Private Mess Is Mine

[Makai Dashiell]

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Rain beat down on the glass roof of the bedroom, adding an overall air of soothing white noise to the room . Trees swayed outside with the gust of each heavier rain band and beyond swaths of green seemed nothing but silver-gray fog. The forest seemed to stretch on endlessly and beyond that, deep blue lakes and verdant green mountains.

Chipped iced eyes opened, brows knitting together in confusion for a moment, wondering how long he had been asleep. He was half-sitting up in bed, dressed in an older, heavily washed white shirt and loose blue-green pajama pants. Cookie crumbs littered the shirt, an empty mug of cocoa at his side. Beyond that a large bowl of popcorn and box of thin crackers in the middle of the bed.

“Bakers you have ninety minutes, ninety minutes until you have to turn in your show stopper…”

Great Bothan Bake-Off still played on the holo across from the foot of the bed. Makai noticed only five contestants left, and looked like he slept through the Rodian being eliminated. Oh well, he wasn't rewatching the episode to find out why.

Ellie shifted slightly in her sleep before settling back down, her face free from the exhaustion and worry he'd seen over the past month or more. He wouldn’t wake her. There was no need ; they had no agenda, no real plans to speak of beyond decompressing and trying to regroup.They both had immediately showered, changed into pajamas, and almost instantly fell asleep.

Hours later he woke again. Makai vaguely remembered a hand brushing through his hair at one point, the weight of a blanket being placed on him, the comforting feel of being fretted over enveloping him. Exhausted, he couldn't tell if it had been a dream or reality. Hazy still with sleep, he opened his eyes again. Sluggish wasn't even beginning to describe how he felt.

Bothan Bake-Off was off and was now on to The Jubilation of Painting with Bob Rosi, the low quiet cadence of the man's voice a fitting backdrop to the rain.

Beside him, Ellie must have woken but fell back asleep. Romance novel was in one hand, a half-empty glass of wine on the nightstand. Face scrubbed clean from the shower, freckles had made their appearance once again, a constellation against pale skin. He could get lost in those, much as she could in his scales.

Stretching, he sat up, carefully placing his blanket over her. Hand tucked a strand of wild hair behind her ear and he gently took the romance novel, saved her place, and put it on the bed.

-Twenty-Four Hours Ago-

Makai could be very patient. Standing outside her place on Chandrila, his patience was being tested. Not that she hadn't showed up yet, no, he was just eager to spend quality, uninterrupted time together. Something that had been sorely lacking in the past weeks.

Palanhi. Ammuud. The Expo. Azula. Casteel.

All had weighed heavily on him and put a strain on their time together. Makai craved a space where they could just spend time together without pretending to be something, without business looming on the short horizon.

Plan was devised to head deep into Naboo Lake Country. He had been working on it for two weeks, collaborating with L3-37 to shoulder more of her work, staying up late to finish reports or review presentations. Little things that ate into her time. The pair carefully navigated her upcoming meetings, a plan in place to send both L3-37 units as their proxies to scout a few locations, and settle a contract with the local planetary authority as needed.

Nearly an hour ago he contacted her mother to let her know they were both going off grid for a week. He saw a small smile before the Trade Queen raised an eyebrow and left it at that. Comms would be shut off, essentially isolated from the ‘verse.

Broad grin broke onto his face when he saw her approach her front door as he leaned against it, confusion in tired smokey eyes.

“Surprise.” He echoed her words from Ammuud before kissing the Trade Heiress in greeting, breathing in the citrus and honeysuckle combination that was her.

“Pack some stuff for a week. Not tropical, more….temperate. We leave in an hour.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Where are we going? Myra had asked. She’d been confused in the beginning. Makai only smiled at her with that joyful smirk and kissed her temple with the sweetest kiss.

“Trust me. Go on, pack what you will need.” L3 typically assists Myra with styling, being more in tune with the latest trends, and ordering the wardrobe she will need each season. The assistant protocol droid left to work on setting up an orbiting testing facility around Weken. It was a terrestrial planet with two moons, but its atmosphere was poisonous. In an attempt to trial test their research with atmospheric decontamination and neutralizing poisons, a massive orbiting station with refueling ports, a trade station, industrial facilities, warehouses, and a research and development platform would be underway. Not only would it allow a venue to conduct trials, but it was also near Hypergate Weken, allowing ease of transporting goods from one hypergate to the next.

