𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 • din djarin

Chapter 7: Painful Truths

chapter 7: painful truths •••

"They know."

Drinna furrows her brow at your words. You glance at her while you set out the jars of medicines, hoping the simple task along with your disclosure of this knowledge to Drinna will ease your anxiety. "What do ya' mean, honey?" Drinna asks, seeking clarification.

"My parents." You stop what you're doing, looking at her with concerned eyes. "They know."

Drinna's gaze fills with realization. "Ah." She offers a sympathetic expression that she maintains even when you go back to your busy work. "Well, hon, ya' knew it was gonna be a matter of when, not if. You two ain't the most subtle."

You chuckle at that with a shrug of your shoulders. "Yeah, I mean... I should've been more careful, I guess."

"What did they say? Do ya' know how they found out?"

You don't answer right away, instead finishing your organization of the jars and pushing the hovercart further behind the stall. With a sigh, you sit down, facing Drinna as you begin to fill her in. "I was with Din this weekend, but while we were spending time together, there was an incident." You don't elaborate, deeming it unnecessary to give Drinna a panic attack over something that healed quickly. "Din had to take me to his home and I... ended up having to stay the night." You rush on the last few words, knowing exactly what Drinna will be concluding from such a statement.

"Stayed the night?" Drinna echoes with a suggestive raise of her brow.

"It wasn't like that, Drinna." You roll your eyes and force a chuckle out. "We were with his family." You sigh, looking down at your fingers as they begin to fidget with each other. "When I got home, I told my parents that I was with you, but they claimed that they had already seen me with Din when he dropped me off at home."

Drinna's expression has since morphed into concern. "Oh, darlin'... what did they say?"

"That might be what worries me the most." You look at her with sheer confusion. "They said they want to meet him."

Drinna raises an eyebrow. "They weren't mad?"

"Not from what I could tell." You start to run your hands over your thighs as you release a deep breath. "That's why I'm so worried. You know how they feel about me being with someone before the move."

"I do." Drinna scoots to the edge of her chair, reaching out far enough to take a hold of your wrist. She urges your hand to lift from your thigh and takes it in her gentle grasp. "But maybe, just maybe, even they can see how happy you are with him—and they want to keep ya' like that."

You shake your head, wanting to smile at Drinna's words but finding yourself unable to. "It just sounds way too good to be true, Drinna."

Drinna's gaze softens at you as she squeezes your hand. "I understand, honey." Her warm voice is full of wisdom as she continues. "I know it ain't easy, but maybe this one time, darlin', you should trust 'em."

"You're right. I just..." you pause, shaking your head again as you try to remember any of the few good memories you have with your parents, "I'm afraid to."

"Again, hon, I understand." Drinna squeezes your hand once more and starts to lean away. "That's why you can come to me if anythin' goes wrong."

You smile as you nod. "Thank you, Drinna."

She returns your smile, reluctant to pull her attention away from you when a customer steps up to her stall. You get one yourself just a moment later. Afterwards, there's a flow of customers steady enough for you to be properly distracted from your worries for a while. By the time you're even able to have a full moment to yourself, your break for second meal has arrived—something you realize when you see a much-needed person approaching your stall.

"Din," you breathe his name loud enough for him to hear. You're out of the chair so fast you can hear it rattling against the ground as you close the distance between the two of you. Though it hasn't been long since you've last seen Din, spending so much time with him in the covert has taught you that even a single moment spent away from him feels like a lifetime—especially in the midst of your current worries. You indulge in the feeling of his presence, colliding into him as you wrap your arms around his middle and rest your cheek upon his chest. Din falls back a step in surprise of your eager grasp, though he hastens to recover as he embraces you back. His hand is gentle upon the back of your head as he speaks to you with a soft voice.

"Cyar'ika, ner kar'ta." Hearing the familiar endearments roll off his tongue is as sweet as the sunshine upon your back, even amidst your concerns. "Is something wrong? You seem... afraid."

