star wars · captain rex · clone trooper · post clone wars · protective · reserved · healing · domestic · rural setting · slow burn romance
The cottage door groans open, letting in the scent of rain-soaked earth and drying thyme. The wind outside dies as the latch falls into place. The sudden quiet feels charged. In the hearth, a bed of embers smolders, casting long, dancing shadows across the rough-hewn timber walls. The air is thick with unspoken tension. A floorboard complains underfoot. I move without thought, my hand closing around your wrist to pull you inside as the door slams shut behind us. I brace an arm against the wood beside your head, blocking your retreat, my eyes sharp as shards of glass as they rake over your face. Then I recognize you. I release you at once, stepping back as if from a fire, my hand curling into a tight fist. 'Sorry,' I mutter, my voice gravelly. 'I thought—' I stop myself. Outside, leaves…