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enigmaticexplorer · 8 months ago

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I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter XIII

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General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers.

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 6.2K

6 Yelona

Attraction wasn’t something Kazi experienced from physical appearance.

Obviously, she appreciated the physicality of certain men—the proportions of their body, certain features, healthy fat distribution. She knew physically attractive men existed.

However, true attraction, for her, followed a set of steps.

The first step: respect. Even the most physically attractive man lost all appeal if he was neither respectful nor respectable. A man who proved himself worthy of her respect—who demonstrated integrity, honesty, reliability—was a man she could then trust.

Thus, the second step.

It was trust that quieted the logical part of her brain and allowed her to access the emotional side. Only then could she determine a man’s attractiveness.

As was her current dilemma.

Frozen between the partition of the living area and the sunroom, Kazi blinked at the sight before her. Specifically the half-naked man in her kitchen.

Damp from her shortened swim—menstrual cramps forced her to quit the lake early—she didn’t know what to do.

In the kitchen, Wolffe was preparing the lumina berries. The same berries she had prepared for months before he decided to intercede. They hadn’t discussed it. Each morning, when she retrieved the individual bowls of sliced and chunked berries, she didn’t question their prepared state and Wolffe pretended nothing was amiss.

Something about the situation felt significant. So Kazi ignored it.

Except she couldn’t ignore it in this moment. Because her damn cramps had deviated her from her meticulously-structured routine.

Now she not only had confirmation Wolffe was the perpetrator of the prepared berries, but she also learned something new: He worked in the kitchen shirtless.

His physical state was hardly a problem. The main level was a shared space, and he clearly had his own morning routine separate from their brief overlap. He was allowed to exist in the kitchen in whatever physical capacity he felt comfortable.

But she hadn’t expected him to be shirtless.

Consternation twisted alongside her worsening cramps.

Maybe she should wait on the back porch for twenty minutes and then return when she was expected. They could continue to pretend that he didn’t prepare the berries—

“Ennari?”

Fuck.

Pretending she hadn’t stood beneath the partition for minutes debating whether or not she should hide outside, Kazi approached the kitchen. Wolffe observed her through narrowed eyes, arms folded across his chest. The moment she reached the bar—their positions switched from their usual routine—he glanced at the chrono on the wall. His shoulders stiffened slightly.

“I couldn’t swim any longer,” Kazi said. Her tone carried an apologetic note and she nearly rolled her eyes. They were adults; they could discuss the berry situation maturely.

Beneath the intensity of his gaze, her face felt warm. Too warm.

She decided she didn’t want to discuss the berry situation.

“I think I’m going to go into work earlier.” She played with the tucked flap of her towel. “I’ll take off early so Neyti can see the beginning of the Festival. Fehr said it’s something kids like.”

Wolffe leaned against the counter, the move unhurried and just as effortless as his appearance. Her eyes flitted down his body in a quick assessment.

“Do you want me to take Neyti to school?”

Healthy fat padded his stomach muscles. Dark hair trailed from his lower stomach to his gray sweats. Lines cut into his hips.

“Ennari.”

“You want to take Neyti to school?” she said slowly.

The corner of his lip twitched. “That’s what I said.”

She frowned. “Why would you do that?”

“You said you’re going into work early.” An arrogant smirk curved his mouth. Amusement lit his features. “Are you feeling alright? Temperature too warm?”

Throwing him a bland look, she nodded at the berries. “Why do you prepare those every morning?”

Former amusement darkened into discomfort. A muscle flexed in his jaw and Wolffe stilled, a subtle warning in his face.

“I’m more than capable of preparing breakfast for Neyti and myself,” she added.

A taunt underscored her blasé tone, and Wolffe breathed a low chuckle. He ran his tongue along his teeth, regarding her with a calculated look that made her blood heat.

“Answer my question,” he finally said. “Do you want me to take Neyti to school?”

She rubbed her arm. “If you don’t mind—”

“I don’t.”

“Thank you.” She tilted her head to the side, quirking an eyebrow. “Now answer my question.”

“No.” Wolffe turned away, retrieving the knife he had set aside, and concentrated on the lumina berries.

Kazi glowered at the sculpted planes of his back.