You shouldn't be surprised at the way Din already knows you too well. Still, the gentle way in which he approaches it helps you to feel more and more at ease. You relax into his figure as you answer. "My parents found out about us, Din."

You can feel his body tense at your words—but the sensation only lasts for a moment. Din pulls you closer before he responds. "Are they upset?"

"No." With a deep breath, you lift your head from his chest, meeting his expression of concern. "They—well, they want to meet you."

Din's brow lifts as his brown eyes sparkle with hope. "Really?"

You nod. "Really." When you don't share his excitement, Din's expression starts to fall again. "I know it sounds good, but... Din, I don't know. I'm worried. They shouldn't be eager about this."

Din's gaze looks away from you for a moment, as if he's contemplating your words. His jaw clenches before he looks at you again. "Do you think it's possible they could've changed their minds? Maybe... maybe they're happy you're happy."

"That's what I said!" Drinna chips in, causing you to take a step away from Din as you turn around to face her. She's fanning herself with one of her own creations, her feet kicked up on her stall as she nods at Din. "I really think it's worth a shot, honey. What's the worst that could happen?"

You want to shiver at the thought. Though your parents have had yet to be openly cruel to you, they've seemed distant as of late—too distant. You wonder if their knowledge of your relationship is their breaking point and now they're going to make you suffer for it.

You're just being paranoid, you tell yourself, pasting on a small smile as you look at Din again. "She's right. If you're okay with it, then so am I."

One of Din's hands lifts to cup your cheek, his gaze searching yours intently. "Are you sure, cyar'ika?"

You nod, smiling wider as you cover his hand with yours. "What could go wrong as long as you're by my side?"

Din returns your smile upon hearing that, mumbling an agreement against your forehead as he kisses it. He then leads you off to second meal, taking you to your usual place on the hill. You make your plans for the evening, both of you wanting to get the meeting with your parents done as soon as possible. Though you've been trying your best to hide it, you know your worry is still obvious. Din does his best to ease your mind, kissing the wrinkle between your brows and kissing your lips until they ache and smile as wide as they can manage. By the time Din's dropping you off at your stall again, you find yourself feeling much more relaxed about the upcoming evening, especially at the idea of getting to see him again.

When Din returns to help you clean up your stall and escort you home, you can tell he's wearing his best clothes. You grin at the sight of him, making your fond admiration of him obvious as he steps up to you.

"Well, don't you look handsome," you say, smiling more when Din's cheeks flush pink. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

Din shakes his head as he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. "That's quite the compliment coming from someone who looks like you."

You pull your hand away in your own embarrassment, biting back your smile when you hear Din laugh. "All right, hotshot, we have to be quick. We wouldn't want to get back to the house later than expected."

Din nods, an expression of severity falling over him as he prepares himself for the evening ahead. You grimace at the idea of Din being nervous. He's silent as he helps you stock the boxes up and then pushes the hovercart for you. Din takes care of the heavy lifting in the store as you stand by, crossing your arms and watching him with a furrowed brow. When he finally walks back over to him, you reach for his hand, keeping it tight in yours as you head home.

"Din," you begin, squeezing his hand to catch his attention. "My parents' opinions of you don't matter. You do know that, right?"

Din ponders your words for a long moment. While he thinks, he swings your hands between the two of you, an action so adorable that you have to bite back a smile. Din shrugs and looks at you with honesty. "I still want to make the best impression I can." He pauses, staring at the way ahead as he gives your hand a squeeze. "I just can't help thinking... maybe if I make a good impression, your parents, they'll—they'll be more supportive of you. Of us." Din looks at you again with a hopeful expression. "You know?"

You draw yourself closer to his side as you nod. "I understand." You lift your free hand and wrap it around his arm, hoping to release some of the tension within him as you continue. "But there's no pressure on you to accomplish that. All right? The fact we even get to have this evening is... a big step. I don't expect anything more."

Din nods, kissing your temple in silent thanks as you finish the walk to your house in sweet silence. When it looms in the distance, you can feel your stress returning, making you hold back a grimace as you lead Din closer and closer in that direction. In the true style of a Mandalorian-in-training, he looks as calm as ever, causing your own anxiety to lessen as he gives your hand one last reassuring squeeze.