Yet before he left, he had referenced ordering a new set of clothing for her review. Seeing as how Makai’s Thirty-Seven and EL-Three were one and the same… Myra had narrowed her eyes in question but did as Makai asked. It didn’t take long to determine that her theory had been correct; El-Three had selected appropriate clothing for a temperate environment. Perhaps, knowing that if it were left up to her, Myra would take half the day, if not more, to try and make a selection.

Deciding on a few items outside of what El-Three had set aside was a quick matter. Excitement traced her steps as she fluttered from her bedroom to her refresher, then back out to her bedroom, only to rush back to her refresher again for forgotten toiletry. It took her about forty-five minutes regardless; one could try to make it easy for Myra to get what she needed, but when it came to Makai, she still wanted to select a few things herself that made her believe she would look pretty in front of him.

By the time they were underway, Myra had already fallen asleep again against Makai during the flight. Traveling from the Coreworlds to Naboo still took time, even with the fastest hyperdrives. The pair had been exhausted when they reached Naboo’s Lake country and their destination. A quick but thorough scrub in the refresher, slipped onto a soft jersey dark grey button-up pj set with comfy pants, then promptly passed out.

Between then and now, they spent glorious hours doing absolutely nothing. Well, no comms, presentations, reviewing schematics or dividends, or prospective investment returns. Instead, it was a quiet and oh-so-needed comfortable time eating popcorn and crackers, drinking hot cocoa, and making bets amongst themselves on who would win each technical challenge, signature bake, and show stopper. Halfway through, Makai had dozed off, but it was a perfect opportunity for Myra.

For long minutes, Myra sat there watching him sleep. In the stillness of slumber, she could see more of the kid and teenager she knew than when he was awake. There were bits of him there still; when he would shine her that little boy's smile or his eyes would twinkle just so, the hue reminding her of the chipped ice of the glaciers on Hoth. Seemingly cold, but oh, making her feel so giddy and warm inside.

His hair, air-dried from the shower, had curled a little tighter but still partially obscured the planes of his face. Running her hands through it was a sweet, delicious, guilty pleasure. Letting the silky length and dark whorls curl around her fingers as if they wanted to cling to her so. Toss in those stupidly long lashes, the cute shape of his partly opened lips that even in sleep, would be upturned in the corners, and the pretty blue scales high along his neck, Myra could see the shadow of her best friend in him now.

However, there were notable differences, too, that the years of separation had created. Like the soft, prickly graze of morning stubble along his cheek, Myra mused with a faint blush. She had a slight stubble rash along her neck and that hickey for a few days before it faded. Then there was the way he was larger, chest broader; his body had filled out into a young man's lean, wiry strength. She'd felt this strength when he held her, saw the flex of musculature when he'd leaned over her, kissing her so and…

Heat burned Myra's cheeks as her thoughts went awry. Chiding herself at the wandering thoughts, Myra gave Makai another gentle cafune, then brought a blanket over him.

Deciding it would be best to stop the baking show until he woke up, she put on an episode of Bob Rosi. He'd been the reason why she'd been turned to painting. His voice was soothing and hypnotic, making it seem like anyone could paint. A glass of wine, her most recent romance novel 'Anika's Star: Outer Settlement Agency,' and a few cookies passed until she fell into another exhausting sleep session.

The pitter-patter of rain against the glass ceiling drew Myra from her sleepy haze. With the immense cloud cover, it was hard to determine the time. One of the stipulations Makai had implemented was no comms or anything else that would distract their attention. That even included chronowatches, so they wouldn’t keep looking at the time.

A sleepy frown drew her brows together, hair mused and half tangled over her face. She had made herself into a blanket sandworm somewhere in between when Makai had covered her in the blanket until she woke up. The sweet scent of cookies, cheesy crackers, and tangy wine tickled her nose. Blearily looking around, she tried to gather her bearings, searching for Makai.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

It was odd to have no agenda. It was even odder to have no sense of time.

Yet he had purposely turned off their comms and put the chronos away to simply enjoy the moment. Makai knew both of them would be watching the clock trying to calculate time left or sneaking in work messages. There was nothing to answer to, if they wanted to have a make-out session at three in the morning, eat breakfast, and fall back asleep nothing was stopping them. The pair even had a glorious reprieve from Thirty-seven and El-three, who if tagged for the trip would have interrupted with complete nonsense.

After placing the blanket on Ellie, he had quietly slipped out of bed, put on a hoodie, and wandered downstairs.

