Not a Chance (Boba Fett x reader) COMPLETE

Chapter Nine

The outpost was filled with rough looking men and women. The smell of fuel, alcohol, and filth seeped over the town like a mist. It also had a layer of smog hovering over it and at that moment I was actually greatful for the scarf Boba gave me. As I pulled the mouth cover higher up my nose I swore I heard Boba laugh slightly under his helmet. I glared at him through the slit of the scarf and followed close behind Boba as he walked off the ramp into the crowd. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I pulled my bag closer to my body as I followed Boba throw the crowd, now it was time to put my plan into motion. First I would follow Boba for a while, then I would slowly drift off. After making sure Boba was positive I was still following him I'd slip away and run for it. It seemed pretty flawless in my head, now it was time to see if it would work or not.

Boba walked threw the crowd, people seeming to constantly keeping an eye on him. They all seemed to part away slightly, letting him walk threw without bumping into him. If they weren't paying attention, Boba wouldn't go around or move, he'd simply put a hand on their shoulder and gently move them out of the way. I saw a few people shoot around to yell at the person who'd dare move them or touch them, but they would quickly shut their mouths and look down once they saw the green Mandalorian. It amazed me. That one man could hold such power over those he'd never met. He didn't have to speak or motion to anything to get exactly what he wanted out of these people. Just his presence made them anxious and jittery, doing everything they could to not upset the feared hunter. I started to fantasize what it would feel like to have this power. To make people respect you without personally knowing you. To not have them look at you like a lowlife or with a hunger in their eyes. To get the feeling of power instead of submission and fear. But my fascinations were torn by realization of how Boba got this power. Fear. Intimidation. Being ruthless. Being the most effective and deadliest bounty hunter in the galaxy. A man rumored to battle Darth Vader and survive. A man who hunts for fun. A killer.

Anger bubbled inside me as I watched my captor in front of me. His confident stride, the way he seemed to know exactly how no one dared defy him. I smirked to myself as that last thought came to me. Well, almost everyone. I thought as I slowed my pace down, watching as the space between me and the Mandalorian steadily grew larger. As soon as I felt as though Boba was far enough away, I quickly turned to the left into the crowded streets.

My pace was even, but hurried. I dared not to bump into anyone and made an effort to go around people when I could. Unlike Boba, I have no influence over these people, and I could easily anger them. My palms started to sweat under the death grip I had on my duffle bag. My breathing quicked as I looked over my shoulder to no longer see the chipped green armor. Now was the time to disappear.

I slowed down momentarily, matching pace with those around me. My eyes shot around, taking in every little detail. Little shops cluttered the edge of the road. Shopkeepers shouting at people to buy their products, the inaudible chatter of the crowd, and muffled music from bars and clubs. I pulled down the fabric from face and thought of something. I need to get rid of this thing. I quickly unwrapped the fabric from my head, shaking my (h/c) locks free from their containment. I wadded up the black scarf and shoved it into my bag. I risked another look behind me to see if Boba had noticed if I was gone or not, but he was no where to be seen. I took it as a good sign and kept walking forward.

The deeper I walked into the grungy city, the more a deep pit formed in my stomach. I would notice a few people staring at me, even pointing at me a few times. I'd have to remind myself to remain calm or I would probably give myself up. Now I understood what Boba meant when he said that I wasn't "low profile". The people who lived here did remind me of the ones at Jabba's palace. Dirty, ruff, and criminal. Their eyes watching you like a hound watches a wounded animal. A shiver made it's way through me, making the hairs on my neck and arms stand up. Adrenaline pushed it's way into my veins, causing me to look frantically for a cover from the prowling eyes of the streets. That was probably the only benefit of Boba Fett. No matter who it was, I could easily hide behind him and they'd back off.