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#4. OF SAINTS AND SINNERS
[ EXTRA SCENE ]
( —It's domestic Myralorian fluff, y'all. that's it. just sweet, funny and heartful softness.)
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Din Djarin had always thought that if Myra ever experienced laughter of any sort, it would only be with him. For him, because of him and only him. It was selfish to think that way but, it bothered him more than he liked to admit.
Sometimes, Myra made her affection seem cloying. The way she flashed a pearlie-white smile for everything, the way she played ecstatically among the children of the village as if she had never seen young ones before, or even worse, disappeared for hours till the end without warning.
Kids were fine, really.
More than fine; they were perfect company for her. Blend innocence with naiveté, it was an amalgam of the galaxy's perfect solvent and solute. But anyone other than himself?
It was as if his innards had caught fire. Heat sat deep in his guts, broiling and catching a fever as he regarded the feeling of jealousy in the blink of an eye.
Din knew it was crazy to consider that he owned Myra. Oh, he wished he did. Possessive of her, stigmatizing if anyone besides him tried to touch her; he just didn't know how to handle the fascination. He wanted to hurl something at them, yell at them about her number one, most absolute rule—don't touch her without his permission.
Her permission, he grumbled in a correction. No one cares about your opinion anymore. Not after what you did.
It was quite evident—Myra was driving him insane. He could neither find her nor talk to her. For days, the duo had been indulged in the game of cat-and-mouse, nothing as enjoyable as it sounded.
