Aviina's face heated as she realized that she was between Din's arms, tucked to his chest. Their bare skin pressed together. It felt so foreign to her, sliding her skin over someone else's. She'd spent the better part of three years physically pushing others away, but now all she wanted was to pull closer. To absorb him into her and him to do the same.
She gently reached up and skimmed her hand over his face, bare in the darkness. She'd never been like this. Never heard him breathing without his helmet. A part of her never thought she would; she didn't think he'd trusted her enough to. A part of her soul warmed at him being so comfortable around her.
Facial hair scratched at her palms and long lashes tickled her fingertips. She savored the feel of his face, memorizing it by touch and painting a mental picture in her mind. Dark wavy hair and brown eyes. Gentle sloped nose and sharp jaw with full lips. Handsome, kind-featured and lovely. It would be too easy to flip on the light and see him. She doubted he would even stir. She told herself it couldn't hurt him if he didn't know. But then suddenly she felt immense guilt at even the thought. He trusted her not to look.
It was dark outside (not that it meant anything timewise) and Aviina guessed it was sometime in the evening. Lars Kawldron would be at the cantina soon, and she had to be there to collect him. But her body wanted her to stay. To stay here where it was safe and warm and comfortable. Especially with how sore and stiff she was. But Aviina was nothing if not determined. She stretched her arms above her head and winced at the pain in her shoulders.
Din sighed and Aviina thought that he was just dreaming. But then his hand slid from her waist up her back and tangled in the hair at her neck, bringing her forehead to rest against his as he fanned his warm breath across her lips.
"Hello," he said in his gravely post-sleep voice.
"Hello," she whispered, her throat still tender.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asked as his fingers tugged gently on her scalp, sending shivers across her skin.
"I should be asking you that." She slipped her hand down to his side, resting it gently on his ribs.
"I've definitely been better," he said, and though she couldn't see him, she wondered if he was smiling.
Aviina sighed. Din's fingers ghosted over her throat, then up to the cut along her lip, then the one cresting her cheekbone. He touched her like he was reading her wounds like Braille, learning with his fingertips. A sound escaped his lips, so quiet that had he been wearing his helmet she wouldn't have heard it. It was a soft huff or maybe a low growl. A possessive sound, not unlike the sounds a Mudhorn makes when protecting its den.
He leaned in, brushing his nose against hers. She froze and waited on bated breath for him to move forward— to kiss her. But he didn't. He stayed there, less than an inch away from her mouth.
He's waiting for you, she realized. He wanted her to kiss him. Wanted her to press into him the way he did her. To reciprocate. Her heart was beating so hard she knew he must be able to hear it. It's not that she didn't want to, but something was tugging her backward. Like a small itch at the base of her brain that told her not to. He moved again, he didn't press forward but he brushed his hand over her hair and pushed her waves out of her face. A gentle reminder that he was waiting for her.
"I have to go," She said. Her face heated at her lack of grace.
Din paused. His muscles went rigid for a moment before he pulled away completely. Disconnecting from her physically. When his skin left hers, a physical draft blew over her skin, making her acutely aware of how bare she was wearing nothing but her under-things. She felt the shift of him sitting up in bed, but he made no move to turn on the light nor did she hear the seal of his helmet.
