Armored Passion | The Mandalorian

|30|

"Who in the fuck is knocking on the door this early in the kriffing morning?" I groan out as the loud knocking on the door startled my sleeping form into a... not so sleeping form. Kriffing Maker, it's too early for this right now. I slowly roll out of Din's warm embrace, carefully setting the toned arm that had been previously wrapped around my waist on the soft mattress he was laying out on. 

He still looked to be asleep, but I couldn't really tell for sure. He had quite the track record of looking asleep but actually being awake, so I wasn't going to assume anything just yet. I admire his face for a few more quiet moments, but the loud rapping of knuckles against the door pulls me out of my subtle state of admiration.

I quickly adjust Din's large shirt around my figure as I walk out of the master bedroom, briskly making my way to the suite's main door. I rub the sleep from my eyes before taking a few lazy glances around the place. 

The entire place was pretty dim and dark thanks to all of the curtains that had been drawn to cover the large windows that line one of the main walls of the lounge. Either Din had drawn them all before coming to bed last night, or he had drawn them earlier on in the day while I was out and I just hadn't noticed it when I came back after my meetings. 

Either way, the place is fucking dark, and the only source of light I have is coming from the cracks in the long-drawn curtains. 

I stumble around in the dark for a bit, squinting my tired, burning eyes as if that were going to help me see anything better. After a few more steps towards the door, I almost tumble straight down to the ground, not realizing that there was a random fucking step in the middle of the Maker-forsaken floor—

I finally reach the door and pull it open, not caring to bring a blaster or my lightsaber along with me. The bright lights from the hall burn my eyes for a few short moments, making me snap my head to the side and close my eyes. I blink fast a few times, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the new source of excruciating light. After my eyes adjust properly, I look back up to see who was standing in the middle of the doorway. 

"Michael, do you know what time it is?" I question in a whiney tone, automatically assuming that it was still early in the morning. At least, it felt like it was still early on in the day. Then again, it's not like I was the best advocate for time right now. 

"It's actually about mid-day—"

"Which is still a little too early for me right now," I interrupt, slowly leaning against the door frame while keeping my eyes on his. Fuck, I can't believe that it was already mid-day. We were supposed to leave first thing in the morning so we could head to Corvus. 

"Well, you never have been an early riser. Anyway, I brought this along for the two of you. Thought that you'd be hungry and up by now," he says, holding his hands out to bring my attention back to the low-set trolley placed in front of the both of us. 

He lifts the metal cover to reveal an assortment of what Canto Bight would consider being a decent breakfast. Upon the table, there were bowls upon bowls of vibrant looking fruit paired together with matching jams set in mini ramekins, loaves of warm bread that looked to be far better than any of the loaves I had consumed from the tiny portion packets I used to live on in my early bounty hunting years, and a cluster of refreshing-looking drinks that were set out in the corner of the large surface. 

My eyes widen and my jaw practically drops down to the ground. 

"Michael, how am I ever going to repay you for everything you've done for me? Letting my husband and I stay in this wonderful room on the house was already so generous of you and you've always been so kind to me. I really don't deserve this kind of special treatment from you," I say, trying to reject his offer politely. He's always done so much for me and I hated that I was rarely ever around to really show him my gratitude.