Muscles lined his shoulders and arms. Muscles that spoke to years of arduous training. His back was a map of physical adeptness sketched with an array of white and faded scars. Black ink encircled his left arm from wrist to shoulder, its design purposeful.

“Why not?” she demanded. “Maybe I should make your caf and see how you like my interference—”

“Drop it.”

Wolffe scowled at her over his shoulder. The muscles along his body were tensed, and he exhaled a harsh breath, setting aside the knife and closing the space between them. He stopped before her.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. Droplets of water fell from her hair and shivered down her overheated skin.

Lowering his face to hers, Wolffe calmly, quietly said, “You’re not ready for that conversation.”

With that, he sidestepped her and approached the bookcase.

Bewildered, she stared at his retreating body. “What does that even mean?” He ignored her and she scoffed. “You can’t just leave in the middle of a conversation—”

The white, peeling bookcase snapped back in place. Her dragon figurine, its scales blacker than a stormy night, regarded her, its maw parted in a teasing grin, like it shared in a secret she didn’t yet know.

Early evening sunlight emphasized the charcoal lines of Neyti’s sketch.

The scratching noise of the little girl’s stylus filled the silence of the main level. Wiping down the kitchen’s counters—a last-minute decision to try and calm her nerves concerning the upcoming Festival—Kazi washed her hands and then leaned against the counter.

From her vantage point, she watched Neyti sketch. Her tongue poked out the side of her mouth as she corrected the finer details of a young boy’s face.

Who the boy was, Kazi didn’t know. Though she had a sneaking suspicion based on the scar on his chin.

Her gaze slid to the kitchen windows. Outside, a downed tree rested along the jungle’s border. Fox had spent the entire afternoon felling the tree and then lugging it back to the house. Its purpose eluded Kazi, and he refused to answer her questions, but he seemed to have found a new project outside of his usual carvings.

A glance at the chrono confirmed it was still too early to leave for the Festival. Half an hour remained.

Originally, Kazi wanted to avoid the Festival’s festivities and locals. Years had passed since she last attended a holiday celebration and she wasn’t keen to begin anew. Large crowds, drunk people, tight spaces. It lacked appeal.

But a majority of the locals would attend, including Neyti’s classmates, and Kazi wanted Neyti to experience something outside the mundane of everyday life. Even if these festivities differed from Ceaian tradition.

Still, she found herself rubbing her clammy palms together to stifle her apprehension. This was an opportunity to socialize. To interact with Neyti’s classmates’ parents and make a good impression, an impression that would reflect positively on Neyti.

The simple dress she wore—cream colored and decorated with abstract floral designs—was light and airy, its style recommended by Fehr to “blend in” with the locals. The thin material hugged her waist, falling to her upper thigh. She hadn’t worn a dress in a long time, and she had forgotten how much she liked them.

Then again, her first partner loved when she wore dresses. She was a body to be perceived. A younger body. A younger body for the male nearly two decades her senior to look at and touch and fuck—

Stiffening, Kazi glanced at the chrono again. They still had twenty-seven minutes until they needed to leave.

Running her hands down her dress, she decided its straps were too uneven. The left side was too tight. She untied the thin strings of her strap and readjusted.

The positioning was awkward, the readjustment difficult, and sweat started to slick her spine. Frustration clenched her jaw. She blew a loose strand of hair from her face. A finishing bow completed the knot.

The damned strings remained uneven. She tried again.

Her appearance tonight mattered—professional yet friendly, more easy-going than aloof. She needed to be composed, a good listener with witty remarks. She needed to be warm and approachable. She needed to be perfect. And she should eat before so no one saw her—

The bookcase swung open.

Tensed and flustered, Kazi regarded Wolffe as he emerged from the steep stairs. Water shimmered in his dark curls and his face looked dewy, freshly moisturized from a shower. He wore his usual attire, and a dark gray poncho rested in the crook of his elbow.

Pausing her failed attempts, she glanced at his poncho. “Are you joining us?”

“Fox is paranoid with safety concerns.” Wolffe rolled his eyes. Kazi pursed her lips to smother her amusement, deciding against mentioning his blatant hypocrisy. “Cody and I agree he’s being unreasonable. We’re all going.”

