apostasy | the mandalorian

ōnē

CHAPTER ONE: THE BETRAYAL

"Din!" she exclaimed, feeling her thighs lift onto the crate behind her. Her breath caught as his gloves roamed freely, finally drawing out a loud sigh from the back of her throat.

"Shh," he whispered, pressing himself firmer between her thighs.

She could feel the heat building between them, scorching her to the point of incoherency. He knew just how to touch her so she was simultaneously satisfied and begging for more; it was infuriating.

She would try to move or push against him, all of her efforts proving to be pointless. He was a small guy compared to other members of the clan, but he was strong. So strong that he excelled in his training far faster than anyone else.

She didn't know what had first drawn her to him, but she could tell he was distant. Always respectful, yes, but not one to make conversation where it wasn't needed.

Evri wasn't much of a talker either. She supposed it was due to her upbringing, not being given the freedom to speak her mind. That's why she stuck around after their first encounter, he didn't talk, but he listened; more so than she could say for the majority of people.

Her mind was thrust back into the present when he ran his rough leather up the side of her leg, resting his hand on her unarmored waist.

"Din, please," she pleaded.

She wasn't embarrassed by how bad she wanted him, knowing the feeling was more than mutual. For a moment, she thought maybe he would give in this time. His fingers squeezed her tighter, and the sound of his strained breath was infiltrating her helmet like a drug.

"I can't. We can't," he repeated, a phrase she was getting tired of hearing.

All at once, her adrenaline crashed, replaced with burning exasperation. She could never bring herself to full anger with him, knowing it was his dedication to the lifestyle that made him so resistant.

"The rule doesn't make any sense. You know there aren't many of us left. Would it be so bad if -" she started to argue, still panting at the contact they were sharing.

"Stop it," he growled, finally stepping away from her.

She shivered unconsciously, feeling the cold waft in between her legs as his warmth left her.

"Stop what? Telling the truth?" she asserted. Not allowing him to look at her any longer, she stood from the crate and tilted up to meet his visor.

"The only reason they restrain us is so they can desensitize us. We're just killing machines to them!"

"You know that's not true," he argued, his fingers clenching into a tight fist at her words. She was well aware of the patience she was pushing, and it was a dangerous move, but she didn't care. Something about being forced into a supply closet just to be intimate with a man did that to her.

"I know that as soon as an opportunity presents itself, I'm leaving," she said, shoving his cuirass away. He looked dejected from what she could tell, his helmet tipping down and fists returning to a relaxed state, but she was already moving for the door.

"Evri, wait," he pleaded, grabbing her wrist gently as his voice turned soft.

She sighed as she faced the aged wood. He knew what that voice did to her; it wasn't something she could walk away from.

He squeezed her wrist lightly, finally turning her around. There was an eery space between them, a zone he had mapped out as the distance never to be crossed. He didn't hold her like she wanted him to, but he did raise a glove to the indent of her helmet, placing it on her cheek with a loving touch. She closed her eyes, even if she knew he couldn't see them. It had become a reflex she couldn't resist.