Photophobia

The Knot

The next couple of days were uneventful. They gathered food and Hux began to look for more tea plants. He noticed that Tico was getting restless. She would rub her hand on her overalls and look pensively into the fire. Then suddenly, she would get up muttering something about checking the transmitter and disappear for hours.

She was worried that the signal wouldn't be heard – which was a possibility of course. If they had stopped looking for them ... the question was of course when and if Ren would call off the search. Hux knew that he was an asset to the Order; the question was if Ren knew that, too. But on the other hand ... he really was only a cog in the machine in the end.

He scoffed. To think what he had done to get where he was, only to end up here. It was ridiculous. But at least ... he looked around and pulled the backpack closer – he reached inside and pulled the branch Tico had given him out.

At least he had met her. He traced the ornaments with the tips of his fingers. He had thought that he knew the galaxy and its workings, had thought that he knew people. Everybody was looking out only for themselves; the weak perished, the strong thrived. It was easy. Or so he had thought.

She was different. A fierce fighter with a gentle smile. But her gentleness wasn't feeble, it was firm. She could be nice to somebody like him, she was so strong that she could even be nice ... where did this leave him?

She had strength without cruelty. He had only cruelty without strength. He sighed and put the branch back in the backpack.

Perhaps he was never meant to be anything more than a rabid cur? Biting everything in sight and being put down once he had outlived his usefulness. It was all he had. It was all he could hope for.

Tico stared at the notches in a tree she had been carving in its bark. She looked increasingly pale and unwell. It was strange to see her so dejected. He wanted her to be her usual self, but he wasn't sure how to do that. Well, he liked it when she treated him. Perhaps it would console her ... or at least distract her. "Shall I check your splint?"

She blinked and looked at him for a moment before she nodded. She scooted closer and he started to inspect the splint. She exhaled when she lightly touched her wrist and from the corner of his eye he saw that she had closed her eyes. The expression on her face was not disgust but contentment.

He felt his heartbeat quicken – did- did she like him touching her? That wasn't possible, was it? He was confused and finished his task faster than he wanted.

"Your turn," he said a little louder than he had intended.

She watched her eyes snap open, she looked at him with a strange glint in her eye he couldn't interpret. Was it annoyance?

"It's almost healed. There is nothing more to do besides wait," she quietly said.

He felt embarrassed but decided to stay his course. "I prefer it if you were thorough, specialist."

She smiled and a warm feeling spread out in his chest.

"Alright, anything to keep you from calling me 'specialist'."

He noticed that his hands trembled a little when he unbuttoned his jacket and his shirt. He had goose bumps on his arms when she touched his bandage and removed it. A wisp of her hair had come loose. He had to suppress the urge to brush the hair away.

Suddenly she lifted her gaze and they stared in each other's eyes. He wanted to say something, anything but nothing sensible came to mind. He cleared his throat. "Thank you."