𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 - DIN DJARIN

Chapter 8: The Ruin

chapter 8: the ruin •••

The next few weeks were some of the best you or Din had experienced in much too long. You'd stayed in the village with the farmers, enjoying the peace and comfort of not having to be on the run or in fear of a looming threat. You both could play with the child, sip on spotchka, spend nights by the fire, and do whatever else you wanted. You were both glad that Cara also stuck around, and you got to know her very well. It was like a dream.

You'd also become even closer to each other than you had before. At this point, it's become quite obvious that you're both starting to have real feelings for each other. Your gazes linger much longer than necessary, your cots are kept close together even though neither one of you are experiencing nightmares, and many nights are spent just talking about life—the past and the future. There's an evident connection between the two of you, an unspoken but prominent bond, and it can be felt by anyone who's around you—or, so, Cara claims.

If there's one thing that Din could choose to never forget, it'd be one of those nights by the fire. Everyone else had already retired for the evening, including Cara, so it was just you and Din left. The stars were shining above so brilliantly, and Din watched the reflection of them in your eyes as you looked at them. You were having one of those conversations about life, and you'd almost made it a type of game, where you shared one thing you loved from your past and one thing you wanted for your future, after your run with the child was over—if it ever was.

"You've been quiet for a while," Din had observed, tilting his head as he continued admiring your thoughtful gaze. You'd both already shared about your pasts for the night, and he was waiting on what you were to say about the future.

"I'm just thinking," you had answered, a small smile stuck to your lips as you spoke. Your eyes never left the night sky. "I think I have one, but I'm not sure if it's the future."

Din felt curiosity flood through him, and so he urged you forward. "It's alright."

You released a deep breath. "This is something I've always wanted," you had started, your voice gentle as the fire continued to crackle and almost drowned you out. "Ever since Arilia was destroyed." You cleared your throat, your eyes finally looking back to Din. "I've always wanted a home."

Din kept his head tilted at you. "A home?"

You nodded. "I wanted something I could finally call home again, with—you know—that sense of belonging."

Din had nodded at you. "I understand completely."

You'd looked at him with such compassion in that moment. "Have you always wanted one, too?"

He'd paused for a moment—but then he'd nodded. That description of home sounded nice to him. It sounded like the thing he'd been missing, and he never even knew it. "But why wouldn't that fit into your future?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. I just... I can't help feeling that it..." You'd paused for a moment, still looking at Din, "... that it might just not be what I expected."

Din tilted his head at you again, feeling his heart build up with sympathy and shared feelings. "Well, I hope you find it soon—and that when you do, it's everything you wished it would be."

You'd smiled at him so sweetly, never breaking your gaze at him. "You too, Din."

Din thinks of this memory as he rests against the outside of the hut, looking out at the village as he stands there. Cara sits near him, her feet propped up as she sips on a fresh cup of spotchka. She looks over at Din, seeing him look particularly at the image of you playing with the child and the other children of the village. Though his face is hidden from her, Din knows she can sense exactly what he looks like under his helmet.