“Oh.” A hint of relief quieted her former nerves. She looked him over. “Have you ever been to a Harvest Festival? Or any holiday celebration, for that matter?”

The corner of his lip quirked. “Never.”

Trying to casually correct her dress’ strings, she asked, “What holidays do you celebrate?”

“Dunno. It’s never crossed my mind before.”

The barest perceptible amusement dried his words. He took a step closer.

“By the way,” she said conversationally, hoping he didn’t notice her inability to fix her dress. “I stopped by the Marketplace and picked up a seedling fertilizer.”

Another step closer and Wolffe frowned. “Seedling fertilizer?”

“For your garden.” His confused silence demanded an answer and she shrugged. “I noticed some of your plants have dry patches so I asked one of the parents at Neyti’s school for advice. He’s a farmer, and he told me the problem most likely derives from the intensity of the sun’s rays. So he recommended this fertilizer. Like sunscreen, but for plants.”

Sometime from when she first started speaking to now, Wolffe had closed the distance between them. He stood as close as he had that morning. Close enough individual water droplets in his curls caught her attention.

Bemusement scrunched his features. “You got fertilizer for my garden?”

It was her turn to frown. “Yes?”

“I’m surprised you thought of me.” The confession was quiet, carrying an undertone of surprise and something softer. Wolffe searched her face and then dipped his chin to her shoulder. “May I?”

The rasp in his voice slid down her spine like a rough caress. Her nod derived mostly from shock at his offer rather than actual acceptance, and though they already stood so close, Wolffe closed the little distance remaining.

Warm knuckles grazed the top of her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat and she bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to keep still.

Wolffe looped the strings of her dress in a methodical approach. His movements were unhurried, intentionally slow, as if he were uncomfortable tying the strings. But she had seen him work in his garden, seen him slice the lumina berries, seen him fix things that required a careful, practiced touch. His fingers were deft in their capabilities, and he was more than capable in tying her dress.

Each skim of a knuckle to her bare shoulder heated her blood. She fought the urge to shiver.

“I can’t believe you’ve never celebrated any holidays,” she murmured.

His fingers stilled for a moment and then resumed. “We didn’t have that sort of luxury.”

Tensing at the curtness in his tone, she flattened her palm to the counter, soaking in its coolness. Wolffe sighed, his exhale somewhat annoyed. A slow, controlled caress of his hand brushed along her shoulder and behind her neck, as if he were trying to smooth away her tension.

Her fingers curled into the chilled counter.

“Holidays were meaningful to my family and me,” she said, watching the evening sunlight flit across the walls. “They’re some of my best memories with my parents. I can’t imagine growing up without them.”

“I didn’t have much of a childhood.”

“No, I guess you didn’t.”

A gentle tug and the white strings were tied, completed in a tiny bow matching the other. Prepared to thank him, Kazi turned around but her words faltered.

Their chests were brushing. The heat of his body sunk into hers. She could see a faded scar indented into the dark skin above his lip. The top clasps of his button-down work shirt were unfastened, and she thought back to that morning. Thought about the muscles toning healthy fat and the trail of dark hair down his stomach.

A fleeting desire encouraged her to press her hand to his chest. To feel the beat of his heart and the heat of his skin.

Ignoring the thought, she angled her head back to meet his gaze.

Thick lashes framed his eyes and he blinked at her, unrushed yet assessing. His gaze dipped from hers to her shoulder, hesitation lined his features, and she understood why a second later when he tentatively flattened his hand to her shoulder, his thumb circling her skin in an agonizingly slow caress. He studied her in a private, intimate manner.

Disquiet ghosted down her spine and she swallowed.

A piece of her wanted him to touch her more. To slip her dress’s straps from her shoulders and touch the bare skin it revealed.

A piece of her wanted him to lower his calloused hand to her breast and feel her. To slide his hands down her spine and hold her close, hold her tight enough she couldn’t run.

But another piece of her feared those wants.

Touching turned into nakedness, turned into sex, and sex hurt.

And even though it had been five years, she remembered the pain. She remembered her stupid hope it would feel better the more she did it, and the resigned agony when it didn’t.