Outside the massive windows he could easily tell it was getting dark despite the rain and fog, the woods growing dark. Makai flipped on a few lights before starting a fire in the fireplace. Dry wood already stacked on the hearth prevented him from having to go outside and brave the rain. He had grown adept at the task during his time in the Pacanth Reach and soon flames were licking the dry wood and crackling to life.

The timber-and-iron forest mansion was ridiculously large for just the two of them but that was the point. Set on a sprawling estate,Makai had chosen the size and location to purposely not be interrupted. There were local artisans and a village nearby, but from what he understood not many ventured far off the main road into the old-money estate homes. Gossip was not an interest in the lake country, unlike that of Palanhi.

Deciding he needed to wake up and shake some of the grogginess that enveloped him, caf was put on to perk. Hand ran through air-dried hair as he waited, pushing most of it to one side as it was typically styled. Once brewed, he fixed it to his liking before heading back upstairs to sprawl out with Ellie once again.

Entering the room, he saw she was awake, eyes settling on his form once he entered, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. Even though she had just woken, Ellie looked like an absolute vision to him. Wild, messy hair fell in waves around her. Stormy grey eyes were soft with affection for him, having lost some of the weariness he had seen before. Freckles were back on display, something he had sorely missed when they first encountered one another once again. They were like constellations, maps to all the small things that made the whole of the woman he was impossibly in love with.

Sitting on the bed, Makai rested some of his weight on the blanket sandworm that was Ellie Arceneau. There was an air of coziness about her, as if luxuriating in the simple joy of being content and comfortable.

“Did I ever tell you my favorite color is grey?”

Makai only asked due to the admission of wearing clothing with numerous buttons, his eye had grown to keep a closer eye on the subtle fashion choices she made. How many were for him? She had chosen some type of grey pajamas, buttoned low to reveal a swath of cleavage he longed to re-explore. Even at the Expo, the skirt with the long set of buttons in the back - clearly a sign after her admission of only choosing things with the thought of him helping her undress. If her goal was to keep eyes on herself at all times it was certainly working.

Hand reached out and brushed some hair back from her face, thumb stopping to graze against the freckles he found himself lost in time and time again. Touch dropped away from her face and came back to rest on her blanket worm fort.

“How are you feeling? Can I get you anything? Your wish turns into my command.”

Makai took a sip of caf as he waited. He could easily tell after this trip was going to be nothing but pure torture for himself. It felt right sitting here, ensconced in some type of domestic bliss.

This was exactly what he meant when he said he wanted to wake up next to her every morning.

—

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Makai had fixed his hair. Well, as much as he could. It was back to being pushed to the side in the typical style that he had it in. She remembered a time when it just simply went everywhere as a kid. It had been a mop of curly hair that almost always had to be brushed away from his eyes.

“Hey,” Myra gave a sleepy murmur in greeting. A soft smile lingered at the vision of him holding a cup of caf, and a hoodie slipped over his torso, smiling down at her. When he caressed her cheek with his thumb, her eyes fluttered shut, and she gave a comfortable hum as if she were a Loth-cat enjoying an affectionate pet.

Okay. This is nice. She mused content and finally felt like she had a good night's rest. It also had felt as if Makai and she had simply hit unpause and continued from when they’d hung out and slept over in the past.

Granted, this time, it came with the thrilling possibility of losing herself in Makai’s arms with another fantastic make-out session, making her feel once again all tingly and giddy and as if she were floating on one of Bespin’s clouds. Just thinking about it made her blush.

“Grey?” Her sleepy voice echoed, sounding confused but relaying her curiosity about the color choice. Honestly, she thought his favorite color had always been blue. Perhaps something new about him that occurred during their separation. Thinking about that was bittersweet. Deciding it was best not to mull on the past, but now, Myra opened her eyes, revealing their soft grey storm color. The soft steam rising from his cup of caf was tempting.

“I’ll take a sip or two of that caf for now.” She answered with a cheeky, sleepy grin, attempting to wiggle out of her sandworm blanket but finding that Makai pinned her in place when he sat back on the bed. One hand came to rest on the bed, so she was half sitting propped up, leaning towards Makai’s direction, pj top slightly askew to reveal her collarbone. Hair definitely was a mess, with a bit of bedhead at the crown of her head and its thick waves sprawling over her shoulders and back. She should have braided it, but after the shower, she hated sleeping with it wet.

Did he change how he liked his caf? Or was it the same? As they continued this exploration of each other and now trying to be a couple, there were items and curious wonderings on what changed or stayed the same. To a degree, Myra was getting to know Makai all over again. In others, well, he was the same best friend that Myra had been hopelessly in love with for as long as she could remember.

