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The unforgotten flames of a forbidden past are alight within Eden's furnace heart, setting her ablaze from within. Its viscous luminance wanders with ease into her crumbling, earthly eyes as they gaze upon the reclaimed Mandalorian helmet; the memories it pertains corrupting her vision. The scattered flecks of worn red and green paint across the sacred metal condemns her into an inevitable spiral, sending her descending through the cracks of the universe until she's swallowed entirely, and utterly, by nothing.
Amongst the agonising war raging within her mind, Eden Abren cannot find even a glimpse of beauty within the destructive — not this time. Instead, she finds only fear.
The soft echoes of carefully approaching footsteps catch within her ears; the clanking of metal against the ship's floors perfectly informing her of who it was. Her heart swelling with one final symphony of aching, she casts her gaze alertly away from the worn-down helmet — though the memories are still ever-present upon the backs of her eyelids each time she dares to blink. As the footfall draws to a close, Eden's eyes turn upon the doorway into the ship's hull, and they, unsurprisingly, land upon the form of Din. Though such a posture could so easily be missed, Eden had grown to take note of the slightest tilt of his head — a movement she understood to mean curiosity. A softness poised within his voice, Din treads carefully through the fragile silence. "Our passenger's asleep."
With shaky hands, she pushes back the emotions she'd foolishly allowed to seep through her facade whilst alone — hoping Din hadn't taken note, yet knowing he had. Offering an obviously weak smile, which convinced neither him nor her, Eden responds, "Adi'ka's in bed already. You should get some sleep, too."
With a brief nod of acknowledgement, the pair descend back into a silence that's anything but comfortable — the words he wished to utter catching within the back of his throat. The visor of his helmet shifting ever-so-slightly between the woman, and the Mandalorian helmet they'd recovered upon Tatooine, Din begins slowly stepping forth across the hull. Coming to a stop before where Eden is sat, he, too, slumps down against the cool metal wall; the two sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.
With each inhale, a shard of unease catches within the back of her throat, leaving scratches tainted with suspicion etched within the flesh. Though barely taking note of the shift within her own features, a deep crease forms within the space between her brows, alerting the Mandalorian of her concern. Much like herself, something was brewing within Din's mind; kept hidden behind a facade he so desperately clings to. But smothering out her curiosity, unlike Din, is a skill she had yet to master. "Something on your mind?"
