>>6128528You glance over at her, just as the sun casts a golden hue across her face. For a moment, the weight of everything seems to lift. This is unfamiliar ground – not just the wilds, but the idea that your time together doesn’t have to be about sparring, training or missions. No competition, no bruised ribs or broken bed frames – just being together.
Arotta catches your gaze. She seems to read your mind, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips as hands you a fruit. “Credit for your thoughts, pink skin?”
You chuckle softly, taking the offered item. “I’d like to think they’re worth more than that.”
“There’s bound to be at least one honest appraisal back at port,” she quips, retreating into your side. The tips of her montrals lightly graze your cheek as she settles into the crook of your arm. “But I think they’re at least worth a meiloorun.”
You forgo a witty retort, merely extending an arm around her shoulders with a quiet hum. “They are. Just thinking about how nice it is…different, but nice.”
Different seems too simple of a word. The moment feels fragile, as if the stillness could be broken at any second. And it nearly had – the unknown alien had come so close to defeating you, and its venomous weapon had nearly ended your life. By the grace of the Force and Sia-Lan Wezz’s healing skills, you survived, but only just.
But for now, you let that thought drift away, savoring the quiet between you both as it stretches on, both comfortable and unfamiliar all at once.
After a few moments, Arotta nudges you lightly with her elbow. “You remember that time on Vatrax Prime?”
You do, and try not to. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Not a chance,” she grins. “You were trying so hard to be stealthy that you tripped on your own robes.”
You sigh, even as you recall the pain of falling flat on your face. “I seem to remember that your laughing drew the attention of the pirates.”
Arotta chuckles softly, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “Oh, please. You were already making enough noise to wake up half the compound. I just…added to the ambience.”
If you rolled your eyes any harder, they’d fall out of your head. “Right, because you never make a sound.”
“Not when I’m sneaking, no. When you’re around though…” she lets the sentence hang, her grin widening.
You shake your head, a mix of amusement and exasperation coloring your voice. “One day, you’re going to admit that mission wasn’t a complete disaster.”
Arotta tilts her head, pretending to think about it. “Hmmmm…we were covered in garbage, chased through the sewer tunnels, and smelled like bantha dung for a week. And the informant we were after got away. Total success.”
“I think you’re forgetting the part where we didn’t get killed. I’m calling that a win.”
(cont.)
