Armored Passion | The Mandalorian

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"This is the business you run?"

Din's gaze locked onto the famous club we had just stopped in front of moments ago. I noticed the way his gloved hand gently urged the kid further into the little canvas tote he had hanging from one of his broad shoulders. He loosely draped the top cloth over the kid's head to keep him hidden and completely out of sight. He then adjusts the strap of the other bag that he had brought along, which just so happened to be full of the clothes and necessities we were going to be needing for our short overnight stay. 

I let out a small sigh before looking back towards the front of the club, my mind trying to gauge how rough the interaction was going to be for us. It was about mid-day or so, but the place was already packed and filled to the absolute brim. Maker, the place looked like it was already fighting the legal max-capacity, but I doubt anyone inside gave a shit about that. 

It was going to be hard walking in unnoticed. Hell, I don't even think that was going to be a possible option anymore. I mean, people were bound to notice the owner walk in with an intimidating Mandalorian fellow standing by her side. 

"This is the one," I answer, nodding my head as a shaky breath escaped me. I look through the glass double doors that led to the club's main foyer, something squaring up perfectly in my line of sight. 

My gaze locked onto a well-painted portrait of Adrienne set on the furthest wall and a chill seemed to run down my spine, making my limbs shiver slightly. I snap my attention away from the portrait, looking off to the side. My eyes immediately met the shiny sight of the statue of Adrienne that the patrons of the club pitched in to make, even though I explicitly said that they didn't need to do so. Apparently, they all wanted something to do with Adrienne's metallic legacy. I let out a heavy huff and straighten my back out. 

"Just so you know, you have permission to absolutely body slam any asshole that gives you good reason to," I add. I had a feeling that it wouldn't come down to that, but it was always nice to set a small precaution into play. 

"Sounds like a plan," he mutters, nodding his head while looking down at me. I nervously swallow and shake my hands out before walking towards the large doorway. I grip onto one of the gold handles, but I stop myself from pulling the door open. I let go of it and take a few steps back, immediately snapping my gaze up to look at Din. "What's wrong?"

"Are you okay with me referring to myself as Mae Djarin?" I rush out, forcing myself to push each word out of my mouth. He seems to tense up and he stays silent for a few long moments, making me think that his answer was just going to be an automatic no. 

I let out a shaky breath and look away from him, partially wishing that I hadn't even asked him. What the hell was I thinking? I can't believe I actually asked him if he would be okay with me referring to myself as Mae Djarin. We haven't even talked about what we were or what we were supposed to be. 

Sure, he calls me all of those freaking pet names and he shows that he cares for me, but that doesn't mean he's ready for something like that to be public for all of Canto Bight to know. I can't believe I actually fucking asked him if  I could refer to myself as Mae Djarin in a place that made me feel like my life was a fucking holo-net show. 

I shake my head and walk back towards the door, trying to escape the tense air I had just created. I just need to focus on getting through my business meetings and leaving everything in an orderly manner so I didn't have to spend any more time in the one place that seemed to rattle my brain completely. Then we could go back to finding Ahsoka and getting the kid a proper Jedi master. 

I go to grab back onto the golden door handle once again, but Din's modulated voice stopped me from going any further with my action. 

"Why wouldn't I be okay with you referring to yourself as my riduur?"