Star Wars Rebels: Hera & Kanan

Chapter Twenty-One

Hera yawned as she headed towards the galley in pursuit of her morning caf. She had not gotten much sleep the night before; unlike the two men currently snoring blissfully away on her ship, she hadn't been smashed on Old Jho's Fogblasters when she went to bed. Instead, thanks to Kanan, she'd been wide awake, and once again trying to get a handle on her feelings. She'd mostly failed.

Seeing Kanan again had been a shock, of course. But more shocking was the fact that she couldn't seem to hold onto her anger about it. She didn't want him to know it, but she'd missed him terribly, and was so happy and relieved to see him in one piece that she found she didn't care about the rest of it as much as her pride demanded. Still, he'd hurt her deeply by leaving, regardless of the reasoning behind it. Part of her wanted him to know and acknowledge it- she wanted him to feel guilty for what he'd done, and she wanted an apology. The other part of her balked at all of it. Admitting she cared meant...well, it meant admitting she cared.

But hadn't she admitted that when she kissed him? Her head swam. There was no way around it- they needed to talk. She just had no idea what she was going to say.

At the entrance to the common room, she stopped, pulled up short by the sight of Kanan sitting at the Dejarik table. Make that only one man snoring blissfully away, then. He sat with his arms splayed out across the back of the bench and his head tipped back, eyes closed. His hair was loose for some reason- he hardly ever wore it that way. She couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, so she stepped as lightly as possible towards the galley.

"Hera," he said, not opening his eyes. She'd missed hearing his voice, especially the particular timbre he seemed to use only when saying her name- soft, low, deep, and full of tenderness. It was amazing, really, that he could get all of that into one small word.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You didn't. I was waiting for you." He raised his head and opened his eyes. His left eye, the one she'd punched, was swollen and bruised. The dark purple color made his eyes look more green than blue.

"It looks pretty rough," she said, indicating her own left eye. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. Like you said, I deserved it," he smiled ruefully at her.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's more like a dull throb. I've had a lot worse."

She gave him a tight smile. She felt vulnerable and anxious, and she didn't like it. What was it about him that threw her so off-balance? "I know you have. Mind if I sit?"

"'Course not. The closer, the better."

"Same Kanan," she said, settling down onto the bench about arm's length away from him. Pretty close, by their standards.

"Not exactly the same Kanan, no. And not the same Hera, I think, either," he said, studying her face.

She thought she'd been doing a pretty good job of playing it cool, but evidently that sort of thing no longer worked on him. Disconcerted by this turn of events, she ignored his comment. "We should talk," she said. "Preferably while Nash is still unconscious."

He pushed his hair back with one hand, which was distracting. She forced herself to focus.

"Yeah, we should," he said. "Apparently, we're both idiots."

She rolled her eyes. "Nash is an idiot; you should take everything he says with a whole crate full of salt."

Kanan shrugged. "He makes some good points."

"Occasionally," she agreed.

"Listen, Hera...I'm sorry that I left the way I did. It was...a mistake," he said, avoiding her gaze. "But the incident on Nar Shaddaa-"