The Chocolates

By February 10th, Oakhaven felt different to Caleb.

The grey static of the town seemed to be getting heavier. Shadows in the corners of his vision lingered a second too long. Food began to lose its taste; his morning coffee tasted like hot water, and his sandwiches tasted like cardboard.

The only thing that felt real was Vance, and by extension, Maya.

Maya and Caleb had gone on three dates in five days. It was a whirlwind, but it felt... off. Maya didn't talk about old movies anymore. She didn't talk about her cat or her family. She talked about Caleb. She stared at him with an intensity that bordered on unhinged. She touched him constantly, her hands cold, seeking his warmth.

"She’s ready for the next step," Vance told him on the evening of the 12th.

Vance was in Caleb’s kitchen, chopping vegetables for a stew that smelled overpowering—copper and rot, masked by heavy spices.

"What step?" Caleb asked. He felt tired. His skin looked pale in the bathroom mirror, drained.

"The binding," Vance said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, heart-shaped box. It wasn't cardboard. It felt like velvet, but slightly damp. "Give her these tomorrow. Chocolates. My own recipe."

Caleb took the box. It was warm. It pulsed, faintly, against his palm like a dying bird.

"Vance," Caleb whispered, his stomach turning. "What is this? It's... warm."

"Active ingredients," Vance winked. "Love is biological, Caleb. Phenylethylamine. Serotonin. Heat. Don't overthink it. Do you want her to love you forever? Do you want to never be alone again?"

Caleb looked at the throbbing box. He thought of the empty weekends. The silence.

"Yes," Caleb said.

He gave Maya the chocolates the next day. She ate them at her desk, one by one, without chewing, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"Delicious," she slurred. "I feel... so close to you, Caleb. Like we're the same person."