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sinfulsalutations · 1 year

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𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥��𝕔𝕙

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴛᴇᴄʜ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ꜱʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ. ꜱʜᴇ'ʟʟ ʟᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʙʟᴀʙ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɪᴛꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ, ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴄᴜᴛᴇꜱʏ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ (ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ)ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ, ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀɪᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇꜱʜᴇʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀᴅʜᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀʟᴋꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 2.4ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴛ. ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄʀɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ɪ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀꜱᴛ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍꜱ. ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ, ɪ ꜰɪʀᴍʟʏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ɪꜱ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʙʙ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴏɴ ʜɪᴀᴛᴜꜱ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍꜱ. ɪᴅᴋ ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴅᴏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ :)

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

It’s suffocating.

Everything is too much, not stimulating enough, too little, too... everything. She's cradling herself like a baby, a whiny little kid, grasping herself, gripping it with sharp nails, leaving deep, deep marks all over her skin. The claustrophobic air cages her in, she is trapped, she is trying to escape, and now it taints her.

But maybe she’s just overreacting. That must be it. That’s why she feels stupid and silly. Like a little kid stomping their foot when they don't get their way. Being dramatic over little things. Just little things she's upset about; little, little, minuscule things that had piled up, slowly until it was too much. It's too much. It's all so much that she's so little, so small in her own arms pressed up against the `fresher wall, barely able to hold herself up with wobbly knees as she cries.

Silently. So so silently.

She can’t be a burden. It would be insultingly rude, to put that responsibility of her happiness on the people letting her stay on their ship. Clone Force 99 is incredibly hospitable to her. Too kind. They gave her a cot and food, company and kindness in exchange for her expertise in medicine. She is an asset. She is useful. And when she isn't?

That, she can't be certain. Not everyone is the same, she knows that. But she won't risk it. Not when she's become attached to their little family. Hunter is always endlessly caring, even if she is closer to a stranger than family to him. Wrecker immediately took a liking to her, even if she did have a softer voice and disposition. It took Echo a little longer to warm up to her, but enough restless nights for the both of them to talk about their lives before joining the batch had brought the two as close as she was with the rest. And she simply adored Omega; from her curiosity and optimism, even to her brash stubbornness.

And Tech... she couldn't imagine a day not getting to see his face, hear him talk about anything and everything he has learned and studied. His voice was another form of remedy. Perhaps it might help with this frustration...

Knowing all of this, she won't take a chance at losing it. She wants to stay somewhere, for once. She's not going to kriff it up this time.

She tries to bottle it up. She sniffles once, twice, before grabbing a dry towel and dabbing it in water, softly wiping away at her tears in the mirror until her reddened cheeks blend nicely with the rest of her complexion. Once she feels fully satisfied with the way she looks, she blinks away any remaining water droplets that litter her eyelashes like raindrops on leaves and tries her best to smile in the mirror.

Everything is okay, she thinks. It’ll be fine.

She’s still relieved, however, that most of the batch isn’t currently on the ship. Usually, she would have gone off to Cid's and maybe grab a drink before listening, as always, to what the smart little trooper had to say. Hunter has caught on and began leaving the two in their strange, dorky little bubble tucked into a little booth, her open ears and his excited chatter.

Today, the only person who didn't go back to Cid's (or to chomp on Mantell Mix) is her and Tech, who works on damage inflicted on the outside of the Marauder. They've just got back from a rather chaotic attempt to retrieve some goods from a back-alley planet Cid sent them to. Wrecker was able to secure the crates, but not without a gang of pirates firing old-fashioned arrows in his direction until they tore at the exterior and into the inner mechanics of the ship. And as usual, Tech insisted to stay back and fix it all by himself (You all could have the rest, he said).

She wouldn’t say she was most particularly fond of Tech, but that would be a bald-faced lie; she loved all of the boys like they were her brothers. Though, perhaps with him it is different. Just perhaps. Perhaps, right? Unless it was more- kriff, it probably is.

Especially ever since she saw him without his goggles for the first time; she was able to see that hue of brown that colored his eyes so well. He was rubbing his eyes and yawning as he went to clean them, and he hadn’t even noticed her ogling eyes from a few feet away. Omega certainly did. And asked her about it the next chance she got.

“Do you like Tech?”

When she didn't respond, she only kept nagging.

"You do like Tech, don't you?"

"That's why you like to look at him so much, right?"

Yeah. She loves the kid, but her endless questions did end up getting to her. So Omega might have given her a cheeky look when she said she was going to stay back as well. Oh, if that was the only reason she had decided not to come along with the rest.

But it all leads to right now, admiring him from afar while leaning against the open ramp. It takes him a moment to notice, still very focused on the task at hand, on his knees in front of an open panel and he quickly turns, blinking rapidly in succession and in surprise.

“Oh-” He begins, before quickly clearing his throat and continuing, acting less shocked than before. He adds her name quickly in before, and treads so lightly on it too, as if he was unsure if he was allowed to call her by that. “Hello. I forgot you stayed back.”

She chuckles lightly and walks closer to where he worked, watching his clever and dexterous fingers move swiftly.

“So I’m that quiet?”

He shrugs.

“You can be swift when it requires you to be,” He observes, finally looking up into her eyes. The look he gives her, one of full undivided attention, makes her heart miss a couple of notes on the staff. He continues without noticing her hitched breath. “But I wouldn’t say you are… quiet .”

She grins, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes are still heavy with the remnants of her tears.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, leaning back onto the Marauder and sighing, her eyes fluttering close. She tries to relax, really does, but it's hard to when Tech was right there. He still watches her and stills completely, as if he was trying to pinpoint the exact feeling on her face. “Do you mind if I just sit here?” She finally asks, eyes still closed.