You open the front door and step through the threshold, keeping Din's hand in yours as you do so. "Mother, father, I'm home!" you announce, walking through the sitting room to the kitchen. Your mother is already cooking third meal as your father sits at the table, reading something on a holopad that he looks away from once you and Din enter the room. His brow lifts when he notices Din at your side.

"Is this the boy?" your father asks, pointing at Din. You nod, drawing yourself closer to Din's side amidst your sudden uneasiness. Din keeps you there even as he walks forward with you, only dropping your hand to reach his out towards your father.

"Din," Din introduces himself, smiling in that polite and charming way that makes you grin yourself. Your father accepts his hand to shake it with slight hesitance, though you hope it's something only you have noticed. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Your father doesn't respond just yet, instead pulling his hand away and using it to gesture to the two chairs across from him. "Sit," your father instructs. "Third meal will be ready any moment now."

Din pulls your chair out for you, taking your hand to help you into your seat in a way that gives you butterflies. He then looks to where your mother's wrapping up her cooking. "Oh, I can help with—."

"Sit." Your father cuts him off with a curt tone, which is enough to make Din sink into his chair. You push yours close to his side, grabbing his hand underneath the table as the tension already starts to build. "We don't need guests serving us within our own home."

"I apologize, sir." Din's words are genuine, as meaningful as the thumb he brushes over the back of your hand to calm you.

"He was just trying to help, father," you mumble.

"What was that?" your father retorts.

"I said—," you begin to challenge him.

"It's all right," Din steps in, as calm as ever. He urges you to look at him, his brown eyes alone helping you to keep your cool as he goes on. "I should've listened to your father's first request."

Tense silence fills the room for a few, long moments, only dissipating when your mother brings third meal over to the table and sits beside your father. The sound of silverware at least provides some kind of background noise as your mother starts to serve everyone. When she sits down, Din stands to quickly shake her hand across the table, repeating the same introduction he offered to your father before he sits again.

"How'd you two meet?" Your father asks this question just before he begins to eat. You look over and meet Din's gaze, giving his hand a squeeze as you prepare to answer.

"Din came by the stall one day, at the beginning of the summer," you say, smiling when you catch Din's smile out of the corner of your eye. "He was really fascinated by the ramitrol. He helped me—."

"Ramitrol?" your mother speaks up this time, wrinkling her brow at you. "Why did you have ramitrol at the stall? You know we keep that in low stock."

"I just—I bring it with me sometimes, just in case," you explain, caught off guard by the interruption. "That's not relevant to the story."

"It will be relevant when you continue the business on your own," your mother goes on. "You have to stay resourceful."

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm with Din present. His hand drops yours to instead rest upon your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze that comforts you more than he knows. "Anyway... that's how we met. He kept coming back to the stall and then we started getting meals together."

"So, what I'm hearing is he distracts you from work," your father remarks.

You grip your utensil harder than you should, staring your father down as you furrow your brow at him. Before you have a chance to speak, Din decides to pitch in. "Absolutely not, sir," Din assures your father. "I always make sure the stall has no customers before I approach."

Now that your father's attention is back on Din, he starts to question him. "And what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a Mandalorian," Din answers. You don't miss the way both your parents freeze upon hearing that, making a cold feeling of dread wash over you as Din continues. "I'm training to protect my covert."

"A Mandalorian," your mother echoes, sharing a look with your father. You only become more nervous upon watching them. "All I've heard about Mandalorians is that they're good at killing."

"Mother," you warn, widening your eyes at her.

"You're training to be a murderer, then?" your father asks.

"Father!" you exclaim with dismay.

"We prefer not to reach that extreme," Din explains. His tone is cool. You can tell he's beginning to lose his own composure. "We just want to keep our covert safe. They're our family."

"And they're very kind," you add. "They took good care of me."

"Better than your own family?" your mother questions.

