Your words made him twitch. He finally pulled his knees to his chest, cradling the rifle to his chest. If he could melt through the walls, he would have tried. You pushed further, pressing a finger to the throbbing bruise that he spent so much of his life trying to cover. A broken bone that never set properly.
“Is this what you wanted for your life?” You asked after a moment. “Out here on some misbegotten planet, protecting some stranger . . . is this all you hoped for, what you dreamed of when you were a foundling?”
He turned his gaze to you.
“What else is there?”
In the silence that stretched out between you, in between the moans of the bantha, the lothcat appeared again, meowing, and slipped out from the shadows.
I am genuinely so so so excited to share this one! It's a Western first, and a Star Wars second -- set about 10 years before the events of season 1. This was actually the first fic I started writing for the PPCU but it got to be much bigger than I could chew. But I'm hoping to use this for Nanowrimo and finally finish the bastard!