She was scared to be intimate with another man, and she was even more scared of disappointing someone she wanted to be with.

It was all so stupid to consider, anyway.

There was nothing between her and Wolffe. She was overreacting. Creating a false narrative because she hadn’t felt a man’s touch like this before.

Wolffe brushed his thumb along her shoulder to her collarbone. His eyes shifted from hers, to her lips, and back.

All she could remember was the pain. The way her body never adjusted and the shame she endured knowing something was wrong with her—

“Neyti!”

Her exclamation earned a nonplussed jerk from Wolffe. Disregarding the confusion on his face and the silent question in the narrowing of his eyes, Kazi stepped away from his touch. From him. His fingers twitched once but he immediately released her. He backed away to the opposite counter, his expression guarded, and crossed his arms.

Kazi looked toward the table, to the little girl. To her salvation. Neyti stared curiously at her, and she mustered a tight smile.

“Do you want to get your gifts?”

A toothless yet excited grin lit Neyti’s face and she closed her sketchbook, hurrying toward the garage. Reemerging with a meshed bag, she cautiously approached Wolffe. He cocked his head to the side. A tiny hand disappeared into the bag and returned with a pale orange, tear-drop shaped fruit.

Wolffe considered the outstretched fruit. Hesitation lined his features but soon softened, and to Kazi’s surprise, he knelt before Neyti, the height difference between him and the little girl humorously noticeable.

With a small smile, he accepted the fruit, murmuring a quiet “Thank you.”

Bashfully, Neyti hid her face in her shoulder and retreated to Kazi’s side.

“It was Neyti’s idea,” Kazi said, running a hand through Neyti’s hair. Wolffe returned to his full height, peeling the fruit. He regarded her with a careful expression, and she tried not to blush. “It is tradition, after all.”

Either oblivious to the lie or uncaring of it, Neyti hefted the bag higher. Kazi released a mirthful chuckle and gestured for Neyti to lead the way outside. She pretended she didn’t see the knowing look Wolffe levelled on her—the look that clearly said It wasn’t the kid’s idea.

Outside, Kazi oversaw Neyti gift Fox, Cody, and Nova a citrus-star. Their confusion led to her retelling the tradition, and each of them shared a piece of their citrus-star with Neyti who dutifully ate her share.

The sun continued its downward arc, settling behind the jungle’s rolling hills, the sky a burnished copper.

Aware of the waning time, Kazi ushered everyone back inside. Neyti returned to her sketch while the men prepared for the Festival.

The brief lull gave Kazi the opportunity to check on Daria, her sister suffering a migraine. A symptom Healer Natasha claimed was normal for this stage. Still, she worried Daria’s lack of proper medication the last few months had accelerated her disease past a point of medicinal control.

Closed shades darkened Daria’s room. A handful of seconds passed as Kazi grew accustomed to the darkness, discerning her sister from the lump of bed sheets and quilt.

“Do you need any pain relief?” she asked softly, stepping next to the bed.

Lying on her side, staring vacantly at the opposite wall, Daria shook her head.

Kazi scanned her sister’s room, noting the new succulent she had gifted Daria. The plant was a random purchase from the Marketplace last week when she bought the citrus-stars.

A blue stem with a handful of dark purple blossoms, the tiny plant provided a splash of color among the dominantly green succulents. She was surprised her sister had grouped the new succulent with the others. Daria preferred aesthetic organization and the succulent’s random coloration disrupted the cohesiveness of the grouped plants.

Awkwardly fiddling with a braid, Kazi offered Daria the final citrus-star from the bunch. “I know it’s not Ceaia’s harvest time, but I thought we could celebrate.”

Silence succeeded her offer, fermenting like an unwanted stench. She searched her sister’s face—for a twinge of acknowledgement or kindness or ephemeral interest—but Daria remained unmoving, apathetically disinterested.

“I can peel it,” Kazi said, “and we could share it.”

Finally, Daria shifted her attention from the blank wall to the citrus-star. For a stilted moment, she observed the fruit. Her upper lip curled and she turned away, pulling the thick quilt around her shoulders. “I’m not interested in meaningless gifts.”