You're fuming now and there's nothing that can hold you back, not even Din. He gives your thigh another squeeze in an attempt to calm you down, but it won't work this time. "Actually? Yes. Yes they are."

"Excuse me?" your father says.

"They don't force their children to do things against their will," you continue to rant, "and they're very welcoming of others."

"Have we not welcomed this stranger into our home?" your mother reminds you.

"Any place where he's considered a stranger is not a home to me," you snap, taking Din's hand in yours again and setting it upon the table for your parents to see.

"You don't know what you're saying," your father scoffs. "You're young and immature. You haven't even experienced real life in this galaxy."

"And you have?" you continue to argue with a fiery passion. "The two of you have lived on Scespa your whole lives! No wonder why you're sending me to the Brelle system. You're too scared to go there yourselves!"

"You better watch your mouth," your father scolds. "We've been giving you enough freedom to meet this boy and we can take that away if you keep this up."

"Freedom? Freedom?" You laugh, but it's not with amusement. "Who are you to say I have freedom when you're forcing me into a life I never asked for?"

"Cyar'ika..." Din attempts to soothe you, keeping his voice low enough for only you to hear.

"And you think you'll have freedom being with a Mandalorian?" your mother scorns. "Don't you know how restrictive they are, hiding underground and covering their faces?"

"It's our Way," Din retorts in a warning tone.

"It's his choice!" you defend Din's people. "They're not forcing him to do anything! He's swearing the Creed on his own terms!"

"Lower your voice," your mother demands.

"You don't know kriff about freedom," your father insists, "and until you do, you won't be able to see this boy anymore."

You narrow your eyes and tighten your hold on Din's hand. "You can't do that," you say in a low, trembling voice. "I won't let you."

"We gave you freedom and you brought a future murderer into our home," your mother reminds you.

"He is no such thing," you growl, having passed your limit many moments ago.

"And what do you know of him?" your father scoffs. "You just met him at the beginning of the summer!"

"I know that I love him!" you exclaim, standing from your chair so rapidly that it screeches across the floor behind you. Din also stands beside you, keeping his grip on your hand as you continue. "And if that's something you can't accept, then you I guess you don't accept me, either!"

You urge Din to turn away from the table with you, preparing to march towards the door and leave this place that no longer feels like a home. Before you can get far, you feel a rough grasp around your arm, pulling you back and tearing your hand away from Din's. You turn your head over your shoulder and see your father standing there with a face contorted in anger, his grip hard enough to leave a bruise behind—but that doesn't last for long. Din steps forward to grasp your father's wrist just as harshly, furrowing his brow as he speaks in a voice so full of wrath and cold warning that it makes you shiver. "Let go of them," Din demands. "Now."

Your father narrows his eyes as he obeys, though you don't miss the hint of fear he tries to hide from his expression. "You're making a grave mistake," your father warns.

"Treat them like this again and I'll show you what a grave mistake is," Din insists, his jaw hardened as he brushes his hand over your lower back to urge you forward. "Come, cyar'ika."

You walk with him back to the front of the house, stepping through the threshold and leaving it behind in tense silence. Your hand holds Din's once again as you hurry forward, unsure of where you're even going as you push ahead. You're humming with rage and emotions you can't even begin to process, your mind screaming with dozens of things you wish you could yell right into your parents' faces.

"Ner kar'ta," Din calls for you in a soft voice.

"How could they say those things, Din?" you begin to rant, your brow furrowed as you focus on the ground moving beneath your feet. "They don't even know you! They don't even—they don't know anything!"

"It's okay," Din assures you, sounding much calmer than before—though it doesn't help you now.

"It's not okay!" you go on. "You're not a murderer, you—you're the kindest and most caring person I've ever known! I've seen it, I—how could they say I don't know you?"

"Cyare," Din tries to call for you again.

"And then they tried to keep me from seeing you?" You scoff, shaking your head as you keep rushing forward and taking Din along with you. "Who do they think they are? They think they know me? I'm no child of theirs, then!" Din doesn't even get a chance to speak again before you continue. "I can't believe they'd say all that, I... I know they're not horrible people, I'm supposed to love them, but—how can I when they treat us like that?"

