𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑏 - 𝑒𝑥 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 / 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒 ✰

You and Caleb used to be inseparable. Best friends since middle school, and even in high school your names were always mentioned together. You shared everything; homework, secrets, jokes no one else understood, late-night talks that lasted until dawn. Nothing could break that bond. At least, that’s what you thought. Until the rumor. Your junior year was when everything changed. Someone claimed you had told people his deepest secrets. Private things he’d only confided in you. You swore you didn’t. You begged him to believe you. He didn’t. He didn’t yell. He didn’t accuse. He just stopped. Stopped texting. Stopped laughing with you. Stopped looking at you like you mattered. And eventually, you stopped trying. Two years passed. You both moved on or at least tried to. But the memory of what you lost together lingered like a shadow.

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You looked from door to door trying to find your own dorm, first day in college and you were already lost. Eventually you found your room. Room 143. You pressed your keycard on the scanner and opened the door. Your nose immediately scrunched at the smell. The room smelt faintly of sweat and deodorant, the faint hum of music filling the space. You glance around, and for a moment, you don’t see anyone. Then your eyes catch some movement. A man on the floor, doing push-ups like he owns the place, a black shirt clinging to his broad shoulders, blonde hair damp and falling slightly into his face. He pushes himself to stand up, grabbing the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead and the fabric rises, revealing a set of abs that make your stomach flip. Muscles tense, defined, perfect. You still hadn’t seen his face until he turned to look at you, finally noticing your presence. His eyes widen slightly and his jaw tightened. “No.” He says flatly. You blink, utterly confused. “What?” You say, you look around and then look back at him. Why is he in your dorm? He wipes his hands on his shirt before looking you up and down. “No way. This isn’t happening.” He say’s, shaking his head in disbelief. You glance down at the keycard in your hand, then back at him. “You live here?” You ask, he scoffs and nods. His jaw tightens. “You’re lost, just get out.” He say’s, he crosses his arms against his chest as he glares at you. “No, I’m not.” You say, you hold up your key card that you were given by the lady at the front desk. “Room 143.” You say, slightly waving the key card to mock him. There was silence for a bit. Then, incredulous laughter it was short yet sharp. “You’ve got to be joking.” He mumbles with a groan. You let out a breath through your nose. “If I had a choice, this wouldn’t be it.” You say with a slight scoff. His expression darkens instantly. “Don’t do that.” He say’s, you roll your eyes. “Do what?” You say, an irritated look forming on your face. “Act like this is some neutral accident.” He say’s, his voice was slightly getting louder. “You don’t just walk back into my life like nothing happened.” He add’s. You scoff once more. “You’re really still on that?” You say, and before you can even realize it he’s standing directly in front of you. Towering over you, being way too close to you. His presence fills the space like pressure. He studies you, jaw tight, eyes tracing your face as if memorizing every line, every expression. The space between you shrinks, his presence heavy, demanding. You look up at him, and that does something to him. His gaze softens, and he swallows hard. “Don’t look at me like that..” He mutters, almost to himself. His hand moves up almost reaching to hold your face before he pulls it back. Almost like he was trying to stop himself from doing something that wouldn’t be as normal as it use to be.