𝐜𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐞'𝐬𝐞 - 𝘥𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯

Safety Net

Din's not used to embracing, but something about the feeling of your arms encircling him feels right. The way he returns the gesture is slow but full of certainty. Din wants to let himself enjoy this feeling—to relish in the sensation of his helmet gently resting against your head while he keeps you close—but something else is nagging at him. It's the same thing that stops him every time. Din has never felt worthy of you; not of your kindness, your care, or anything at all. He's never felt worthy of Grogu, either. He's never felt worthy of affection at all.

His lifestyle has hardened him, tainted him, and Din's always been afraid of streaking you and Grogu with the same grime that covers him. The silver of his beskar cries out for his redemption but Din cannot accept it. He sees you smiling and laughing with Grogu and that fire in his chest gets snuffed out by his doubt and remembrance that elsewhere in the galaxy, he's broken up such a family. He's alone with you and lets himself stare longingly at your hand from behind his visor but can't gain the faith to grab it as he remembers the times when he cuffed hands that looked so similar to your own. When he's lying awake at night, listening to the gentle humming of the Crest and drowning in the darkness of his compartment where he can safely take his helmet off and at least try to breathe, Din chastises himself for even wishing that he could have a life that's good and pure with you after he's ruined so many others'.

But, for now, he'll be selfish and let himself enjoy what he has.

Din doesn't know how long it's been since he started to hold you, but he knows he begins to miss it the moment you start to pull away from him. Your gaze is soft yet unsure as you stare at him. Din gives his helmet a shake, only removing his arms from around you to sign to you. "You don't have to go," Din assures you, desperate to get this selfish moment of his to last.

You draw in a breath and Din wonders if you realize how loud it is. He knows it's catching in your throat as you look between his visor and his cuirass a few times, your hands slowly pulling away from him as you sign your response. "You need to rest."

Din's heart softens yet again. Your care for him never seems to end. He wants to return that to you, even if he doesn't know how. Before he can stop himself, Din continues to sign. "I don't want to be alone."

Your gaze softens even more as you nod at him, coming just a bit closer to him as you respond. "Okay." You pause and study him. He can see you glancing at his leather-covered fists as they clench at his sides. "What can I do?"

Din considers your words for a moment, slowly lifting his gloved hands from his sides before he answers you. "Stay with me tonight."

"I would like that."

Din smiles to himself and nods. "I'll wash up first."

You return his nod, looking down as you brush your hand over his and give his fingers a gentle squeeze. Din can feel his heart leap into his throat, the warmth threatening to consume him whole in another affectionate fire as you step away. He watches you make your way up the ladder to the compartment he uses across from the cockpit and takes a deep breath before he steps towards the 'fresher.

Meanwhile, you approach Din's compartment and take a cautious step inside. You've been in here once or twice before when you've had to check in on Din in the aftermath of a bad injury—but this is different, now. Something about this feels so intimate, as if Din's inviting you not only into his room but also into the place underneath his beskar. You start tidying up the place for him to distract yourself from the pit that's growing in your stomach.

It's the feeling that you're not whole enough for him.

Din's never pointed it out and he's never shown a single sign of it being a problem, but still you've continued to feel like a burden. Ever since he first found you the day the baby waddled up to you at the marketplace on Bospello, you've feared he's only taken you in because of his pity for you. Being Deaf in a galaxy of such action has never made you afraid; only anxious at times for miscommunications. You often wonder if Din worries more for your safety than he would have to if you could hear.