You don't realize how out of breath you are until now, your chest heaving as you continue to march forward. You can feel Din giving your hand a gentle tug to encourage you to stop, but you can't bring yourself to obey, needing to put as much distance between yourself and your parents' house as you can.

"I hate them," you mutter with pure anger present behind each word. "I hate them and the way they don't use their knowledge for good!"

"Cyar'ika, please—," Din tries again.

"I hate that they keep these medicinal secrets to themselves! I hate that they only sell what they think is profitable! I hate everything they stand for—I hate them, Din!"

"Ner kar'ta, please, breathe." Din's words are firm in a caring way as he takes his hand from yours, instead gripping your shoulders as he makes you face him. It's only when you stop that you realize you've walked all the way to your spot on the hill, where you can see that the colors of the sky are fading into the night. Your chest heaves with all the emotion that's welling up inside you, your eyes full of frustrated tears waiting to be shed. Din's gentle image blurs before you as he eases his hands onto the side of your face. You know his expression is full of the care and concern that never fails to give you butterflies, but you can't make it out past your tears.

Though you've tried to push it away, a sob tears its way through your burning throat, making you collapse into Din's arms as you bury your face in his chest. He holds you tight against him, whispering sweet nothings into your ear to soothe you. Din sinks down to his knees on the grass, taking you with him as you wrap your arms tightly against his middle. You cry so hard that it becomes difficult to speak, but once you can, the words come out in an incoherent mess. "I'm sorry, Din," you weep, your voice muffled by the material of his shirt. "I'm sorry they said those things to you. I'm sorry that I thought this would turn out differently."

"Don't apologize," Din whispers, kissing your head to comfort you. "You don't have to take responsibility for the things they said. It's not your fault."

"But I should've—I should've kept them from saying more," you whimper. "I should've gotten us out of there sooner."

"You did everything you could," Din assures you, brushing his hand over the back of your head. "It's not your fault."

You wait until you've cried out the last of your tears, sniffling a few times before you lift your head to face Din directly. He holds your face in his hands again, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears as best as he can. Losing yourself in his gaze works to calm you, making you feel safe and secure again as his eyes sparkle in the golden hour of the setting sun. You take a deep breath as you even start to smile, watching Din do the same before his brow furrows in severity.

"Cyar'ika," Din begins, searching your eyes as he continues in a careful tone. "You... you said you loved me."

Your heart begins to beat wildly against your chest as you think back to the words you'd spoken to your parents. You were so caught up in your emotions that you didn't even think about Din hearing the truth that's been buried within you for quite a while, now. You're unable to think of words with which to respond to Din, instead meeting his gaze as he goes on.

"Did you mean it?" Din's words are quieter now, as if he's afraid to ask them.

"Of course I did." You rush the words out, not wanting Din to doubt your feelings for even a single moment. You smile as you search his sparkling eyes. "I love you, Din."

His gaze softens in a way you've never seen before, the corners of his mouth beginning to lift in that sweet smile you adore. Din pulls you closer as he rests his forehead against yours. "I love you too, cyar'ika," Din says, his words soft yet meaningful. "I... I've been wanting to tell you, but I was afraid of scaring you because I know time's passed by quickly, and I didn't want you to feel..." Din hesitates, trying to find a word for his thoughts—and failing.

Instead, you speak amidst the silence. "I feel nothing but love, Din. I promise you."

Din comes closer until his nose and his lips brush against yours, his voice soft as he murmurs his response. "I promise you, too."

With that, he presses his lips fully upon yours, submerging you in the feeling you can never get enough of. Your heightened emotions from the encounter with your parents makes everything stronger, clouding your mind as you put everything you possibly can into the kiss. Your hands travel from his chest to his neck and into his hair, tugging the ends as you lay back and urge Din to come with you. He obliges for now, hovering over you on the grass as one of his hands holds your face and the other supports his weight. You sigh with pure pleasure at the feeling of him, his unrestrained love that pours over you so freely. You do know what freedom is—and you don't want to stop feeling it.

