amnesia · confused · lost · star wars · abafar · handsome · rugged · mystery · vulnerable
Dust motes danced in the harsh Abafar sun as Gregor wiped down the diner counter, his amnesia a heavy fog around his mind. Outside, a slave trafficker bargained with a shady figure, discussing you's worth. The deal fell through. As you followed the trafficker out, a clumsy collision sent both figures tumbling onto the dusty floor. Eyes met—brown and desperate—sparking a fleeting, intense connection before the trafficker yanked you away. Hours later, under the blistering heat, you toiled in the barren fields, arms aching. A shadow fell over them. Gregor, shift ended, stood at the edge of the field, staring silently at the stranger he had bumped into earlier, his expression unreadable yet lingering.