"I missed you," she whispered in the dark. She reached for him, pressing her fingertips into his palm. He curled his hand around hers as his other hand brushed over her hair. His gloves were off and the brown tendrils were soft just like he'd imagined. She looked up at him with her round eyes that sparkled in the low light.
"I missed you," he repeated. His voice sounded different. Her hands came up and cupped his bare face and that's when he realized; he wasn't wearing his helmet. He knew he should care, but he couldn't bring himself to wish that he'd never felt her hands on him. He pressed against her, tangling his bare hands in her hair and sighing when she smiled.
He tilted her face up to him and took her in. She was just as he remembered; tall and strong with her perfectly gapped smile and myriad of freckles. The scar that covered her eye was nearly invisible in the dim light but he didn't see it as a blemish or imperfection. How could he think anything about her was imperfect? It was her. He thumbed where the scar ended on her cheek before letting his thumb fall to her lips. He pressed gently at her bottom lip and stared at it. Her hands slid from his face to his neck where she knitted her fingers into the locks at the base of his skull. She moved into him, pressing her chest to his and still seeking more. She pushed up on her toes and brushed her mouth to his causing an exhilarating rush of energy. He breathed in what she exhaled, running one of his hands over the steady thrumming of her pulse. It wasn't a full kiss, but a delicate press of just her bottom lip to his. He could only feel it if he concentrated hard enough. He wanted more, he wanted everything she was willing to give him. He was leaning down, pulling her up to meet him—
"Hey Mando, you okay?" the bartender asked, effectively ripping Din out of his dream.
He snapped his head up from where it rested against his gloved fist. He had dozed off at the bar. He wasn't with Aviina; he wasn't helmet-less and running his hands over her hair; he wasn't breathing her in like an intoxicating vapor. He was sitting at the Carajam cantina bar where he'd been stupid enough to fall asleep. He cursed at himself and angled his visor at the bartender who stared at him awkwardly.
"I'm fine," he snapped. "Do you have the information I asked for or not?"
The bartender recoiled like a flame had burned her. He knew it was unnecessary to snap at her, she wasn't the one he was angry with. He was. He'd let his guard down, something that he'd made a particular effort not to do. But between worrying when Aviina went hunting after Varlo Keene, going after her when she'd been captured for killing Varlo Keene and traversing planet after planet now to find her again, he hadn't gotten more than a handful of hours of sleep in the last five weeks.
"Like I told you, I just got here an hour ago and the bartender who was working before me doesn't want to talk to you," she said, fiddling with her fingers, expecting him to be irate no doubt.
He hummed, shifting his weight to his forearm. There was just as much information in what someone doesn't say as what they do. The bartender who was refusing to answer his questions about a tall brunette woman with a scarred, blind, eye told him he was on the right track.
"Thanks for asking," he grumbled to the bartender as he pushed himself up from the bar.
The bartender looked equal parts relieved and surprised. He didn't bother to say anything else as he stepped out of the nearly empty cantina and out into the warm night air. On the dark streets of the gritty, dusty planet, the neon glow of signs reflected off his visor. The air was filled with a mix of whispered alien languages from shadowy groups and the hum of speeders in the distance. Din took a moment to recalibrate his focus, reminding himself of the task at hand. Aviina was here, he knew she was.
