Unmasked Love | The Mandalorian

|18|

Well, it turns out the son of a bitch did follow me. 

And to my unfortunate dismay, he forced Cara to step outside so he could just patch me up himself. I take a deep breath as he sits down beside me, resting the bandages in his lap while he takes his bulky gloves off. I keep my brown eyes glued on the open window that was sitting in front of us, not wanting to look at him and his freshly polished helmet. 

"Shirt," he mutters in a low tone, gesturing his hand towards the part of my sleeve that happened to be singed and burnt from the harsh heat of the blaster bolt that had hit me. Regardless of his request, I stay completely still, not wanting to accept his help in any way. 

I felt like I was being ridiculous and I was being unnecessarily cold to him, especially when he probably didn't deserve this sort of attitude from me. It's not like I've ever told him how I actually felt about him and it's not like we're together or anything. 

He doesn't owe me a damn thing. 

He and Omera have every right to be together and it's not my place to have a say in it. Maker, I shouldn't even be acting like this with him, but man, am I still going to be a stonecold bitch to him regardless of what my good self is telling me. 

"For Maker's sake, Mae," he growls, throwing the roll of bandages down onto the bed.

He gets up and kneels down in front of me, his fingers hooking onto my shirt. He quickly pops each button from its place, working each one off with complete ease. He reaches back up and carefully slides the cream-colored cloth off of my shoulders. His large hands nimbly unwrap the old bandages that had been singed by the initial shot. 

"What happened?" he asks, his tone much softer now. He tosses the old bandages to the side, pausing a moment as he awaited my answer. 

"I wasn't paying attention and a bounty hunter snuck up on me," I answer, keeping my reply short. 

He hums in response before he starts to clean my still stinging wound. One of his fingers aggressively prods at it, making me yelp in pain and jolt. I whip my down to his shoulder and squeeze tight, not thinking too hard about my action. He stops moving, subtly tilting his head to the side to look at my hand. I let out a shaky breath, slowly peeling my hand away to set it on the bed next to my leg. 

"Sorry," I mutter, awkwardly clearing my throat. 

"It's fine," he mutters back, grabbing the bandages in one hand while his other hand gently grabbed onto my arm. He stares at my wound for a few moments before looking back up at my face. A heavy sigh filters out past his voice modulator as he slips his hand away from my arm. "I'm not going to be able to wrap it the same way I had done it before. It's too close to your collarbone to do that. I'm gonna have to wrap the bandages over your chest to cover it up properly."

I hum once, not giving him an actual response. Another sigh escapes him as he began the whole process. He carefully wraps the white bandages around my shoulder as well as the upper part of my arm, pulling a little too tight for comfort, but I don't dare say anything to stop him. I'll just fix it later when we have to change the bandages. "What's going through your head right now?"

"Nothing," I lie, a small huff trailing my words. He stops wrapping the thin bandages around my arm, pausing his movements to look right at me. I stare back at him and flash my brows with a sarcastic smile on my lips. He goes back to wrapping and I go back to staring out the window that was set right in front of me. 

Not another word was shared as he continued to work. 

He reaches around my body, his arms practically encasing me as both of his hands carefully guide the roll of white bandages across my upper back. I blush slightly, feeling the sleeve of his shirt graze against the skin of my cheek. He slowly leans back, passing the roll under my arm before stretching the cloth over the top of my chest.