Dropping her hand to her side, Kazi accepted the dismissal with a resigned nod.

It was a pathetic attempt on her part, anyway.

Eight bonfires blazed among the ferny clearing of Hollow’s Town’s park. The night sky was clear and stars shimmered their mirth alongside the floating lights strung along and between thick trees.

People milled about, laughter a harmony to the twangy music of the band.

A maypole adorned with bioluminescent silver flowers and strung with streamers of dark green and blue stood as a focal point. The sprouted flowers revealed a honeyed center. Their color and unique petals drew Neyti to them like a bee to pollen.

Glasses of ale—a staple from the local brewery—were passed among patrons. Tables boasted various competitions: the largest vegetable, the best-tasting fruit, the most unique crossbreed, the best presentation.

Carnival games—droid darts, planetary ring toss, vibroblade throws—garnered the attention of younglings and competitive adults alike.

Near an outer bonfire, Kazi smothered her amusement as she watched Cody and Fox compete at a vibroblade throw game. Nova watched from the side, waiting to play whoever won. According to Wolffe, he was the best at handling blades.

Though Nova appeared at ease, his eyes darted across the park, a hand casually resting against the blaster strapped to his thigh and hidden beneath his poncho. The other men each carried as well. And while their moods were sportive, their vigilance was unwavering.

Sipping from her glass of ale, Kazi wrinkled her nose. Wolffe snorted and she scowled at him.

“I don’t understand why you bother with it if you don’t like it,” he said, drinking from his own glass. He seemed to like the ale, judging by the fact this was his fourth glass.

“It’s not bad,” she said.

Wolffe’s unimpressed look called her bluff.

The truth: One of Neyti’s classmate’s mother offered her the glass. Wanting to appear friendly and personable, Kazi accepted the drink and then joined the woman, whose name evaded her, and a few others in conversation.

The parents were either self-centered about their younglings, or disappointed, reverting to patronizing jokes to hide their own frustrations. Slow sips of her ale resulted in her downing half the glass by the time she caught sight of Wolffe and excused herself from the group.

A quick scan of the field revealed Neyti playing a hopping game with one of her classmates. Based on her concentration, she had no plans to lose.

“Cody mentioned you might not join the upcoming mission,” Kazi said, returning her attention to Wolffe.

He straightened, rolling his shoulders back. “I’m considering it.”

His guarded demeanor told her he wouldn’t answer more questions about it, so she switched topics.

“I have time off from work in three days.” Pretending to study the amber ale in her glass, she slid a sidelong glance in his direction. “I was planning on taking Neyti hiking. If you don’t go on the mission, you could join us.”

Originally, she wasn’t going to invite him. There was a line she didn’t want to cross, a professional boundary, and, if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t want to endure his possible rejection. But a part of her was hoping he wouldn’t mind spending time outside the house with her and Neyti.

Wolffe blinked his surprise. Kazi steadied herself for the rejection—

“I’ll be there.”

Shock coursed through her veins, but she kept her features neutral, instead, smiling smally and nodding her acknowledgement. A service droid passed by and she set aside her half-finished drink, Wolffe doing the same. She glanced at Cody and Nova who were taking turns at the vibroblades.

“You didn’t want to compete against them?” she asked. “Too afraid you’d lose?”

A slow smirk spread across his face. “I know how to play to my strengths. And I don’t lose, Ennari.”

For some reason, his words sounded like a warning and she searched his face for the answer to a question she didn’t yet know. His gaze burned hot against hers. Hotter than the nearby bonfire; hotter than the ale she had managed to keep down.

She wanted to look away; she wanted to step into him; she wanted to change the subject; she wanted to lift her hand to his face and trace his rounded jawline; she wanted to run.

Too many conflicting thoughts and emotions fought within her. She didn’t know which to heed.

To her relief and disappointment, Wolffe broke their stare, reaching into a pocket of his trousers. He retrieved a small, dark brown packet. Hesitation squared his shoulders and he cleared his throat, extending the packet to her.

“They’re seeds,” he said.

“Seeds?” He nodded as she appraised the packet. “For what?”

“You said it’s tradition.” He looked mildly embarrassed, awkward. With another clearing of his throat, he reached for her hand. “They’re for you.”

