Smile

Touch 1.

Her feet were small, bare, one resting on top of the other, peeking out from beyond the bottom edge of her blanket.

They lay still, save for the moments when her toes curled or she tried to raise them up under the thin blanket draped over her body. Ahsoka slept, and he watched, and resisted, until he decided he couldn't anymore, and, very slowly, he lowered a hand and placed it lightly on her uppermost foot.

He checked her face, still tense even in sleep. Her eyes were closed, even after he made contact with her skin, dark lashes resting on her cheeks. His hand eased, relaxing slowly, though he kept the contact light to keep from waking her. Rex let his fingers curl into her arch, and his thumb ran faintly across the delicate skin on the top of her foot, tracing the thin bones and patterns of veins beneath. The soles of her feet were slightly paler than they were on top, sepia rather than sienna. At her ankle, just below where her leggings ended, he could see the pale white tip of a marking; a mere point from this angle, he could not tell what shape or design curved further upward.

He let his one hand rest there, warming her feet and reassuring himself, while the other touched his blaster, resting on his other side. It was cold, but not too cold. The rain that drizzled during the whole of the day had ended a few hours ago, but it was still an aching, chilly humidity that hung in the air. The small fire they'd built did little to stave off the temperature, but it at least provided some measure of light that they had to themselves. There were others in the warehouse turned refugee camp, and here and there Rex could see the dancing of fires, or of shadows passing between them.

Six weeks, tomorrow. Six weeks since the Republic died, and their lives with them.

He brushed his thumb lightly over the surface of her skin again, feeling the softness of the top, and the harder calluses that rimmed the blade of her foot. Her toes were small and fine, though the largest ones seemed to lean inward slightly. Rex checked her face again, to make sure she was still sleeping, to see if her expression had eased any. This time, he found a pair of sky blue eyes, open, watching him in silence.

For a moment, he didn't move. He couldn't read her face. Usually so expressive, so vital, Ahsoka had grown quiet once the chaos of the first few days ended. She was not sullen; only silent. Now, she merely looked at him, her face unmoving, her eyes indicating neither acceptance nor rejection. She'd become something almost eerie, since their flight began. Touching her almost felt like he could tether her to one place, keep her from drifting off somewhere in the Force while she sought survivors through Jedi ways he didn't fully understand.

He removed his hand, but did not look away. She did not move, but she did open her mouth and say, quietly, "It's okay, Rex."

He stayed still. So did she. Her face was dirty from all the walking in the rain they'd done that day. The fan shapes on her cheeks were more grey than white. He returned his hand to her foot, just as lightly as before, running his knuckles over her skin, from her ankle down to her toes. Ahsoka closed her eyes for a moment, breathing softly. He moved his hand to the lower foot, letting his fingers trail.

She stirred, and he pulled away, setting his hand onto his knee. Ahsoka sat up, pushing herself forward and tucking her legs between them as she resettled the blanket around her shoulders. Huddled together, she picked up his hand in hers and ran her thumbs over the back of it, before she lowered it back down onto her feet. They were cool, but warmer now than they were a few minutes ago. She trailed her fingers over his wrist, then pressed slightly, encouraging him. He let his hand curl around one foot again, and she leaned forward, her knees pressing into his side. Half her face was lit from the dull fire; the other half was cast in shadow. Both her eyes still seemed bright, even if they lacked vitality.

She searched his face for something, one hand coming up to run across one unshaven cheek. The sound of her fingers brushing across two week old beard was rough, bristly. He looked away, but she didn't let him move his face. "It's okay, Rex," she repeated, and the words drew his attention back to her.

Leaning in, he watched as her face moved past him, upward, bringing her throat and collarbones up to his eye level. Chapped, slightly moistened lips were pressed tenderly against his forehead, just above his brows, and they lingered there. He closed his eyes and shivered at the contact. She drew back a bit, only to press her forehead against his cheek. Then, again, very softly, "It's okay, Rex."

The hand that was not already touching her left its' place on his blaster, and moved haltingly upward, until they reached her collarbone. He ran his fingers across it, feeling the thinness of the skin there, and the hard, delicate bone underneath. She shivered as he reached the hollow of her throat, a finger dipping into it before moving slowly upward, along the front of her neck, then the side. He felt her swallow, could see the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, could feel that breath on his face.

It was barely a kiss. Little more than a lingering touch of one set of lips on another, he placed his mouth on hers. When he pulled away, her eyes were closed, her head slightly bowed. They stayed that way for a little while, simply breathing, each of them touching and being touched.

Her lips curled upward, just a tiny bit, and Rex slowly let out a breath. She opened her eyes. They weren't full of energy, the way they used to be, but they were expressive, heavy, and there was a warmth there which was, for the past six weeks, absent. She ran her hand down his cheek.

"I think I'll be awake awhile. You should rest instead."

He didn't move, not for several long moments. Then he ran his hand back down her neck, over a lekku, over her shoulder and down her arm, wrapping his fingers around it. She was wiry, and though her arms were thin, they were all muscle. Ahsoka was stronger than she appeared. The thought made him smile a little. "Will you be warm enough?"

Her smile was soft, shy but also just a little mischievous. "I think so." Ahsoka slipped the tattered blanket from around her shoulders and wrapped it around Rex. "Sleep. I'll watch over you for awhile." She moved her hands to his shoulders, pulling him forward rather than pushing him back. Her feet slid out from under his hand as she refolded her legs, crossing them before tugging him forward again.

Puzzled, he propped himself up a few inches above her lap and looked at her again, questioningly. She placed a hand on his forehead and pressed, coaxing him down. Rex lay there, stiffly for several moments, until Ahsoka began to run her fingers through the short growth of his hair, slow but steady.

Her touch was soothing. The blanket and the fire offered little warmth, but he felt warm nonetheless.

Content, he closed his eyes and slept.

I love writing Rexsoka sometimes.

Thoughts?

~Queen