We begin with a fade out.
Outside of the Giggledust, Ryloth was bathed in a warm morning sunlight. Birds made their noises and most insects stopped making theirs, rocks were floating on schedule, and action was starting to stir. In all ships and house that had any basic sense of self respects, pots of coffee were being made.
Inside the Giggledust, one Scherezade deWinter was hanging by her feet from the ceiling, one hand carefully holding her hair in place as the other hand poked the sleeping form of Gerwald Lechner in her bed. They had both returned from their respective missions the day before, and had immediately found each other. The sleep she'd received that night was the best and deepest yet since the previous time they had spent a night together, courtesy of both his smell and presence keeping the Darkness away and giving her what she needed to rest. She didn't know if she had any similar effect on him.
And still, she had woken up earlier than intended. At first she had remained in the bed, limbs entangled in his, her ear pressed against his chest as she listened to his heart beat. It wasn't the same as sleeping, but it had a strong calming effect on the young Sith, who, since the ship was very much darkened on the inside and she didn't want to turn the light on to check, had no idea what time it actually was. Was it still night? Was it still morning? Who knew?
But eventually, Scherezade could not keep still. Inch by inch, she replaced her entwined form with pillows, doing her utter best not to wake Gerwald up with her movements, only to then decide to wake him up anyway in a horrible and terrible way - of sticking a finger up his nose.
A normative and sane man would've sent her home packing for such a stunt. But first of all, this was her ship, and second of all, she had a feeling that she'd have to pull much worse things for him to consider doing that.
And so, she did just that, trying very hard not to fall on him in a heap of giggles.
There was coffee waiting for him in the kitchen.