We sat together eating, out of bed for once and actually at a table, albeit the table was barely large enough for two people half our size, let alone both of us. He didn't talk much, and I wasn't sure what to say past the general when will we get there and it's cold in here.

Honestly, talking had never been my forte. I'd worked as a gem miner on Habii for a few seasons, and thanks to the sparse number of people who actually enjoyed the solitary work, I'd had little to no deep conversations for months.

Ever since I'd been outlawed as a Roamer, other Chiss I possibly happened upon were quick to make it known just what a shame to my race I was. They couldn't give it a break that the age-old Chiss lifestyle wasn't for me, and even more, they couldn't understand why I'd turned down the sappy representative's son's traditional proposal.

Unlike this absolute image of a male sitting across from me, the representative's son had been sucking on a kyber spoon since birth, and thanks to his Jedi predisposition, he thought he was a gift to space-kind from the Force itself.

Not that Mando was attractive by most standards, but Force, he had a way of saying nothing and capturing every ounce of my attention. Maybe it was because the same hands he was using to eat had touched me hours ago, and I didn't think he'd washed them since.

That should have been disgusting, but whenever he managed to have legitimate sex, I wasn't planning to wash myself from the inside out.

I nearly choked on the ration bar, but my stomach hadn't settled since I'd fallen asleep on his rock-hard chair and woken up on the floor with a scrap of a blanket draped on my legs. It didn't help that I hadn't used the fresher all morning-or whatever time it was-and I was still slick between the legs.

As I wondered if he knew what I'd been doing, I didn't do anything to show it, just tried to swallow the last few bites and finish it off with a large draft of water. The water didn't really help-it seemed thinner than the water I was used to-but I wanted to live through the trip, and I needed something to make my stomach not feel so feather-light.

He finally looked up and I was looking back at him, picking something out of my teeth while doing so and not realizing it until his entire bank of attention was honed onto me and my very embarrassing pose of two fingers prying at my mouth.

But the thought of mouths just reminded me of his, then my mind wandered to just what he could do with that mouth if he ever gained a shred of confidence and decided to use it.

"What?" I coughed out, extricating my fingers before taking another small drink.

"Nothing," he murmured, and my heartbeat somehow moved to the center of my chest, throbbing there and making my stomach feel ten times emptier than it had at first.

"So what would you be doing if I wasn't here?' I asked, desperate to make him say something that would interrupt my mind.

He cocked his head, hair mussed from sleep and probably never seeing anything but scissors when it was time for a trim. Not even a comb. "Eating," he said plainly, making the chair seem comfortable as he kicked back, the fabric of his tunic looking incredibly soft and worn. "Sleeping."

"Nothing else?"

"No."

Even I wasn't sure what I was fishing for, but when his eyes dropped to where my shirt sagged between my breasts, I knew he was lying. He was so used to the helmet, he'd forgotten to hide his tells.

My throat tensed, and if I'd have stuffed a ball of fabric down it, it couldn't have been tighter. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell him I was the finest meal he'd ever taste, that my breasts were the softest place he'd ever sleep, but nothing came out. Not even the squeak of a question about when he'd use his full end of the marriage bargain or a snarky remark about his sleep-heavy eyes.

I finally looked away, but he'd have been right at home, staring forever as seemed natural for him. His eyes probably took in every detail of a battle situation at once, mind sorting and cataloging each important piece of information, but discarding the rest. He would know exactly where his enemies stood, how far away he was from each, and the quickest way to dispatch of them.

But not me. If his eyes had said anything, they asked who the hell I was and why I was so difficult for him to understand. I'd have bet any woman he held a sexual interest for struck him the same way, and the mother of his child probably did so far more than I.

But then it didn't matter now. Whoever she had been, she hadn't held his attention forever, or perhaps he hadn't held hers. I hadn't considered she might have left him with their child, fed up with the violent, wandering lifestyle of a bounty hunter until now, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Another woman at all complicated things, because ultimately she was my rival, but a child meant it wouldn't even be a rivalry. The child would outweigh me on any occasion if this Mandalorian held any level of decent principal.

He pushed himself away from the table, imperfect body tense through the back and right arm as he stood. "We're nearly two days away. Touch anything but the cockpit controls."

"What's the little hammock?" I blurted, dying to know if this child was still around, alive, present in any way.

"Like we established," he murmured, "meaningless questions."

But his fists tightened, and as he left the room, I could have sworn he murmured something harsh in a language I didn't recognise.

- Hey you readers! So thanks to a guest commenting asking for four (4!) new chapters, there are two new chapters up! I am seriously fueled by you guy's reviews and asking for more. It's literally the only reason I posted this week, even though I had a chapter ready. Hope y'all enjoy! Gap year seriously rocks, btw!-