HEAVY IN YOUR ARMS [A DIN DJARIN X READER STORY]

CHAPTER SIX: THE BALCONY

When you woke up, the sun wasn't as warm as it usually was. You stretched on your bed, staring out the open curtains, eyes on the trees. The tips of the leaves were yellow. A sign of the change of the season. You sat up and smiled. You'd never been happier to see the summer end and the autumn begin. You had a feeling autumn would match Din better.

There wasn't a dress picked out for you when you woke up, so you chose your own gown. It was a light brown with lace sleeves and a swooped neckline that complimented you well. You left your hair down, fluffing it out with your hands. Your smile was absurd, and you tried to smother it with the palms of your hands, reminding yourself that any ounce of happiness was suspicious.

But he made you happy.

He made you happy.

He knocked on your door, and you practically ran to answer it. You were still smiling, and he was there, one arm leaning against the frame of your door, the other rested on his holster. He tilted his head to the side when he saw you. "You look happy this morning."

"Is it that obvious?" you asked.

"You're smiling," he said, the hand on his holster moving to point at your lips.

"I know," you said, pushing your hands against your cheeks. "I don't think I can help it."

He laughed, and the sound was so wonderful.

"Okay, hang on. Let me compose myself." You shut your eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to think of unhappy things, like breakfast with your father and dinner with your father and these grey palace walls. But Din was there in every thought, sitting next to you, walking beside you, always in your peripheral vision. Your lips spread into a grin and you ducked your head in defeat.

"I don't think it's working," he said.

"No, I don't think so," you replied. "I am trying."

He shook his head. "What's got you so happy?"

You stared at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You do."

"I do?"

You supposed your excitement probably didn't match his. Maybe he wasn't thinking at all what you were thinking. There was a chance he still saw you as the princess he was paid to protect and nothing more. You had hoped not, but now you were closing in on yourself, smothering your smile with dark thoughts of being left behind by someone else, of overthinking the happiness he brought you, of making him out to be something that he wasn't: a friend. Embarrassed now, you looked away and sighed. "Yes."

"Hey," he said, and his hand cupped your chin for the quickest moment, tilting your face towards his. His hand disappeared quickly, so fast that it didn't feel like it really happened. "It's nice to see you smile."

Then you were doing it again, grinning like the happiest girl in the galaxy.

You tried your best to hide the smile when you went to the dining room. You greeted your father quickly and took your seat, thanking the servants as they filled your plate. Breakfast passed and your father bragged about his recent successes, the praises from one of his most admired leaders, and you pretended to be proud of your father so that he would let you and Din go.

The rest of the day was pure bliss. You started with a long walk in the palace. After you walked for a long while, you rested by the balcony again. Din sat against the rail of the balcony, one arm resting on his raised knee, his other leg stretched out, laying on top of the pooled skirt of your light brown gown. He blended with you this way, the neutral colors of your outfit and his combining. You spoke softly, your hair blowing gently in the breeze, catching the rays of sunshine that were bringing the warm hues of the leaves out of the green. Stories of make-believe in the palace and stories of family members from long ago spilled out into the air with ease. And then he asked you about yourself, about your favorite foods, favorite drinks, favorite hobbies.

"What about your favorite color?" he asked you.

You squinted against the sunshine. "Um. I don't know. I have a few."

"You can only have one."

"I can't pick just one," you said, smiling. "Really, I can't. Evergreen, warm brown, gold, red-orange. I love them all."

"Why those colors?"

You nodded out to the outside, where trees were dusted with bits of yellow, red, and orange just on the tips, but enough to make it visible. Enough to make it beautiful. "Look at all of that. Isn't it so pretty?"

Din turned his head. "It's nice."

"I love this time of year," you said. You shut your eyes and tipped your head back, feeling the sunshine spread across your face. "It's warm but it's beautiful. You know, I've never been able to talk like this to anyone before. Well, not ever before." You opened your eyes and shifted on your knees, straightening your skirt. "My mother and I had our fair share of conversations about pretty things. And my brother and I shared everything. Stories, wishes, fears." You turned your head and looked at him, and he was looking at you the same way he had been quite often nowadays. "But it's been a long time since I've really had someone that chose to listen."

He was silent, but you were aware of his hand that was in the space between his leg and your knee. The back of his hand was against your skirt, his palm opened slightly, as if he were inviting you in. You stretched your arm across the pool of light-brown fabric and placed your hand in his. He didn't pull away.

"What's your favorite color?" you asked.

"Hm," he hummed, and he sat up and let his other gloved hand run up the length of the lace sleeve of your shoulder. "Light-brown."

You cracked a smile.

"But you should ask me again tomorrow," he said, "because last night, it was blue."

"I'll ask every day," you promised, and you slowly moved your legs out from underneath you and shifted over a space closer to him. Your shoulder was pressed against his, his hand still wrapped around yours, and you looked at the visor of his helmet for a long time.

When evening came, you and Din moved unwillingly from the balcony. In the privacy of the hallways, where there were no eyes, you discretely held hands. You never wanted to let him go, you decided. You didn't care if the two of you were in danger. It was foolish and you knew it, but your heart was selfish and so you decided to just be selfish. You loved the way he felt --- safe and warm. You loved how he made you smile. How he said your name. How he trusted you with his. There were so many things about him that you loved, and you were unable to see anything except for him. Selfishly, you decided to keep him.

His fingers slipped from yours as you neared the dining area, but you weren't sad because he was laughing with you, the sounds of both of you blending together so beautifully that your mind was dazzled.

And then the bubbling happiness faded, because you stepped into the dining room and saw your father and Vinor Thriff seated already, preparing for a meeting and a dinner with the Mandalorian. You'd completely forgotten, and now you were frozen in terror. The joy was sucked out of you with a single exhale from your tight chest. You had no choice but to go through this moment, this horrible moment with two horrible men that you didn't want to spend all evening with.

"We were beginning to think you'd never show up," your father laughed. "Come, Mandalorian! It's time for our long-awaited meeting."