Unmasked Love | The Mandalorian

|46|

The dark, ominous feeling that had been looming deep in my chest ever since we had left Nevarro had started to grow in me. Tightly weaving around my already pounding heart, slowly slithering up my spine, and working its way into my head to consume my thoughts completely. I couldn't seem to shake the lingering feeling since it had decided to lock on and cling to me. 

He wasn't dead. 

I could just feel it. 

Something would have shifted in the force if he had really died in that fucking TIE fighter. Something would have changed. Yet, I could still feel him looming and seething through the cold galaxy, slowly coursing through my own veins. It didn't feel right and I couldn't do anything to shake the feeling that had rooted itself deep in my chest. 

I guess you could say that Mando had done a pretty good job of convincing me that everything was perfectly okay and that we could finally have a little break from this whole thing, but the moment he stepped out of the cockpit to take a shower and polish his armor, my mind swirled back down into the dark abyss. 

Something wasn't right, and I just knew it- 

"Anybody in there?"

I suck in a sharp breath as a soft hand gently ruffles my raven hair, moving around a few of my messy waves. I look up to see Mando in a fresh pair of clothes, the day's events washed away from his figure. He slowly sat down in the co-pilot seat, gently nudging the kid before turning and facing in his seat properly. 

"Sorry. I was just lost in thought for a minute there," I apologize, nodding my head while looking away from him. He hums and slowly nods his head, already letting me know that he was going to try and figure out what it was I had been thinking about.

"What were you-"

"How are you feeling? Looks like you're already getting back into shape," I say, cutting him off before he could even ask about the looming darkness in my head. A smile tugs at my lips as he lets out a quiet chuckle, but it soon falters when his laugh turns into a ragged cough. "Do you think I could take a quick look at your head? I'm feeling a little stronger than I was earlier, which means I could probably help heal whatever the bacta spray didn't manage to fix."

"I'm not going to take my helmet off, Mae."

My eyes widen slightly and I quickly realize how I had worded my request. 

"I had no intention of-"

"I can fix it myself. You don't have to worry about me," he mutters, shaking his head while settling further into his padded seat. He was obviously trying to just get away from the subject of his injury and taking off his helmet, but he was doing the best job at it. 

My lungs suck in a long breath, holding it deep in my chest as I tried to find the right words to convince him to just let me help him. I open my mouth to tell him that I had no intention of trying to get him to take his helmet off in front of me when I could see, but he stops me yet again. 

"Don't worry about me," he repeats, nodding his head once. 

"Come on, Din. You already know that's all I do nowadays," I mutter, keeping my brown eyes set on the open galaxy set out in front of us. The stars were shining bright tonight, or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. I let out a deep sigh and bit my bottom lip for a moment. "Knowing you, all you're really going to do is slap a bandage on it, then call it good in hopes that it'll get better on its own. And like I said before, I had no intention of trying to get you to take your helmet off in front of me. I just want to help and make sure you're okay."

"It's not coming off," he says, crossing his arms as if he were actually going to be having the final say in this situation. I mean, of course, he was obviously going to have the final say in this situation, but that doesn't mean I was going to stop trying just because he knocked me down a few pegs. I purse my lips, knowing that I should really just back off and leave it, but me being the stubborn asshole that I am...