Stowaway | A Mandalorian Love Story | Din Djarin x OC

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Morning After

Suggested Listening:
Definitely Unexpected - Hans Zimmer (from The Holiday) | ...a new day
Anna and Albert - Joel McNeely (from A Million Ways to Die in the West)Kissing You - Craig Armstrong (from Romeo+Juliet) | ...where to next? {Shoutout to BEX1981 for reminding me about this one!}
Anna and Albert - Joel McNeely (from A Million Ways to Die in the West) | ...can we have a day? {My go to theme for these two <3}

I woke slowly and gently, drifting out of a dream that I instantly forgot, but knew it was a good one. Eyes still closed, I groped around next to me, feeling the empty bed. When my hand landed on something unrecognizable, I pried open my eyes and saw that I was clutching the blindfold from the night before. An involuntary smile crept across my lips as I rolled onto my back and looked around the cabin. A beam of morning light was streaming through the porthole, illuminating the debris from the evening's events — though notably more organized than I remembered them being. My clothes were draped carefully over the foot bars of the bed, and Din's armor — and helmet — were nowhere to be seen.

I wondered for a moment if I had imagined the whole thing. But then physical remembrances of the night, memories of his soft, breathless voice as he murmured my chosen name, his lips pressed up against my ear, his fingers laced tightly with mine, pinning my hand above my head with tender yet dominant force... I writhed in pleasure and covered my grinning face with my arm, my body responding involuntarily to the memory.

But what did that mean for us now? What would we be to each other now that the barriers had been crossed, the fantasies made real?

Only one way to find out...

I dressed and treaded quietly to the cockpit. Din was under the dash, his hands nimbly working on a mess of cables hanging down from an open metal pane. He was fully armored again, but having touched him with my own hands, literally feeling his humanity for myself, I found his armored figure to look a little different. More rich, more rounded — like I could see him properly, now. Like he had come into focus.

"It's a sad state of affairs if you have to hotwire your own ship," I said, leaning against the doorway.

His head snapped up, and the top of his helmet made loud contact with the base of the dash.

"Sorry," I laughed, covering my mouth.

He ducked his head out from under the dash and leaned forward onto his knees, rubbing the top of his helmet. He chuckled, softly.

"Good morning."

"Hi," I replied, smiling.

"I was just trying to fix, um —" he said, standing. "The static on the radar, it's been driving me nuts for weeks."

We looked at each other across the cockpit, and for a moment, I held my breath. Maybe he regrets it, I thought to myself, fearfully. Maybe everything is weird and uncomfortable and spoiled now.

"I didn't want to wake you," he continued. "I wanted you to get to sleep."

"Thanks," I said.

After a brief hesitation, he walked over to me and pulled his glove off, touching his fingertips to my chin and gently turning my head to examine what I assumed were bruises on my neck.

"Is it bad?" I asked with a chuckle, trying to keep it light.

I heard a hiss of exhale through his nose. He was angry at the sight.

"It looks like it hurts," he murmured, his hand gently cupping my face and his thumb carefully running under the line of my black eye.

"It does," I admitted. "But... I'm okay."