88. "Look at me." for Thaston/Kaliyo? c:
88. “look at me.” | swtor. thaston/kaliyo djannis. 632 words.
“...even listening to me?”
A sharp ache tore through their waist as Thaston jolted awake, blinking away their drowsiness to focus on their surroundings, remembering that they had been seated in the co-pilot’s chair on the ship with Kaliyo flying them to report on what had transpired at the Star Cabal’s hideout. The adrenaline had given way to bone-weary exhaustion at some point, must have let them doze off to the hum of the hyperdrive as they slouched in their seat, only for Kaliyo to rudely smack a hand against their ribs that were still sore from Corellia.
Slowly, they eased themself upright again. “What?”
“I said we’re coming out of hyperspace.” Kaliyo paused to flip some of the glowing switches spread before them. “Last chance to cut and run, if you actually want to play this smart.”
Tendrils of dread clawed at their insides as the hyperspace lines faded and replaced with stars, revealing the station where the remnants of Intelligence had taken refuge, and they hated how familiar that fear had become. Facing the people who had ordered the control over them, having to pretend that it didn’t bother them? That was the last thing that they wanted to do.
Especially after the deal that Thaston had just made with Ardun Kothe.
Kaliyo wasn’t stupid. She had left the room for them to talk, but she heard the initial offer, and she had to know that Thaston had brokered an arrangement to be a double agent for real this time. And they were certain that she didn’t care for it as much as she hated their work for the Empire, too. She had made it perfectly clear with a proposition to disappear and take up some jobs somewhere far away from this shitstorm by the time they passed through the airlock.
(Not that it was the first time that Kaliyo had ever offered for them to run away with her. But this time, they wondered when they might actually give into the idea. The looming station in the distance certainly tempted them to go for it).
Thaston stared at their shaking blue hand, opting to fold their arms over their chest to stop it. “You don’t have to stick around.”
A few years ago, Kaliyo probably would’ve snapped at them, arguing that they were trying to run on her. But now, she simply shrugged. “Not like I have anywhere else I need to be.”
“By which you mean that you still haven’t drained my bank account of all my credits yet, right?”
“Our bank account. Except when you’re an asshole, then it’s mine.” Kaliyo stretched languidly in her seat, pale arms reaching across their peripheral. “Making use of that fancy bed in the captain’s quarters isn’t too bad either.”
They shook their head and huffed a laugh, but something about the comment brought a pang to their chest. Still, though, they were grateful for the familiarity of banter with Kaliyo, and the occasional distraction that she provided when neither of them had anything else going on in their private lives, grounding them to reality despite everything.
“Hey. Look at me,” Kaliyo demanded.
Thaston turned to her, blinking slowly. The ship was closing in on the station. The beacon flared to life as the station hailed them for clearance codes to land in the docking bay. Kaliyo stared for a prolonged moment rather than answering it, her gray eyes searching them for something.
“Are we going through with this?”
We. The subtle reminder that maybe, just maybe, she did have their back in spite of all the posturing that she was going to take their credits and run as soon as she grew bored was enough to steel their resolve.
Thaston swallowed around the lump in their throat. “Yeah. We are.”
