𝙰𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚜 | 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗

✿.｡.:*☆..ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟞..☆*:.｡.✿

✿.｡.:*☆..𝔹𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕥..☆*:.｡.✿

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the parted curtains, a soft glow of sunlight bathed the room, revealing Mando sprawled amidst disheveled sheets. The warmth of the morning kissed his bare skin, stirring him from a deep slumber, but as consciousness slowly returned, a sense of unease began to gnaw at his awakening mind.

Sunlight.

He could feel sunlight.

Feel it as though his skin wasn't being protected by the coldness of his beskar. Feel it through the sheets that draped the entirety of his body, including his head.

He jolted up, his stomach leaving the mattress as one of his hands pushed the sheet from his head. He looked around as sleep left his body and panic flooded his veins.

He'd slept through the night.

Slept even though he told himself he wouldn't stay; he would leave before the sun came up.

He would leave before it became a race to hide his face from...

Rosalie.

Shit.

With bleary eyes, he blinked away the remnants of sleep, his gaze flickering around the room. It took a moment for his surroundings to come into focus, and as he became aware of his nakedness, a wave of panic surged through his veins again. A jumble of fragmented memories flooded his mind, piecing together fragments of a night that had slipped beyond his control.

He hadn't imagined it; he hadn't dreamt it.

His thoughts were confirmed when he spied his naked form under the thin sheet a second time. He looked to the other side of the bed, crumpled but void of the woman he had made his the night before.

The sunlight, once a comforting presence, now felt harsh and exposing. It accentuated every flaw, every vulnerability, magnifying the unease that had settled within his being.

In the silence of the room, the weight of his actions pressed upon him like a heavy burden. Regret swelled within his chest, intertwining with anxiety and the fear of the unknown. He attempted to retrace his steps, desperately seeking answers amidst the haze of recollection.

Each corner of the room seemed to hold secrets, the walls closing in on him as he grappled with his emotions. The air grew heavy, stifling his breath, as his heart raced with trepidation. What had transpired during the night? Who had he become, stripped of inhibitions and left vulnerable in the aftermath?

He didn't know how to feel about it. Didn't know if he should think about it. Mando opted for the latter and pulled himself from the bed.

Any evidence that she stayed here last night was gone, even that damned droid.

With the same trembling hands that he had witnessed last night, he reached for his scattered clothing, fumbling to piece together the remnants of modesty. Each garment served as a shield against his own uncertainty, a feeble attempt to regain some semblance of control over a situation that had spiralled out of reach.

Seeking solace and a momentary reprieve from the overwhelming emotions, he decided to seek comfort in the cleansing embrace of a shower to wash away the sweat of last night. With arms full of his clothing, he took cautious steps and left the room behind, his bare feet whispering against the cool tiles beneath.

The bathroom welcomed him with a soft aura of tranquillity, a sanctuary where water held the power to wash away both physical and emotional stains. As he turned on the faucet, the gentle patter of droplets filled the air, a symphony of renewal and release.