With that, Tech blinks again, quickly composing himself and looking away once she opens her eyes again to appear as though he hasn’t been staring at her. He nods.

“Of course.”

She hums sweetly like a hummingbird in response and tries to get more comfortable, slowly sliding down until her bottom promptly hits the floor and she is level with his crotch, as he still kneels to gain access to the inside of the ship. And she watches for just a little, the only noise filling their bubble the noise of fuses and bolts twisting and loosening, the occasional clang of two pieces of metal here and there, even a long strenuous creak from the larger panel dismantled. He doesn't talk. She doesn't talk.

It might be quite boring in any other situation, one where she isn't feeling so helplessly overworked and burned out, or in general to any other person in her shoes, but it feels so calming just to watch. To observe and not have to react. Just be without any strings attached. His presence is calming. It’s fascinating. When she just watches him, it is uncomplicated. It is simple and it is good.

Though it isn’t enough. Something in her itches. She thinks it is physical, and she readjusts her seating position a few times, and fumbles, but it doesn’t seem to work exactly. Tech turns to her.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks.

She nods.

“Yeah, nothing to worry about,” She reassures him, and he nods accordingly.

“Good. If you need anything, please let me know,” He finishes before going back to his work. And when the talking stops completely, replaced with the crackling sounds of fizzling electricity, she realizes what feels off about the moment.

“Tech?” She starts shaky, gazing up at him slightly worried. Tech stops completely; his hands drop and he tilts his head. He lifts up his visor to look at her better, and the simple act makes her bite back a grin. “Would you tell me something?”

At first, he just stands there, confused. His head tilts even further and makes sure to confirm.

“You, want me to talk?”

She looks at him perplexed and huffs in disbelief.

“I do,” She states simply.

"About what?" He probes further.

She shrugs.

"Anything you want. I just want to hear your voice."

He’s still confused as he looks at her through the yellow-tinted goggles. No, less confused, and more surprised. Tech turns away for a moment, trying to process the moment. A pretty girl wants him to talk… just talk about anything. And she wants to listen. Listen to what he’s been told over and over again his useless information regarding niche subjects and fields of study. He’s always seen her interest in what he’s said, yes, but he's just assumed it is common decency to listen to what someone is saying. He’s not used to his brothers actually tuning in and seeming actually interested in what he has to say. But she is. And she wants him to say more.

He always has something more to say. But now, looking back to her barely parted, pretty lips and her thoughtful eyes… Tech draws a blank.

He turns away again, fumbling with the task at hand as he tries to distract himself from it, still trying to conjure up something, anything to say to her. And she still waits, unphased by his hesitant silence as she methodically raps the pads of her fingers against her wrist. She sits as if she has all the time in the world. And if it were up to her, she would give him that.

He finally thinks of one small anecdote to share.

“... I read a fascinating historical document this morning," he says. She perks up brightly, eyes lighting up with excitement as he begins.

“You did?” She says.

He nods in confirmation. The coy smile matched with tied lips she wears across her face is undeniable; even he can see it in the corner of his eye as he works. He tries not to let it get to his head.

“Can you tell me more?” she continues.

Tech hisses so quietly, the modulator under his helmet doesn’t pick it up. Thank the Maker for that.

“... It was the first recording of our modern republic system,” He does his best to recall what the document was about. “Or, what the Republic was, at least.” He looks over quickly for reassurance that this is what she wanted from him; he sees her nodding eagerly and intrigued. Oh, that only excites him more. He begins to remember more pieces of what he read once he turns away and back to the wiring in front of him, talking to her as he works. He even tries his best to slow down his pace to make it easier for her to process and understand better; though, he was unsure if it was the content that intrigued her more or simply his presence.

“The document was essentially half-transcript, half-commentary on the first galaxy-wide meetings in the Senate, and the new opinions surrounding it."

"Who wrote it?" She interjects. He blinks but doesn't tear his eyes away and toward her.

"A group of people. Transcribers from the conferences, a member of the Jedi Order, and a few prominent Coruscant state senators that oversaw them."

She hums, and from the corner of his eye, he sees her lean closer to him, sighing deeply and letting her eyes flutter as if she was breathing in the most serene scent, and not the smell of smoldering wires and oil. Perhaps in their bubble, if Tech were to take his helmet off and breathe in as well, it smells of roses.

"I cross-analyzed both sections; there weren't any higher conclusions recorded. But by using critical thinking, you can really piece together how disorderly the first few decades of the Republic were." He tries to keep working, but ends up fiddling more than actually working; if he were to complete the task, he'd be done much sooner than he wanted to; especially if it meant he'd have to stop talking to her and their bubble would pop.

"Senators of large Core planets had to try and keep the piece; many outside planets had doubts about the design and future of the Republic to be sound. And even from the beginning, there were rogue planets that refused to join entirely. I guess there were always a few ‘Separatists.’”

The comment makes her chuckle.

“That really is interesting, Tech.”

“It is! In fact I-” He begins before the realization hits him and it shuts his mouth promptly there. He looks at her, just as perplexed as she was before, but more laced with insecurity. “You… find this, interesting?”

She nods as if baffled by his question.

“If only you had me around before,” She says melancholic and softly. “I find all your interests really cool. And… I like hearing you talk.”

The admission has her flushing furiously, and Tech is too busy trying to compose himself to even kriffing notice.

“That is… good to know,” he manages to say, giving her an approving, stiff nod before going back to work. His roboticness manages to elicit a sweet giggle out of her, and she sighs into comfortable contentment as he continues talking.

Her heart soars as he keeps going on, even without her explicit request. Even if she isn’t ready to talk, or even tell him about what is going on yet, hearing him gush about his interests certainly simplifies everything in a way that perfectly fills their little world, and makes everything better for as long as they stay.

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