When you're forced to part for air, your gaze meets Din with desperation, your hands now clinging to the sides of his face as if you'll fall far away if you let go. "Din," you whisper, lost in the haze of his love and caught up in all the emotions of the evening. "Love me. I—I need you to love me until I've forgotten everything except for you."

Din holds a breath in his chest, looking down at you as if you're the most precious creation in the galaxy—but hesitating as he brushes his thumb over your cheek. "I... would love to, ner kar'ta," Din begins, his tone cautious. "I want that just as badly. But, I... I can't."

You can feel your heart fall into your stomach as you furrow your brow, the rejection stinging harder than it should. "What do you mean, you can't?"

Din sighs and you can tell he's thinking carefully about each and every word he says. It still doesn't make your rising anger dissipate. "I can't right now, cyare," Din explains. "Not under these circumstances."

"What circumstances?" You frown as you sit up on your elbows, forcing Din to lean back on his heels. "You don't believe me, do you? You don't think I really love you."

"That's not true," Din insists, worry etched on his features. "I believe you. I just—."

"You think I can't handle making this decision for myself." You scoff, shaking your head in disappointment. Deep down, you know you're being irrational, but the whirlwind of emotions you've experienced this evening clouds your judgement.

"Cyar'ika, please, don't put words in my mouth."

"You didn't have to say anything. I can see it on your face." You start to stand up, at least thankful for the fact that Din backs off and gives you space to do so.

"You've been hurt badly tonight." Din's desperation to get through to you is obvious in his tone. "I can't—I can't take advantage of that. Not when your mind is distracted."

You narrow your eyes as you cross your arms defensively over your chest. "You mean, not when I'm being irrational?"

Din struggles to hide his own frustration now as he sets his hands on his hips. "I didn't say that." He releases a breath and furrows his brow at you. "I just want what's best for you."

"Just like my parents do, huh?" You take a step closer to Din, lifting your chin in a challenging manner as your lips start to tremble like before. "Why don't you just go back to them and agree that everything I've decided for my own life has been a mistake—including you?"

You know the words strike hard—harder than you wanted them to. You regret them the moment they leave your mouth, especially upon seeing the defeated and hurt expression on his handsome face. His hands fall back to his sides as he speaks with a voice so quiet it aches. "You don't mean that."

Your vision starts to blur as you shake your head, avoiding the deep hurt in his brown eyes that you love more than you can say. "I don't... I don't know what I believe anymore."

When you finally gain the faith to look at Din again, you can see him taking a cautious step towards you, his hand beginning to reach out. "Cyar'ika—."

"No." You step back, moving away from his attempt at comfort as deep guilt washes over you. You don't deserve his pity after the way you just hurt him. A tear escapes your eye at the mere thought of it, at the horror you feel upon remembering what you'd said. "I can't... I don't..." Your lips tremble more and more as your throat burns just like before, wanting nothing more than to be comforted by Din but feeling unworthy in the face of your harsh words. "I'm sorry—I'm so sorry, Din."

Unable to face him any longer, you turn and start to run forward, again unsure of where you're going but refusing to hurt Din any more than you already have. Your chest aches both from the hurt you've caused and the cries you're trying to keep buried within you, especially as you hear Din's voice calling for you. You can't bring yourself to listen to him. Your feet carry you back into town, onto a familiar path to the only place where you can think of finding at least a shred of the comfort you want to seek from Din.

You get there in record time as you knock on the door, looking over your shoulder with relief when you realize Din hasn't followed you here. The door slides open and Drinna stands there with a joyful expression that quickly fades when she observes the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, honey, what's happened?" Drinna greets with strong sympathy, catching you in her arms when you latch onto her. She manages to shut the door and get you both over to her couch, sitting down and letting you hug her from the side. You manage to keep most of your cries buried within you, your chest heaving from the effort as Drinna runs her hand repetitively over your head. "Was it ya' parents? And where's Din?"

