#cadras

Prompt partially inspired by “Someone Like You" from the Jekyll and Hyde musical

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Cadras would’ve laughed.  It would have been a semi-disgusted laugh, as he was wont to express disgust no matter what emotion he was feeling at any given moment.  And even though Dasire was sitting here, hands wrapped around the controls of the light, tiny starship, gazing into the distant stars that floated in a sea of black…

..he would’ve laughed at her for sitting there.  For moping around.  It wasn’t like her, he’d say with a shake of his head.  She could be apathetic at times..as was he…but her brother Cadras and she were not the ones to sit around and sulk.

At least, she wasn’t, now.  

Cadras wasn’t here. 

Her gaze hardened as she stared out the viewport, her hands clenching tightly around the controls.  

Sith and Jedi alike had been struck down after 66.  It didn’t matter that she and Cadras had been assassins under the Sith Code.  No.  Apparently they had been a threat and now she was on the run from her own kind, with no brother, and her only companion was a padawan-less Jedi Knight with no home.

“Dasire..”

Speaking of the Jedi…

Oko leaned forward, his black hair tickling her cheek.  His pale hands pried her fingers from the controls.

“Go eat.”

Dasire pulled away at his voice, allowing her hands to fall to her sides.  She stood and paced to the cargo hold; a little space they had transformed into their eating/living area.  A bowl of food awaited her on an empty crate, turned over to become a makeshift table.  Dasire hunched before it.  She didn’t have an appetite..but she couldn’t remember having breakfast or not. 

It was cold when she put the first bite into her mouth, and she chewed slowly, not really tasting the food itself.  Oko must’ve waited with his own food…

…Dasire dropped her metal spoon into the bowl with a dull *thunk*.

She’d told him she’d eat lunch with him!  She had forgotten entirely, staring off in to the stars, lost in a whirl of her own thoughts..!  And Oko had pushed himself away from his own grief and frustration to not only prepare a meal, but to ensure she was actually eating it!

Dasire picked up her bowl and spoon and hurried back to the cockpit, pausing on the threshold to look at the back of Oko’s head.  His posture was stiff and still; his shaggy black hair was in bad need of a trim.  She had cut Cadras’ hair once or twice, herself.  Perhaps Oko wouldn’t be averse to her cutting his own..?

“Oko,” she murmured.  

The Jedi leaned over and pressed a button.  Perhaps he, too, was lost in his own dark cloud of loss and confusion. 

“Oko-”  She said his name a little louder, and she walked behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.  He started at the touch, swiveling to look up at her.  Their broken gazes meet, and it’s reflected in the other’s eyes. 

He waited for her to speak, quietly offering her his attention.

“..Thank you…for the..food,” she mumbled, a dark blush creeping up her green face.  Dasire was never one for intentional polite words.  Cadras hadn’t either.  And Oko seemed to recognize that, as his dark brows drew together and a tiny smile pulled at his lips.

“Are you dying?” he responded.  It was a lame attempt at humor…but it was an attempt. 

“..No..no..”  She was blushing furiously now.  She could feel it, hot and uncomfortable, underneath her skin.  “I just..nevermind.”

Dasire looked out at the stars, scooping up another bite and putting it in her mouth so Oko could see she was eating.  He blinked at her, then shrugged and looked back at the viewport.  He twisted a knob.

“What I wouldn’t give to go back to the time where I had no concerns.”

It slipped out without Dasire really meaning it, and she immediately blushed again when she felt Oko’s eyes on her face.  She ducked into her bowl, hoping her long locks of hair would further hide her.

“..I know.”

Oko’s response was terse and strained.  “Believe me, Dasire.  I know.”

Dasire swallowed her bite, feeling it stick to her throat.  She blinked quickly, several times, and one hand reached out to find Oko’s.  The Jedi certainly wasn’t expecting the touch, staring at her fingers on his own for a moment with surprise while his own cheeks rushed with color.  But he obligingly allowed her hand to twist around his, relaxing his grip so she hold it comfortably. 

They were broken and lost.