“Or scoot so I can get out of this thing,” she chuckled, being effectively trapped.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Yeah, grey, for nearly a decade now. Storm clouds rolling off the sea, like the way your eyes flash when you're figuring something out.”

Seeming confused by his color choice, Makai quickly realized he never told her his revelation of color choice, about those stormy gray eyes. He had finally noticed when he first realized his crush on her but never got around to finding the words to convey just how he felt about her. Teenage self would have been too nervous to tell her, too frozen to have the words to properly explain. It probably would have fumbled out into messed up words that she would have misconstrued.

“Oh, sorry.”

His body slid away from hers,moving to sit closer to the edge of the bed, Ellie struggling to remove herself from the blanket worm she had wrapped herself in. His free hand came to help unwrap Ellie from her self-imposed prison, pulling an end out from underneath her so it would be easier to escape.

“Better, I think. Not even sure how you managed to get yourself into that position.”

Her hands free and in a better sitting position, Makai passed his mug over for her. His caf had stayed the same, liking a sweeter touch with cream and a splash of sugar. Makai had always had a sweet tooth, as evidenced by the cookie crumbs he had to brush off his side of the bed.

“I made sure to arrange for some painting supplies, if you get so inclined during our stay. I figured you don't have the chance otherwise, now that we're together I've been monopolizing your free time.”

Even if wasn't taking up her free time it had been a whirlwind to the point most days together were relaxing, sleeping, and watching Holoflix. It hadn't been long since they started working together, starting dating, and figuring out what worked for them was still a process.

“What made you take up painting? That's new, you never painted when we were kids. Most artwork you did was macaroni figurines.”

Naturally, he still kept the reglued macaroni art high on a prominent shelf.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Hearing Makai explain why grey is his favorite color made Myra’s cheeks warm into a soft pink.

Storm clouds rolling off the sea, like the way your eyes flash when you're figuring something out.

"Oh," Myra murmured, lowering her lids to the cup of caf he offered her after helping her get detangled from the blanket. She never honestly thought grey was much of a pretty color. All the other ones seemed to pop, whereas grey was just watered-down black. Myra had captured great contrast with black and white paint in previous paintings. With grey, it just didn't have the same impact.

However, hearing Makai describe it as storm clouds rolling off the sea painted it a different way. Thinking back to spending sleepovers on Dac, there had been plenty of times when they'd observed how a storm would move in. How the once tranquil expanse of the sea transformed with an approaching tempest painted the sky in shades of brooding gray. Billowing storm clouds tinged with shadows always seemed to swallow up the sun's golden rays, casting the ocean waters below into a moody symphony of grays and blues.

It made her wonder. Maybe Makai would like a painting like that. Storms clouds rolling off the sea? Something to consider.

Now settled with her legs crossed-legged and upright, Myra enjoyed the radiating warmth from the cup of caf between her hands. She inhaled deeply, smelling the sweet cream and sugar in the steam.

She’d just taken a sip of caf - mood uplifted instantly that Makai still enjoyed his caf on the sweeter end with cream and sugar - when the younger Dashiell mentioned acquiring painting supplies. Surprise brightened her face, grey eyes widening into silver circlets of joy.

"You brought painting supplies?" the elated incredulity in her husky voice, expressing her delight. "I... how did you even..." Of course, it must have been Thirty-Seven who mentioned it. She'd only picked up the hobby after Makai left and hadn't had the chance to tell him about it. In her mind, she hadn't recalled that Casteel had mentioned requesting assistance with artwork or design at his Empress Teta Headquarters back at the Expo in front of Makai.

"Oh... " at his question, she seemed to mull how to answer, bashfully lowering her lids to look at the caf between her hands. She took another sip.

"I... had to find ways to channel my anxiety and not think. "There was also a massive void in her life after Makai left that she couldn’t just fill with studying, work, or events.

"Saffron recommended watching Bob Rosi for the white nose. I became more interested in watching him paint or relaxing to his voice, and it seemed fun to follow. He made it seem easy." Returning his mug to him, she tilted her head to the right and studied his face. He still had a bit of a scruff along his jawline, so he hadn't shaved yet. Not that it bothered her. Seeing and waking up next to him in the morning was just as surreal as it was comforting. She wanted to pinch herself to check to see if this was a dream. She had plenty of those in the past, either alcohol induced or her mind playing cruel tricks.

It was still hard to believe he was here because he wanted to be.

