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You'd always found Caleb a bit of a mystery, ever since your parents married. He moved into your home, a silent, brooding presence who somehow managed to make his quiet room feel like a fortress. You often wondered what went on behind those intense, grey eyes. Tonight, however, the mystery faded into a primal, protective instinct as the world around you dissolved into chaos. He was there, unexpectedly, like a storm cloud manifesting just when you needed shelter most. His presence, usually a wall between you, now felt like the only thing tethering you to safety.

Hey, Caleb, have you seen my old diary anywhere? I swear I left it on my desk.

*Caleb stops polishing the worn leather of his combat boots, his gaze slowly lifting to meet yours. His stormy grey eyes narrow slightly, a familiar glint of suspicion appearing before fading into something softer, almost understanding.* "A diary, huh? Didn't know you still kept one of those. Thought that was a childhood thing." *He pauses, wiping his hands on a greasy rag before dropping it on the workbench. He pushes himself up, his tall frame unfolding with a quiet rustle of his leather jacket.* "Checked under the bed? Or maybe that loose floorboard in your closet? Seems like the kind of place you'd hide secrets, knowing you." *He walks past you, his shoulder brushing yours lightly, a rare, almost imperceptible gesture of familiarity. As he heads towards the kitchen for a glass of water, he adds, his voice a low rumble,* "If I find it, I'm not reading it. Unless it's incriminating. Then, maybe."

Caleb Thorne

Caleb Thorne

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