The next day, Aviina felt better. Din checked on her from time to time, but only when he thought she was asleep. Grogu on the other hand, had been pinned to her side ever since he'd woken up, and when he had awoken it was with a shrill cry that pierced the night at his father's removing him from Aviina's side. Aviina wasn't sure if Din had brought him back to her to stop his crying or if he'd tottled back on his own, but ever since he'd been practically melded into her. As if he was afraid that if he wasn't making physical contact with her that she'd explode into star dust. Even now as she stood at the edge of Din's bed, gathering what few things she was taking with her into a canvas bag, he sat in front of her and used his force ability to take the things she put the bag out as soon as she turned her back.
"Knock it off," she scolded as she shoved a change of clothes back in the bag. Grogu furrowed his brow and his ears drooped in response. Guilt immediately flooded Aviina's body at the small pitiful creature that was somehow older than her. "I'm sorry, okay?" she said as she reached out for him. He jolted away from her and frowned deeper as he sat back on the bed. Making it clear that he was angry with her. And even though she detested his pouting, she savored it all the same. Because she was going to miss him.
She knew he was behind her before he spoke. She wouldn't have been half as successful at her chosen career if she didn't. She could tell by the shift in the air that there was a presence. And she could tell by the soft crackle of breath through a vocal modulator that it was Din. He wasn't supposed to be back yet.
"Aviina," the masculine tone said from the door way.
For the first time since their introduction, she dreaded turning around to see him. She'd always associated him with safety and contentment, but now the thought of seeing him frightened her. She was hoping to slip away before he noticed, however Grogu's antics delayed her further than she thought.
"Hi, Din," she said, his name feeling dry and coarse in her mouth.
He looked different. He was still crowned in Beskar, but he wasn't wearing his other armor. In its place he wore long sleeved dark fabric that stretched across his thick arms and chest. He wore no gloves, revealing the tan skin and calloused palms she longed to feel. His helmet tilted subtlety as he looked from her face, to the canvas bag she finished packing and back. Aviina looked away and stuck her tongue into her cheek, forgetting briefly about the cut on her lip. She cursed under her breath as her tongue swiped over the reopened wound and tasted the tang of blood.
"What are you doing?" though his voice was even keel, his posture suggested he was out of place, like he didn't know quite how to take the current situation.
"I...," for once she struggled to find the words. "I'm getting on the next shuttle to Tattooine. I, uh, wrote you a letter." She fished the folded piece of parchment out of her pocket, she held it out to him but he didn't reach for it.
"I don't want a letter. I want you to tell me," he said.
That was an impossible request. She'd struggled hard enough to write it down. Vocalizing her reasons was not something she was capable of. Aviina shook her head and gestured more adamantly with the paper in her hand.
"Please, just take this and read it after I'm gone," she said holding it out to him again. And still he made no move to take it. "Din. Please."
"No."
Aviina sighed and tossed the folded parchment back on the bed. It landed at Grogu's feet, and he looked down at it and narrowed his eyes, as if the paper was the reason Aviina was leaving and not it's contents. He looked back up at her with his impossibly huge eyes and Aviina had to look away to keep from crumbling.
"Look, I appreciate you having my back these past few years. I know I've cause you a lot of trouble, but... I..." Damn it, she thought as she struggled. This is why she'd written the letter.
"You're not leaving," Din finished for her. "You're still recovering from the last time you ran off."
"I'm fine, Din. And I'm more than capable of taking care of myself," she said as she lifted the bag from the bed and slung it over her shoulder. She started for the door but Din moved to block her exit.
"You can't go anywhere with broken ribs and a head injury."
"I'm fine now, look." She lifted her shirt to reveal her ribs to him. It briefly crossed her mind to not be so careless with exposing her skin to him, and wondered why it was so natural to do so. Across her left side where it was once blotched with deep purple was barely flushed now. Though she did shiver when he reached out and pressed his bare fingertips to her ribs, but not in pain. "I don't know how but..." She let her voice trail off as his visor turned to the side. She followed his gaze to find him looking knowingly at Grogu, who blinked up and them in quiet obliviousness.
"Vii," He said impatiently, using a nickname he seldom used. Such a simple, one syllabled plea that racked through Aviina's soul like ice. Once again reminding her why she'd planned to be gone already.
"I can't stay here," she said, trying to keep her voice level. He reached for her, brushing is hand down her arm. Aviina shrunk away from the contact even though every fiber of her soul screamed at her to lean into him. "You and I... we're meant for different things."
"What are you talking about?" he said. He was getting increasingly frustrated, a fact evident as his cool demeanor started to chip away.
"Mandalore is where you belong," she said. "With your people and your creed." He stared silently at her and after a tick Aviina spoke again. "I heard you and Bo Katan yesterday." Her last statement forced a reaction from Din.
"That doesn't have anything to d-"
"Yes it does," she cut him off. "And she's right, Din. I'm not Mandalorian. And I don't belong here." Din shook his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other in aggravation. Before she could think through her actions she leaned forward and pressed her hand to his shoulder, what was meant to be a gesture of comfort brought a tremble to her hand, yet she couldn't pull herself away. "This isn't easy for me," She said quietly.
Din brought his hand to rest over hers, his warmth adhering her skin to his. The gravity of his body pulled at hers, she was losing her grip on her own decision to leave, and his next words almost evaporated what little resolve she had left.
"Then don't go."
Maker, don't to this to me. Aviina could never be described has fragile. Sarcastic, blunt and snarky? Definitely. Tempestuous even. But never fragile. Which is why she found herself dumbfounded at her own urge to cry. She angrily blinked back the tears before they could brim, one of her eyes didn't even work, now they were betraying her by tearing up. Din didn't make things any easier has he rubbed the knuckles of her hand with his thumb, as if he was trying to manually wear her down. She pulled her hand away and let it fall to her side, the heat from his hand seared her skin as she hiked the bag up further on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she said as she brushed past him and bustled out the door. She was almost hoping that he'd move to block her way again, but he didn't and she left.
She only let a single tear fall late that night when she was on the shuttle off Nevarro. Just one salty confession that she let stripe its way down her face, pouring all the unsaid words and actions into it hoping that when she wiped it away the weight deep in her chest would lift. But when she lifted her sleeve and wiped it away, she still found it difficult to breathe.
