7 / 帅 !

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CHIRRUT FELT AS IF HE WAS BREATHING A NEW KIND OF AIR. After just days in the temple ( and getting his ass kicked by Baze, who was currently by his side ), the streets felt different.

Perhaps it was the garbs that he was wearing -- the standard red Guardian trainee robes -- or, for the first time in his life, he was the one standing up while the streets where filled with people grovelling on their knees. Baze was bristling, his back ramrod straight as he stalked through the crowds, on full alert.

Chirrut wasn't sure if he liked different.

"Chirrut," a person called, and he practically glows, a smile spreading on his face. He'd recognize that voice in any rocky current of sound.

"Mei," Chirrut turns around, and before him, stands an old lady, her cane wobbling in front of her, as she looked up, peering at Chirrut's face in the sunlight.

"I haven't seen you in so long, boy, come here," Mei gestured for Chirrut to lean down, and he got down on his knees. Mei's hands went to his face, gently brushing over the planes of his features, flattening his hair as she gave him a warm smile. "It's been forever."

Chirrut laughs. "I saw you on Tuesday, Mei."

"It's eons at my age," Mei chortled, "Just you wait."

Baze reappeared by Chirrut's side, almost panicked. "Chirrut, I thought I lost you -- " Baze's voice fell as he noticed Mei standing by Chirrut. The lady squints at Baze and then grins, elbowing Chirrut and waggling her eyebrows.

"他很帅," Mei commented, rubbing a hand down Baze's arm, almost flirtatiously. Baze smiled, amused.

"谢谢," Baze replied smoothly, and Mei grinned even wider.

"A handsome man in Jedha who speaks Mandarin," Mei chirped, "When are you two getting married?"

Chirrut's face turned bright red, and Baze broke out into a fit of coughs.

"Mei," Chirrut attempted to explain, "he's my teacher."

"Whatever you say," Mei singsonged, and eventually she disappeared back into the crowd of people.

Chirrut sighed, shaking his head, a smile crossing his face. "Baze?"

"Yes?"

"Check your pockets," Chirrut stood up, dusting off his pants, "She just pickpocketed you."

His eyes widened, Baze quickly rummaging through his things. "Kriff! She's -- "

"Yeah," Chirrut said, "I know. Come on, let's go." He tugged at Baze's sleeve, pulling him in the direction of the hot springs.

"Okay," Baze followed his lead, "But tell your friend I want my money back."

Chirrut laughed. "I doubt she'd listen."

"So, she's like you then?"

Chirrut barked out a noise feigning laughter. "Look who's talking, Mr. I-Won't-Take-My-Medicine."

And suddenly, everything fell silent. Baze was hushed beside him, frozen. Did he do something wrong?

"Baze?"

"I'm here," Baze's hand gripped reassuringly around Chirrut's forearm. "Just not used to it."

"To what?"

"I believe you're the second person who knows that I have . . . that."

"Baze," Chirrut curled a finger around Baze's hand. "It's fine."

"No," he snapped, startling Chirrut. Chirrut let his hand fall. "No," Baze repeated, softer. "It's not like that."

"Well," he egged Baze further, "what is it like?"

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