#dsrtrose

" don't be presumptuous. " jack drawls, tipping the top hat from his face. the sun bears down, keen to keep them dripping sweat and money. planning has never been the gang's strong suit.

and this day of enjoying the breeze as he lays flat in the grass is better than london's stink. though he does miss the old playground from time to time, the promise here is every more tempting.

“sadie adler, if you don’t sit down this instant —!” the rest of the threat has yet to be finished, and that much is probably for the benefit of both sadie and eliza. instead, eliza grabs the other woman by the arm and forces her to sit atop a barrel, holding her biceps to keep her in place - let it be known that this roughhousing comes from a place of the utmost affection. (that is the only reason eliza is confident she can get away with it.) “take your hat off an’ lemme get a look at your hair — looks like birds might start t’use it as a nest soon enough.”

𖤓༻❁༺𖤓༻❁༺𖤓

The soft blue light of a freshly risen moon down on the old wooden porch of the Marshal's office in the center of town. There's a faint melody of crickets chirping in the distance, and the ever growing bustle of laughter and song coming from the saloon across the way. Raylan's arms are crossed in front of his chest, head turned to look over his shoulder at the woman slumped into the chair beside the window. He loved that chair, it's where he had his coffee every morning, where he sat in the middle of the day and watched the ever growing flow of the towns people; and where he sat at the end of every night.

There's a blanket folded on the window sill behind her that he drapes over her form, hoping to god he doesn't wake her in the process. Unfortunately for him, she's stirring as soon as soon he does so. "I was tryin' not t' wake you." He whispers, taking a seat on that window sill beside her. There's a loud crash and a heckle of laughter as two men burst through the wooden doors of the Saloon and begin singing in unison as they stumble towards the dirt road. It only distracts the Marshal for a moment before he's turning to meet those sleepy eyes of hers.

"Oh, I couldn't imagine it ever bein an issue, you fallin' asleep on my porch. In fact, I gladly welcome the change."

he does not show his face. not to people that hire him, not to friends, not to anyone, even when they ask. even when they're nice to him, the lone mandalorian remains concealed — subverted behind heavy black cloth tucked over his nose. he remains that way even here, even now, seated across from a rather desperate woman who seems to grip the surface of the wooden table between them like she might slide off if she lets go. the fire in her eyes is unlike anything din has ever seen (caustic, frantic, like she's just witnessed hell and come crawling out of it with the last ounce of life she has left). i don't know their names, she tells him solidly, and din is about to speak up and ask more when she cuts him off — i know where they were headed next. what they looked like. what they smelled like. din gives a steady nod. it's all i've got, she finalizes, setting a pouch of coins upon the table, and din, squinting beneath his wide-brimmed hat, gives the bag a nod, until...

— i want to go with you. it's the last thing he's expecting to hear when she finishes her words, when she stares him down across the table and crushes his gaze with her own. there are plenty of things he wants to say in response, but he stops himself. he stops himself at the cusp of confession, lets his shoulders lean back into the wood curve of his chair, and stares at her, heavy.

𓆱 ৴ @dsrtrose he can spot the last of the o'driscolls fleeing into the forest with tails between their legs through the gunsmoke and the charring black of the nearby cabin. he waits a moment, straining senses all around. nothing but bodies and the stillness until eliza speaks up.

" what? eliza? " he takes a step back, glancing over his shoulder and double-takes the apparent red that blooms on her blouse. charles sucks air between his teeth, holstering his weapon and rushing to her side. blood warm and sticky against his palm when he tries to assess the wound, nostrils flare with the obvious heavy scent of iron and musk. goddamn it. " gotta get you to a doctor. the nearest town ... here, put your arm around my neck. "

privacy is rare these days –– jyn can't remember the last time she and eliza'd had a moment to themselves without the constant possibility of someone from the gang ruining the moment. ( the last time it'd happened, she'd seriously considering shooting someone, alliances be damned. ) buying a hotel room for the night had been a necessary splurge. with how things are going lately, the increasingly wild schemes dutch has been coming up with. . .a distraction is very much needed, if only to get her mind off of what feels like the decline of their wild band of outlaws.

but a night off doesn't mean her instincts have magically disappeared. jyn's cleared the room, double and triple-checked the locks on the door and windows, and made sure that they have multiple paths to an exit before she allows eliza to draw her into a kiss. when she pulls back, her eyes darken at the sight of eliza's nightgown and the way it just barely covers her skin. they'll never be fully safe with the life they lead, but eliza's right -- they're as safe as they can be for the night.

she pulls eliza in for another kiss, hands sliding down her back until they rest on her hips. at the other woman's request, she reluctantly pulls away and unceremoniously drops her coat to the floor without a second thought ; it's barely hit the floorboards before her attention moves elsewhere : namely, the junction of skin between eliza's jawline and neck. " would much rather focus on you, " she murmurs against her skin, rucking up eliza's skirt ever so slightly as she runs her hands down the other woman's sides. " you get all dolled up just for me ? "

it's a win in her books even if eliza doesn't outwardly laugh -- the small exhale of breath is enough for her. they're both here, both alive. it'll take more than a bullet to kill her, a fact that jyn knows already, but maybe eliza needs a reminder, especially so soon after a gunfight.

" no special treatment ? then i'm askin' for a refund, " she grumbles but leans back into eliza's embrace all the same. despite her words, there's an undercurrent of amusement in her voice. they're both alive, they're both fine. " hope you ain't treatin' your other ladies like this -- i bet they're not gonna put up with it like i do. "