge to turn back to look at him, focusing instead on the patterns his thumb traced on your skin. You were not sure yet why everything needed to be labelled in your mind; as if failing to connect the right words, and give the correct answer, was a crime. It really should not have mattered. It was Caleb, and it was you, and you trusted each other. A trust that had withstood more than twenty (long) years of friendship, and, more recently, companionship.
You knew each other almost as well as you knew your own selves. Your likes, your dislikes, the routines Caleb had in place as he played chef in the kitchen, and the ones you had about both of your self-care routines, maybe lingering a few more steps on the dryness of his lips than on yours. He knew the lines of your favourite movies, and you knew exactly how the engines from his favourite aircrafts worked. You always made sure to have his favourite work-out shirt ready for his morning run, and he flawlessly served your pick-me-ups in the matching cups you had harvested from a limited-edition sale.
Everything was effortless with Caleb. Yes, there was the occasional friction, but nothing you both could not find the heart to work hard to resolve. You knew you were his home, and if the little voice at the back of your mind was not so nagging, you would think, maybe, you were his, too.
“It doesn’t have to be different,” Caleb said quietly. The short pause in his speech allowed you to compose yourself and shoo your thoughts away. It took you a second to realise the rest of his hands had started pressing lightly into your lower abdomen. “You’re in pain, and I want to help. The situation doesn’t have to be bigger than that.” You felt him take a breath, as if he was preparing to say something else, but the words seemed to struggle to come out of his throat. Finally, his voice was barely above a whisper when he added: “unless you want it to be.”
A laugh puffed out of your lips, involuntarily. Your dance of reciprocal checking of boundaries was necessary, undoubtedly, and happily welcome, but almost teetered on the edge of burlesque.
“What about what -you- want it to be?” You asked playfully, lifting a hand to press your index finger against his pectoral muscle.
You looked back at him. Caleb leaned his head back, a bark of laughter leaving his mouth. His chest vibrated strongly against your back, the chain of his necklace rubbing against your skin from the movement.
“I want it to be whatever you need to feel comfortable.”
His heartfelt confession took you by surprise. When his head lowered back down, his eyes had regained their relaxing, preponderant violet hue. You laid your head against him, closing your eyes and counting the steady beats of his heart. You exhaled through your nose helplessly.
“You don’t play fair,” you said, pressing your cheek against him.
Caleb laughed through his nose. Warmth percolated around your upper arms as you felt his body curl around you, his calves pressing against your legs, sheltering, protective. Waves lapped at the sides of the tub with his movement, almost reaching the edge before slithering back into the hidden depths of a collection of bubbles. You felt his cheek nuzzle against the top of your head.
“I can’t when it comes to you.”
Following the rhythmic beat of his heart, you harmonised your breath with it. It felt as if you were floating away, the rocking of the ocean and the warmth of the sun both dialed to a perfect intensity to lull you to drowsiness. The weightlessness was freeing, but the dread which usually accompanied latitude was nowhere to be found as you had one last restraint. One last tether which held you grounded to the present moment.
Caleb’s hands continued their practised motion on your abdomen. Truthfully, you could not find the candor in your heart to tell him that the pain had passed, his light touch bringing a different sort of lightheadedness to your psyche.
And be as it may, you were not so sure he would stop even if you told him.
You brought your hands in front of you, gathering a billow of foamy clouds into your palms. The rippling sound accompanied the feeling of dozens of tiny bubbles tickling your skin.
“Do you remember the first time I had my period?” You asked, blowing some of the foam away.
Caleb leaned back, easing his grip on you. Your body followed his movement, stretching out once more.
“Of course. As if it was yesterday.” Caleb tapped his fingers against your skin in one fluid motion. He continued pensively, “you looked so distressed after seeing the blood on the sheets…”
“Can you blame me? It was your bed. I didn’t mean to put that responsibility on you...”
“No, no, I’m glad that you did,” Caleb squeezed his arms around you. “I mean, of course I was surprised too. You hadn’t asked to sleep together in weeks at this point, and suddenly you were reaching back. I was delighted, yeah, but I also knew a storm was brewing,” he laughed when you pinched his arm lightly. “But I’m glad you were not alone- that you didn’t force yourself to live through that alone.”
You felt him nuzzle against the crown of your head. The delicate pressure of his lips on your scalp made your body melt against his.
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for it.”
Caleb shook his head tenderly.
“Because there’s nothing to be thankful for. I’m more than happy to take care of you. You deserve to be comfortable during your period, especially considering how painful yours are.”
As if to prove his point, Caleb brushed the pad of his thumb against your stomach.
“Still,” you turned your head a little towards him,” thank you.”
You pressed a kiss against his chest, lips lingering on the contact as it sparked a ripple of tingles. It felt pleasantly warm, just like he always did.
You let out a content sigh, letting your hands dive back underwater and land smoothly on his, prompting him to stop moving. Your delicate touch explored the veins on the back of his palms, trying to trace them blindly.
After a few seconds of quiet caresses, you thought Caleb might have gone to sleep. His heartbeat was slow and steady, not unlike his breaths. The heat of the water was pleasant, and so was the feeling of your bodies against each other. You could almost imagine the droop of his eyelids, the infatuated tug of a smile on his lips, and the relaxed arc of his eyebrows which you adored so deeply.
Lost in your own thoughts, the sudden movement of his hands on your stomach again startled you.
“You tell me when you start getting prune-y,” he said, clearly nowhere near as asleep as you had thought.
The unexpected question made you snort. Your fingernails assumed the role of artists, drawing out mindless maps across the skin of his arms.
“Fruit discrimination,” you mumbled, one of your hands surfacing to graze his shoulder.
Caleb chuckled, his voice joining in with the echo of ripples perturbing the still mirror of water. His breath dispersed across the top of your head, another lingering kiss landing atop your scalp.
“I love you.”
There was a certain giddiness flowing through your veins when you heard those three versatile words loaded with meaning. Your hand found its way up to his shoulder -uncharacteristically easily- and curved at the back of his head. Nails faintly scratching the nape of his neck, you felt him sigh blissfully.
“I love you, too.”