𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.
Rylann Tetra, Shaak Ti's padawan, is stationed on Kamino to her disliking. Ry, taken from her home when she was only two, is upset that she didn't get a choice to become a jedi, wishing she was never discover...
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Her foot hurt. Every step she took, pain shot up the back of her ankle. It came at the worst possible time, too. She had a meeting with the Council and she'd rather not limp in there. Explaining the Sith sighting was hard enough, but to do it on an injured foot was nearly unthinkable.
Rylann set her foot on the ground, testing her weight on it. She left her drink on the other side of the ship and was getting parched just thinking about the Council. Though they were beginning to trust her, it was exhausting keeping up the act of Old Tally. Even when she ran into Old Tally, the woman was surprised by Rylann's professionalism.
"Rylann, no!" Crosshair said as he entered the med bay of the ship where she was resting.
"Rylann, yes!" she retorted, snatching the bottle of water off of the counter but stumbled forward when her leg gave out.
Luckily, Crosshair (being the best boyfriend ever) was there to catch her. Worry was etched in his eyes. "Hon, we need you alive and walking."
"And I am able to do both," Rylann said, flinching as pain shot through her ankle. "Mostly."
"So we need you to rest so you can eventually live and run," he said. His hand on her back guided her carefully back to where she had been sitting in the chair on the opposite wall. He helped her sit down before kneeling in front of her. "Please rest."
Rylann met his dark brown eyes, her hand making its way to his face. He leaned into her touch. "I will, Cross."
"Well then," he whispered, standing up to place a kiss on her forehead. "I'll hold you to it."
He tried to walk off, but Rylann snatched his sleeve, pulling him back. "Only a forehead kiss?"
Crosshair looked around before turning back to her. "Alright, mesh'la." He leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips. She leaned into it, wrapping her arms around his neck as she stood on her one good foot. "Be careful, my love," he whispered, breaking away to look down at her. He searched her eyes before taking a step back, brows furrowing. "What's bothering you?"
Rylann sighed, plopping back down to sit. "You know me too well."
Crosshair pulled out a toothpick, leaning on the wall beside her chair. "Spill."
"With this meeting coming up, I just realized how exhausting it is to keep faking it." She looked down at her hands, all rough and calloused from the years of training with the saber. "I do so much to maintain an image and do things for everyone else. This—you and me—is the only thing I've really done for me, and I feel like I have to walk on eggshells." Crosshair frowned. "Not because of you but because of the rules. The code. All this bantha crap."
Crosshair swiveled the toothpick in his mouth, looking down at her. "Someone needs to shove it up their faces."