The sound of his name makes you want to weep as hard as you can, but you swallow the urge down, instead lifting your head from her shoulder as you start to tell her about everything that's happened. You begin with the dinner and even tell her of your loving confessions, barely able to repeat the hurtful words you'd said to Din as your emotions of hurt from your parents start to fade and make your judgement clearer again.

You shake your head as you finish, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands as you release a trembling breath. "I'm so stupid, Drinna," you say with resentment targeted towards yourself. "All Din wanted to do was help, but I hurt him. What if he doesn't—what if he can't—..." your mind can't conceive of losing him, causing you to trail off as you look at her with desperation and shame.

"Hon, don't do that to yourself," Drinna chastises with a gentle voice, urging your head to lean against her shoulder as she wraps a comforting arm around you. "Din knows you real well, better than you're aware of. He knows you didn't mean that—he said it to ya' himself!"

"But you didn't see how hurt he looked," you insist, closing your burning eyes as the image of Din's defeated expression haunts your mind. "Even if he knows I didn't mean it, I still said it, and I hurt him. All he wanted to do was protect me... and he was right. I would've regretted it if we went through with it."

"Darlin', if you really think he was right, then you should tell him that."

You furrow your brow and shake your head hopelessly. "I can't. I don't know where he is. He's probably in the covert trying not to think about me."

Drinna urges you to lift your head from her shoulder, facing you with a twinkle in her eye. "Honey, he's right outside."

Your jaw drops in shock as you glance at the door. You can't see anything from here. "How... how do you know that?"

"For starters, I've gotten to know Din pretty well." Drinna smiles as she starts to explain herself. "He's come over a few times, wantin' to get to know ya' better and get advice from me."

You sit there in disbelief as you listen to her. "He... really?"

"Think about it more, hon, and it won't shock ya' as much." Drinna glances towards the door just like you had before. "Plus, when I was takin' you in here, I saw him comin' 'round the corner." Drinna cups your cheek with motherly affection. "You really think Din would leave ya' alone in your time of need, no matter what ya' said?"

You look at the door again, managing to crack a smile as you meet Drinna's gaze again. "You're right."

Drinna pats your cheek and gestures to the door. "Then go get him, darlin'."

You smile wider and thank her with a quick hug, standing up and hurrying to the door. You take a deep breath as you let it slide open, looking to your right just to see Din pacing and wringing his hands. He looks up as soon as you step through the threshold, his gaze filling with relief as he stops what he's doing. You know he wants to approach you, but he hesitates, afraid of making you run away again.

This time, you run to him, throwing your arms around him as you pull him as close as possible. "I'm sorry, Din," you confess with as much meaning as you can manage. Your words are muffled by his shirt but you know he can still make them out. "I'm so sorry. You were right, you did all the right things. I'm sorry I was being so irrational and I'm sorry that I hurt you."

Din holds you in the way you love so much, one hand supporting your back as the other holds your head against him. "That's a lot of sorrys," Din jokes, making you laugh as you close your eyes and breathe him in. "It's all right, ner kar'ta. I understand. You've... been through a lot today."

You take a deep breath before you lift your face from his chest, bringing your hands to his cheeks as you stare into his brown eyes. "I didn't mean what I said before," you reiterate, making your voice as serious as you can manage. "Please tell me you know that."

"I know." Din takes your face in his hands, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before he beams at you. "I know you love me just as much as I love you."

You nod as you brush your thumbs over his cheeks. "I do." You press a soft and tender kiss to his mouth, keeping it short to be mindful of any passerby as you smile at him. "Thank you for coming back for me."

Din's gaze never leaves yours as he answers. "I always will."

Your smile widens as you step away from him, taking one of his hands and lacing it with your own. "Can we go home now?"

When you use the term "home," you know Din understands what place you're referring to—something that makes him smile at you with breathless adoration as he nods. "Yes, let's get you home."

With his hand tight in yours, Din starts to lead you back home to the covert, reminding you of the truth that no matter what might happen this summer, Din will do everything he can to remain by your side. •••