𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 - DIN DJARIN

Peace (Interlude)

peace (interlude) •••

You blink into the darkness, the emptiness of your grasp causing a chill to run through you. You tighten the material of Din's tunic around you and lift your head from the burrow of blankets you had made during your slumber. Once your eyes adjust to the darkness, you find the outline of Din on the edge of the bed, his back facing you as he works on something in front of him.

With a silent yawn, you turn your attention to the nearest chrono. He's up well before Nevarro's sunrise. This isn't the first time it's happened, nor will it be the last. You're simply grateful you've woken up at the proper time to be with him and his tumultuous thoughts.

You debate remaining where you are for the sake of Din's guilty conscience, but your desire to comfort him wins out. You ease yourself out of the blankets and crawl over to Din until you're right behind him. Your hands gently glide along his warm skin as they wrap around his bare torso. You press your lips against the heat of his shoulder, the same way you used to on Sorgan when he was wrestling with the weight of giving your son away.

Din's chest rises and falls in a breath of relief that makes your lips curve into a smile against his skin. Your eyes somehow manage to make out what Din's doing with his trembling hands, and you close your eyes to push away the painful sympathy that floods you when you recognize your blood-stained flight suit being repaired by a needle and thread.

After a few more gentle kisses and moments of silence, you rest your chin upon Din's shoulder and smile. "Jate vaar'tur, my love." Your voice is no louder than a soft whisper as you speak. Good morning.

Din looks away from what he's working on to face you. The knit in his brow loosens, and even in the darkness of the room, his gaze sparkles at the sight of you. "Hey." Din's voice is just as soft as yours, and he leans close enough to you for a kiss that takes your breath away. His nose brushes against yours as he pulls away, his forehead resting against you the best he can manage in this position. Din's eyes remain closed. "You should go back to sleep."

You hum as if you're truly considering the idea. "I don't know." You squeeze his torso with your arms still wrapped tight around him. "I feel pretty awake right now."

Din huffs, and you're at least glad he doesn't have to feign his amusement as he turns back to what's in his hands. You do the same, your thumbs running soothing circles over Din's toned middle. From what you can manage to see in the room's darkness, Din's done a hell of a job with the fabric, though many stitches still remain before the hole caused by Gideon's guard will fully be closed.

"I can't believe how well you can sew in the dark." You reward him with a series of soft kisses against the side of his neck, causing him to lean into you. "That's better than what I can do in the light."

Din's chest rumbles with a genuine chuckle as he shakes his head at you. "I highly doubt that, rid'ika." He lifts his left hand for you to see, and when you squint your eyes, you can make out the small spots of crusted-over blood on his fingers from the needle. "See? Battle wounds."

"Battle wounds I'd like to take care of." You pull your arms back to your sides, letting your fingernails gently rake over his skin as you do so. "C'mon. Let's put some caf on."

It's only when you stand and ease your hands over his to take the fabric away from Din that he begins to follow you. You take him by the hand and lead him out of your bedroom, flickering on one of the warm kitchen lights to brighten up the space. You only release Din's hand when you prepare the caf, though you're well aware of his gaze burning through you from behind. He won't take his eyes off you for a long time. He wants to watch you exist, to watch you breathe.