[SEASON ONE, COMPLETE]
❛There's a word for us in Mando'a... 𝕹𝖆𝖗𝖚𝖉𝖆𝖗. Temporary ally. That's what we've been since the beginning... right?❜
• A bounty hunter encounters an enemy she's stumbled upon one too many times, though this particularly...
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Chapter Thirty: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖍. word count; 4.0k
"No, wait—"
"Will you quit moving my hands—"
"But it's painful!"
"I know." Din returned both his gloved palms against your cheekbones (which was a little strange, you found, because he was quite literally cupping your face) after you'd forcibly pulled them away for the ten-thousandth time today. Although the two thumbs settling on each side of your crooked nose were situated as mildly as the Mandalorian possibly could, that didn't impede the constant, endless pain elevating each time something so much as touched it.
You didn't comply with Din's suggestion to realign the dislocated bone at first. But when you found you were hardly capable of breathing through your nostrils and the stabbing discomfort never ceased, you reluctantly agreed to readjust it, no matter how insufferably excruciating it would turn out to be. Even then, you had insisted on fixing it yourself but found you could barely bring yourself to place your own thumbs on your nose and feel around for the misaligned bone. So, once again unwillingly, you gave Din the permission to do it himself.
"No, you don't know," you retorted, snatching his hands away by the wrist again, pulling them back. "How could you say that if you always hide your face behind beskar? You don't know what a broken nose feels like."
"It's happened before." This time, he moved your hands back down to your sides in an effort to prevent you from interrupted his attempt in feeling around for the correct spot. "Several times."
You scoffed, eyes glaring into the visor inches away from you. His fingers returned to your face once more. "Sure."
"Sometimes beskar can be a disadvantage. It's impenetrable. Someone forces your face against anything hard, you're bound to hit your nose against the mask."
That made perfect sense, actually. When first purchasing your mask, you never would've imagined that you would sustain anymore injuries to your face. But of course, the low-quality armor wasn't exactly as durable as beskar steel, and so accompanied by the impact coming from the Nikto hunter's fist, was a dent. Which would surely take its time to smooth out. While you elected not to reply, a memory nicked at the back of your mind—one that would normally bring you further distaste towards the Mandalorian, but you know what? It was funny now, weirdly enough. Considering the situation you were in and how long ago it was, it was actually quite amusing to you now. "You know..." you started. "You broke my nose once."
"What? When?"
"The first time we met, remember? You flipped me around and my face hit the ground, started bleeding... I was chasing the loose bounty all around the city with a bloody nose."