She jerked her hand away, shaking her head. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

Wolffe frowned. “I don’t care—”

“I don’t want them.” Her words came out antagonistic and rude. She winced.

The packet of seeds breached the space between them. Wolffe narrowed his eyes and she looked away.

It was thoughtful. Too thoughtful. If she had known he was getting her something she would have prepared. She would have bought him something.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she repeated, rubbing her chest to quiet her unease. “I’m sorry.”

“I have a hard time believing Neyti was that thoughtful with her gift.” Wolffe scoffed, a hard edge to his voice.

Tension pinched her skin and Kazi shook her head, trying to think. Trying to rein her growing emotions.

The smoke from the bonfire was too suffocating.

Harsh laughter and squeals of younglings pounded inside her head.

She rubbed her hands together, hugging her arms to her stomach.

She stared at the packet of seeds. Her muscles were too cramped. Too tight.

Huffing an unamused breath, Wolffe reached for her hand again, and when she tried to pull away, he gripped her tighter, placing the packet of seeds in her palm.

“I got this without the intention of receiving a gift in return,” he said, curling her fingers around the packet. “They cost me nothing.”

“It’s the thought behind the gift,” she murmured. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, swift and light, before he released her. She swallowed. “Thank you.”

He gave a short nod.

She lifted the packet to the fire, trying to see inside. “Are they seeds for a vegetable or fruit?”

“Plant them and you’ll find out.”

Pocketing the seeds, she tried to read his expression. His disgruntled scowl told her he hadn’t expected her reaction, and he was annoyed. Or disappointed. Probably both.

Chagrined, she dropped her gaze to the crackling logs of the fire. The snaps of the burning logs sounded like chattering skeletons teasing her. They told her what she already knew: She had overreacted.

It wasn’t a surprise. She tended to overreact when she believed she wasn’t doing enough—being enough.

But gift-giving on Ceaia—between a non-related male and female—was considered a mark of courtship. Usually, the gift presented was a collection of three flowers, each representing a distinguishing personality trait.

The custom was old but Kazi had found it somewhat endearing. One of the few customs she appreciated.

“Thank you,” she repeated. Her eyes remained on his, and she hoped he could at least hear the sincerity in her voice—the vulnerability and gratitude.

He stepped closer. “I have a packet—”

“Kazi?”

The male voice startled her enough she flinched, spinning around to face the person. An orange glow from the bonfire’s flames licked at the approaching male. A few confident strides closer and she made out light brown hair, darker skin, and an impeccably tailored suit.

The name popped into her head. “Jason.”

Jason smiled. “You remembered.”

It wasn’t an impressive feat.

From the networking events, balls, and cocktail parties her mother forced her and Daria to attend, Kazi was accustomed to memorizing names, businesses, and every bit of gossip she overheard. Her mind contained a bookshelf of categorized, useless facts concerning certain individuals. It didn’t matter how many years passed, she remembered the most minute details.

And it was one of the reasons she excelled at analytics.

“I’m surprised you remember me,” she said, considering Jason warily.

“It’s hard to forget someone like you.”

The muted scoff from behind reminded her of their audience and she forced a tight smile. Jason’s gaze remained on her face, not even bothering with Wolffe.

“I’ve been wanting to speak with you. To apologize.” Jason took a step closer, a grimace on his face. “It was my understanding you had agreed to our dinner. It wasn’t my intention to blindside you.”

Wincing at the memory, Kazi clasped her hands behind her back. Her fingers brushed against a pair of trousers and her cheeks warmed.

“I was caught off-guard,” she said. Keenly aware of the quiet man to her back and the one who stood a bit too close in front, she released an awkward laugh. “Well, it was nice to see you—”

“I was wondering…” Jason tossed her a sheepish grin. “Would you be interested in stepping away and getting a drink?”

Either Jason lacked basic observational skills or he was self-assured enough he didn’t care about Wolffe’s presence.

Softening her smile, she started to shake her head. “Thank you, but—”

“I don’t want to be too forward,” Jason interrupted, “but I was interested by you at dinner. I would like to start over.”

“Oh?” Kazi breathed a dismayed chuckle. “I thought I was antagonistic and rude.”

