ev'rybody wants to be a cat

You’re curled up in bed, holding your knees to your chest, and you know you’ve never felt so awful in your whole life. It doesn’t really matter what happened, because at the end of the day you know you don’t deserve this. Whatever you have done wrong throughout your life does not equate to the amount of mental torment you feel now. It isn’t your fault that the galaxy is cruel, you could never have crafted such wicked designs if you tried, and in this moment you are thankful that you have grown past the self-hatred that you would have felt in years prior.

You know there’s nothing you can do to change this feeling now, so you just hold your knees close as if they would somehow equate to the comfort of another person.

You don’t know how long you’ve been like this, but it’s definitely hours at this point. You have zoned out completely, lost in a daze out of self-preservation, so you don’t hear as the front door of your flat opens, nor when your name is called in a soft, worried voice. You don’t even hear the footsteps coming down the hallway, and your bedroom door is so quiet as it zips open that you wouldn’t hear it if you were in a fit state. The first indication that someone has entered your space is a whisper.

“Cyare?”

You don’t have any time to be worried about whether it might be an intruder, because the voice this so unmistakable that all of the tension immediately drains from your body. You know Rex realises something is very wrong. All of the lights are out, and ordinarily you would bound into his arms like a puppy that had waited all day for its owner to return. This is a very different picture, a much more dull, lifeless scene, and you wish that you could be more joyous upon his unexpected return, but you do not have the capacity.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, gently stroking his knuckles along your arm, and your breath syncs to the movement. He must have left his armour by the door as usual, because you do not feel the scrape of his gauntlet plate against your skin, just the usual softness that accompanies everything he does.

“What do you need from me, cyare?” he speaks quietly, and if you hadn’t already spent your tears it would set you off. He was always so considerate, and in a weak moment like this, it only makes you feel even weaker.

“Nothing” you reply timidly.

He knows you well, so he knows what you mean.

He starts by peeling the duvet away, knowing you run hot, and after stewing in your own emotions for however long you shot past warm a while ago. He then lifts your head gently, placing an extra pillow underneath just as you like. Just when you think he’s probably finished adjusting, he begins to strip you of the jewellery that adorns your body, that you had not cared to remove when you placed yourself here.

Your earrings are removed first, and he takes the utmost care with each item as it unhooks. You can hear the soft clink as they are placed on your bedside table, and something about the tone and pitch of it is soothing. He unclips your necklaces, untangling as he goes, always making sure never to snag your skin. Then he sits closer, and reaches over to take your wrists and remove the stacks of bracelets that have been digging into you. He soothes over the marked skin with his thumb, and you melt at the softness of his touch.

Looking up to him as he begins to remove your rings, you can’t help but smile, even if it is weak, barely there. He is really here, looking after you with every bit of love as he always does, when you know he has most likely had harrowing experiences of his own that he’s reluctant to speak aloud. You know he likes to feel needed, to give without pretence, that it’s the way his love manifests most often. Allowing him to care for you now is all you can do to welcome him home and make him feel safe again.

Once he has made sure you are comfortable, he lays down beside you, and you immediately turn to bury your face in his chest. He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t need to. He knows you’ll tell him your woes when you’re ready, and he’s always happy to go at your pace. He’s always been reassuring in that way, since the very first time you met. He strokes your arm again, and you let out a deep sigh.

“Tell me something” you murmur, seeking further distraction, “something happy”

Rex thinks for a moment, but the answer is obvious; “I’m home, indefinitely”

You lips lift to a genuine smile, because there is nothing that brings you more joy. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you hold him tightly, weaving your limbs with his.

“I’m so glad you’re back” you mutter.

“Me too, cyare” he replies, pressing a kiss to your head “me too”

You guys are on leave and that means Rex can finally get a full night's rest. Obviously, he's a light sleeper due to always having to be ready for a fight, but that isn't a problem right now. He claims he sleeps better when you're with him. Even though you and Rex are in a relationship, nights together are few. You work with the 501st, but that doesn't mean your schedules are exactly lined up. You were lucky to even get a few quiet moments with your lover.

It was frustrating; you're close in proximity, as you're on the same ship as him, but yet sometimes it still feels like there's a distance between you. So, moments like these where you can spend nights and mornings in his arms, you never take for granted.

Currently, you're at some cheap hotel in the polluted urban maze that Coruscant is. It's what you can afford, since the GAR isn't paying their soldiers. Rex feels bad because he wants to be the one taking care of you, but you always insist it's fine. You're telling the truth too.

Renting a measly hotel room is the least you can do for a man who deserves the most. Besides, Rex makes it up in many other ways. He's a very attentive partner. Always checking in on you throughout the day, always finding a moment to come see you when you're having a bad day, bringing you souvenirs and telling you why they reminded him of you, or making you feel cherished as he whispers the sweetest nothings into your ear are a few examples.

You're snapped out of your thoughts when you feel Rex's arm that's around your waist pull you closer to him. He's still sleeping, but his hand slips under your sleeping shirt, seeking the warmth of the skin of your lower back. You watch his face, looking for any signs of him waking up, but when his breathing becomes softer again, you conclude he's not.

You want to reach up and press soft kisses along his face, but you resist the urge in order to not interrupt his rest. You decide to get out of bed and start making breakfast, so that way you don't have to fight any other urges to touch him.

You slowly untangle yourself from his grasp. At first, you hear him murmur something, and you're afraid you woke him. However, he doesn't make any other move. You tiptoe to the small kitchenette and, as quietly as possible, start gathering ingredients.

You're in the midst of washing some fruit when you feel strong arms wrap around your waist. You let out a yip of surprise and turn your head over your shoulder to see Rex's face inches from yours.

"What are you doing?" He's the first to speak.

"I'm making us breakfast. Did I wake you up?" you playfully pout.

Rex nuzzles into your neck before he answers, "Yeah, you did."

You feel your heart sink and are about to profusely apologize, but he cuts in, "You know I can't sleep without you, cyare."

You feel your racing heart start to slow when you process his words. You set down the fruit in your hands before turning in his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck before teasing, "My poor baby."

Rex scoffs at your words. You gently pull his head to yours, until you're able to place a soft kiss on his lips.

"Can you ever forgive me?" you put a dramatic pout on your face. Rex lets out a low hum of contemplation, while his eyes dart all across your face, taking in your features.

"I might need another kiss before I decide," he murmurs against your lips. A small grin breaks out on your face before you're pulling him back in. The kiss isn't hurried nor is it deep. It's one that blocks out all the noise coming from outside. One that makes Rex feel like the only thing in your world. One that's full of love.

When you break apart, Rex rests his forehead against yours, not ready to part from you.

"You're forgiven," he whispers, which makes you giggle. Suddenly, you feel his arms move down to hook under your thighs, and now you're up in the air. You cling to Rex as he starts moving.

"Rex, our breakfast," you laugh again.

"Mmm, don't care. I haven't had enough cuddles," he states matter-of-factly. Your giggles don't cease until he's placing you on the bed and crawling over you. He plops himself down on top of you, his weight stopping you from escaping.

"Rex," you try again, but really you don't care about breakfast anymore.

"I'll make us something later. Let me just enjoy having you in my arms," he says looking up at you. You could never resist his big brown eyes. You feel him place a kiss against your clothed sternum before resting his head against it. Your fingers automatically find his scalp to start giving him light scratches, and you hear him let out a hum of contentment before his weight is further relaxing onto you.

"I love you, Rex," you whisper through the peaceful silence.