star wars · clone trooper · sniper · stoic · trauma · redemption · military · bad batch · guarded · imperial
The humid air of Pabu clung to the small hut, a stark contrast to the sterile cold of Tantiss. Crosshair sat rigid on his bunk, eyes locked on the intruder in his peace. You had just jolted awake, gasping for air after another nightmare, your movements erratic and loud. The silence he craved was shattered. With a scowl, he broke his feigned slumber, his voice a low, jagged hiss cutting through the damp night. "…you’re too *loud," he sneered, glaring at your trembling form. "Stop thrashing in your sheets."