PURPOSE | The Mandalorian

VIII

I started to laugh again. When I finished, I was still looking at the visor of his helmet. Keeping a soft smile on my face, I asked, "What are you thinking about?"

After a moment, he hummed thoughtfully. "I'm trying not to think about how many ways tomorrow could go wrong," He admitted.

My smile faltered a little. I glanced down to where his fingers were nervously fidgeting with his gloves in his lap. Letting my hand brush against the bare skin of his fingers, I took the gloves out of his hands and placed them on my other side. Then I took one of his hands in my own, brushing my fingers over the back of his hand.

"It's just some raiders, Din," I said softly in an attempt to calm him. "We can handle it."

He watched my fingers began to draw circles in his palm. He exhaled a shaky breath. "I know, it's just... There's the AT-ST, and the villagers..." He trailed off, his mind going somewhere far away.

"Don't think about it." I traced the lines in his palm. "Try and think about something else."

"Like what?" He breathed, slowly leaning into my touch.

I shrugged. "You can ask me what I'm thinking."

His chest rose and fell slowly. "What are you thinking?" He asked eventually.

My tongue slowly flicked over my bottom lip. "I'm thinking..." I began, letting the truth start to fall from my lips. "I'm thinking about how I wish I could see your face."

I heard Din's breath catch under his helmet. "Jeyna." He said my name so softly it made my chest ache. "I-"

"I know," I said, cutting him off. I knew he wouldn't take it off unless someone ripped it from his cold corpse. That didn't mean I wanted to see if his face was sweet and handsome or sharp and granite-hewn.

When Din didn't say anything, I continued, "I don't expect you to take it off. I don't want you to break your Creed. But I just..." I shrugged, "It's very selfish of me, but you get to see my face. I want to see yours."

I lifted my head to look at him again, and he was still staring at my face. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Or maybe he was taking in what I looked like now and comparing it to how I looked when I was younger.

After a minute or two, he finally whispered, "You look a lot different now than you did back then."

I huffed a laugh out my nose. "How so?"

"Well, for starters, you grew your hair out."

I laughed harder. He continued, "I never noticed the red in your hair, either. And you lost your baby face."

My smile fell when he said that. He noticed and quickly corrected, "What I meant was..." He lifted his other hand to my face, brushing his thumb across my cheek, "You have very nice cheekbones."

"Mhm," I hummed as he skimmed my cheekbone once more before dropping his hand from my face. My skin tingled where his fingers had touched my face. "Anything else?"

He glanced down to the hand that I still held in my own. "Your eyes," He said softly, "They're darker now."

He paused, seeming to consider his next words. Then he said, "But that may just be my helmet playing tricks on me."

"It's not," I confirmed for him, "They are darker than they used to be." I turned his hand over in mine once more, drawing lazy circles on the back of his hand again. Then his own fingers curled around mine.

"One day," He said.

My brows creased at him. "What?"

He inhaled sharply, looking back at my face before he said, "I'll show you."