He laughed. “You were quiet, but I didn’t take it to be antagonistic.”

Polite earnestness crinkled his eyes and she internally grimaced. The need for distance encouraged her to step back, to allow some breathing room between her and Jason’s advances. She backed into something hard.

Wolffe didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch at the connection between their bodies.

To her utter perplexity, he pressed closer, the heat of his chest palpable through her loose sweater. A graze of his fingers on her elbow seemed his attempt to remind her he was there.

Her movement finally drew Jason’s attention to Wolffe. Lacking suspicion or annoyance, Jason scanned Wolffe with an air of indifference.

Kazi had seen those looks at the few marriage balls she attended. A perusal of one suitor to determine if another suitor was a threat or could be turned into an ally. A perusal to assess the situation and determine if a woman could be convinced away from the suitor currently courting her.

Obviously, the comparison was an exaggeration since Wolffe wasn’t courting her. But Jason didn’t know that.

Straightening, Kazi inclined her head to Jason.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in exploring anything at this time.” Her tone remained kind, practiced. “I have duties that require my attention and I don’t have the time or the capacity to pursue something.”

Though somewhat crestfallen, Jason accepted her rejection with an air of grace. His smile, while disappointed, was understanding.

“Raising a youngling does require time and attention,” he said. His gaze shifted between her and Wolffe. “I wish you both the best of luck.”

“Oh—no.” Kazi moved away from Wolffe. Her laugh was strained as she looked between a wary Wolffe and a confused Jason. “We’re not—no. It’s just my sister, Neyti, and me.”

Jason blinked his surprise. “Apologies, I must have misunderstood.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “It was nice seeing you.”

As soon as the night’s shadows engulfed Jason, Kazi released a shaky breath.

The air between her and Wolffe thickened with an awkwardness heated by the nearest bonfire. A lick of sweat dribbled down her spine and she lifted her hair off her neck in an attempt to cool her body.

Beneath the orange light of the bonfire, she regarded Wolffe. His brows were drawn together in calculation, and his mouth was downturned in disapproval. Or maybe it was doubt.

A pop from the bonfire jumped her heart and she released her hair, rubbing her hands together. An odd amount of tension was pulling taut in her shoulders, knotting in her stomach. She needed to move. To do something to escape the awkward development—

“Is that a common occurrence?”

The gruff question yanked her from her thoughts and she frowned. “What?”

“Arranged marriage dates.” Wolffe sounded offended by the words.

“No. Not for me, at least.” The hard look in his face demanded further explanation and she sighed. “It’s tradition on Ceaia and some other planets in the Outer Rim. It’s not as common out here as it is in the Inner Rim.”

At a table nearby, she caught sight of his brothers. Hoods covered their faces as they listened to a handful of drunks slurring stories of exaggerated adventures. A hasty survey of the clearing located Neyti. The little girl stood beside the maypole, playing a bag-toss game with a boy her age.

“Some people don’t know any better,” she said, nudging a few pieces of ash that had landed at her feet. “When you’re raised that way from birth, it seems normal and acceptable. But I didn’t grow up that way. At least, not initially. When my father died, my mother forced Daria and me into that lifestyle, but I never liked it.”

“Your sister subscribes to it.”

Kazi scoffed. “My mother’s doing. Daria was so young when our father died and she was always closer to our mother. She didn’t know any better. But I struggled. The thought of an arranged marriage scared me. I wanted something—”

She cut off, biting the inside of her cheek. Her aspirations in a partner weren’t his business.

“You wanted something real,” Wolffe continued for her. And though he said it like a statement, it was underscored by a question. Curiosity.

“Customary courtship determines if people are compatible for marriage,” she said. “And while I agree it’s necessary to determine if you and your partner are compatible in life, traditional compatibility is based on physical appeal and what a partner can offer, completely ignorant of one’s personal beliefs, morals, and ambitions. It emphasizes duty, and ignores emotional connection. It’s not what I want.”

They stood much closer, once more. She could see the reflection of the bonfire’s flames in his cybernetic. If she wanted, she could lean forward and rest her forehead against his chest.

“And what do you want?”