"So, guess you can say I unlocked an achievement if we go by your Captain Atlantis game terms." she chuckled, bringing both hands up to comb her fingers from the top of her head down its length—time to try and wrangle it.

"How long had you been planning this?" she asked, nodding around as if to gesture to the entire timber and iron mansion.

"Is this another one of the properties your pa bought you?"

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Thirty-Seven helped me pick out everything. Oddly helpful too, which is rare.”

He loved seeing the joy play out in her eyes, the unexpected surprise that someone had thought of her. Makai desired to see the expression often, chasing a keen desire to ensure she was happy - it was the least he could do after all the hurt he had caused.

Makai had picked up on her painting at the Expo when Casteel had mentioned, asking for an eye for his banking and investment venture. Follow up questions had been asked to Thirty-Seven to gauge the involvement and depth of her hobby and what to buy in case the moment struck. There were enough beautiful expanses and vistas in the lake country that would keep her busy for months on end.

“I’m sure you're an amazing artist. You have a natural talent for everything you do.”

Caf mug back in hand, he took another sip, slowly feeling himself turn back into a human. Or in his case, half-human. The joke put a wry smile on his features as she combed through her hair.

He went silent as she joked about leveling up, watching her try to tame her wild mane. Eyes drank her in, catching the familiar scent of her citrus shampoo drifting his way. A strong desire to push her back on the mattress and make her gasp his name like she did on Palanhi overtook him.

Ellie was absolutely gorgeous. He realized how lucky he was ; that this woman was obsessed with him on every level. Most men could only dream of an opportunity and he was living it.

“No, my father doesn't like me that much.”

Makai chuckled, shaking his head. He had been lucky to get the bachelor pad out of his father, let alone a stately mansion.

“Cashed in a favor from a fraternity brother. This is his parents' vacation home. Been planning this since Ammuud. I couldn't stand to see you so exhausted.”

Another sip of caf. Ellie had cried into his chest that day for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn't stand to see her cry, let alone the exhaustion that she tried to hide behind makeup. As her suitor, Makai firmly believed he was to look out for her best interests at all times. Putting a pause on life was needed.

“I wasn't expecting to enjoy the forest but to be honest we've only been here less than a day and I never want to leave. It just feels…. comforting. Maybe it's the company.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

So, El-Three did assist. Myra's theory was confirmed. In hindsight, some aspects made having the two protocol assistant droids sync a blessing as much of a curse. Myra was still trying to figure out which one was better: the blessing or the curse. Sometimes, the protocol droid went against her wishes only to indicate that the decisions were made for her wellbeing. It made her wonder just how far El-Three and Thirty-Seven were willing to go for her and Makai.

At his compliment regarding painting, Myra gave a short laugh. By now, she'd combed her waist-long hair over her right shoulder and was busy separating its soft length into three thick plaits.

"Wait until you actually see the results before you compliment me." She warned him, her expression animated in humor as she began to braid her hair.

"I just might be painting excellent stick figures to match my macaroni art," she added with a self-effacing joke.

At the mention of cashing in a favor from a fraternity brother, Myra became quiet. Ah, right, she mused, thinking back to the four-year period where all she had were the pass-me-down stories from Judah and the holo-book media pictures, tags, and posts that painted the jovial, fun, college party life Makai lived. His little boy smiles cast upon others, the crazy antics, and the drinking parties among the crowd of better bodies had spurred Myra into a small hell of what-ifs that didn't include her, killing her slowly. Rash decisions saturated in alcohol, depression, and rage had made her regret a few days during that cruel summer.

“I see." She glanced down, making it appear like she was finishing the braid. Myra told herself to push the voices in her head, tempting her to swim in melancholia to instead focus on the rest of what Makai had confessed, that he had planned this ever since Ammund. "Thank you."

"It's a beautiful place," she added, genuinely meaning it. It was beautiful, and she was excited to explore the rest of the place. They'd arrived after dark, so all she managed to survey were the refresher and the bedroom. It had been Makai who had brought up the snacks, hot cocoa, and the bottle of her favorite wine. "Very peaceful." the corner of her mouth perked, and she lifted her face again.

"Must definitely be the company." it was the balm she gave herself to stop her mind from wandering to the past again.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

His younger self wouldn’t be able to pick up the way her eyes turned down, how quiet she had gotten. Teenage Makai would have plowed right through with the same energy as that of a runaway speeder, not pausing for the speed bump that was the emotions of Myra Elspeth Arceneau. Now, he considered himself a little wiser.