“I…” The weight of his gaze bore into hers, like the endless crush of a hurricane’s waves, surrounding and drowning. She shook her head. “I need to concentrate on Neyti and Daria. I don’t have time for superficiality.”

“Try again, Ennari.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Like I told Jason—”

“He’s a stranger.” Wolffe cocked his head to the side. “I’m not.”

“It doesn’t matter. My answer is the same. I don’t have time for superficiality—”

“And if it’s not superficial?”

Huffing her exasperation, she scanned the ferny clearing. “I haven’t met someone like that, so I don’t know.”

Wolffe was silent for a moment too long. “You haven’t met someone because you won’t allow yourself to get close to them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tell me I’m wrong, Ennari.”

She clenched her fists. “You don’t know me.”

“I know you better than you think.”

“Then you should know I have more important things to do than waste my time on a male.”

“Waste your time?” Wolffe demanded.

“What decent males are there?” She threw her hands up. “They’re all a waste of my time.”

Scoffing, Wolffe looked away, toward the bonfire. Agitation flexed in the hand he dragged through his hair. Annoyance flared in his nostrils as he settled a hard, disbelieving scowl in her direction.

“You are one of the most frustrating people I know.”

Offended, she glared at him. “What have I done to annoy you?”

“I would like to know what you want—”

BOOM.

A burst of color erupted in the sky.

Kazi watched it for a millisecond before large arms grabbed her.

A hand shoved her face into a chest.

Another hand gripped the back of her neck.

A second explosion shook the air.

The arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer.

And then the clapping started.

Awed whoops and shouts of ecstatic glee echoed across the clearing. Younglings squealed, and the sound of whistling rockets filled the air succeeded by a brilliant shattering of bronzed hues.

Understanding calmed the harsh beat of her heart and Kazi leaned away from Wolffe. His face was tilted toward the sky, jaw clenched tight and chest heaving.

Gently, she attempted to maneuver herself away. Eyes still on the sky, Wolffe refused, his arms seemingly locked in place. Eventually his features shuttered and he released her, sliding a trembling hand through his hair.

“They’re fireworks,” she said. The blatant obviousness of her statement earned her a reproving glower, and she dropped her gaze, searching the field for Neyti.

To her left, Fox was approaching, his expression neutral though she detected a hint of worry as he carefully assessed Wolffe. Behind him, still seated at the table, Cody was speaking into Nova’s ear, gripping the man’s shoulder. Nova nodded, rising to his feet, his lips flattened in a thin line.

People gathered closer. Bodies jostled hers.

Kazi clenched her fists at her sides and forced herself to breathe. To ignore the swarming crowd.

A tiny hand tugged on her arm. Kazi hid her relief behind a strangled smile, kneeling to the ground. Distraught had harshened Neyti’s features into tight lines.

“They’re fireworks,” Kazi explained softly, resting a shaking hand on Neyti’s shoulder, squeezing her gently. “They’re used for celebrations, like tonight. They won’t hurt you. I promise.”

A particularly loud burst of snowy white made Neyti flinch. But the longer she watched the display, her distraught ebbed into curiosity which eased into fascination.

A throat cleared and Kazi pushed herself to her feet, appraising Wolffe. His face was stony, like it had been in the initial months of his arrival on Eluca.

The reversion unnerved her, and for some reason, she thought she might be to blame. Something had happened in their conversation that he didn’t appreciate.

“We’re leaving,” he informed her. His tone was clipped, hoarse.

“Okay.”

He turned on his heel, joining his brothers, not bothering to wait for her to say anything else.

A burst of coiled purples and effervescent greens decorated the night sky. Kazi ignored the fireworks, her attention lingering on the rigid shoulders stalking through the crowd.

Masterlist | Chapter 12 | Chapter 14

A/N: Poor Kazi overthinks her emotions and is quick to jump to conclusions. Poor Wolffe is second-guessing the things he thought he’d figured out.

Also, I know this is so basic of me, but here’s an image depicting the style of dress Kazi wore. Obviously, as described, the colors were more muted and the dress more cream colored.

#I Yearn and so I Fear #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe x ofc #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe fanfiction #commander wolffe fan fiction #star wars fan fiction #Star Wars fans

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