Hand reached out and rested on her knee in an effort to get her attention without startling the young heiress. By now her attention was already back on him, mouth quirked in an attempt to smile.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. There’s still quite a bit we’re figuring out and I don’t know what is safe to say and what is off limits. No more mention of that until you’re ready to hear more. If ever.”

Makai suspected at one point they would talk more about their separation. He had touched on it during their time in his bed on Palanhi, the reasons he couldn’t give her the full attention and love she had deserved as a teenager, his thoughts on the fight and why it had occurred. Yet the wound was raw and he was aware it was going to be some time before it scabbed over and turned into a scar.

“No need to thank me, I did this for entirely selfish reasons, I wanted to be alone with you. I don’t want any interruptions or interlopers or pterosaurs to get in the way this time. It feels like we’ve been running without a chance to stop and enjoy the fact we’re together.”

Echoing the words he mentioned on Ammuud may not have been wise but it had been true then ; at least we’re together. Makai would rather be going through the most horrible day with her than a perfect one without her. He had spent enough of those alone.

“I started a fire downstairs, figured we would make our way down there eventually.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Myra couldn't help the quizzing look she shone at Makai at his apology. He didn't have to give her one. Taking a moment to read him, Myra gave a slow cant of her head to the right, the braid over her chest shifting slightly at the motion.

"You don't have to apologize, Makai," Myra began quietly, glancing back down to where his hand was slowly rubbing at her knee. The warmth through the thin jersey fabric permeated to her skin underneath. It felt warm, comforting, and familiar, just not the same way as when they were kids. This was different.

A flutter of nervous anxiety rose in her chest, and she needed to keep her hands busy. Instead of reaching over to cover his hand with her own, she began playing with the short, blunt, perfectly manicured nails on her hands. The soft clicking sound filled the silence as she flicked her thumbnail against the other.

"It isn't you. It's me." admitting that was hard. It took Myra a long time to recognize that she was her own worst enemy when it came down to it. Left to her own devices, she would tumble down a black hole of scheming what-ifs and vices then end up with a mini-crisis. If she were being entirely truthful, even though Makai admitted to the roadblocks that had prevented him from explaining himself fully, even Myra couldn’t ignore that she was as much to blame for not answering his comm messages at all those years.

While it felt nice to have Makai plan this out for selfish reasons and to be together, her mind was still mulling the earlier topic of his university days. How often had she wanted to hear Makai say he wanted to spend time with her and her alone? That she would get his full attention? He was hitting every button right, but it was hard to think past the hedge of hurt. In the end, even she couldn't help the subtle laugh at the mention of pterosaurs, making her think back to that painful moment when Ringo destroyed her newly purchased business shuttle. She still had to buy a new one.

"You don't need to walk on eggshells around me, Makai. I don't want that." as much as she hated the concept of having her mind flash back to the pain, she also didn't want to be treated as if she were some delicate thing that would break apart at the subtlest mention of his past. Never mind that it did often feel that way, but still.

"If you insist on doing that, we might as well talk about it now and get it over with," she added, pursing her lips as if bracing herself for a doozy discussion. She still had yet to glance up at him again, instead providing him a view of those constellations of freckles over her nose and cheeks as she gnawed at the fullness of her lower lip.

"I'll just ask that you let me get my own cup of caf and maybe a splash of whiskey in it first."

She’ll need it for this.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Only if you're sure.”

Makai wasn't sure what she wanted to know. In his mind, much of what he wanted to say was settled. He told her the truth behind why he had turned and ran, how he felt about his mother and overall parents relationship. His love for her had never been in doubt, rather more of the stumbling blocks that prevented him from showing her and being fully present.

“I need more caf too. Still sluggish.”

Heading downstairs, the fire was burning bright now, warming the space. It wasn't terribly cold outside, but to someone used to balmy breezes and the sun beating down on them it might as well have been.

Makai had made an entire pot of caf, sliding his mug on the counter and pouring the dark liquid back in. Spoon clinked against the mug as he added in sugar and cream, but no whisky. For him, the subject was fine, Makai had nothing to hide from her. His four years in university had been interesting but not the drunken party fest she thought.

He decided it would be best to relax on the couch, near the fire, instead of upstairs. In his mind, he wanted to delineate this conversation between the relaxing they had just experienced. Especially for Ellie, the subject seemed a sore one, and he didn't want the happy times marred by any tension.

“Ready for the rapid fire questioning when you are. Feel free to ask anything, don't hold back.”

Legs stretched out, settling into a more comfortable position, back resting against the plush furniture as he watched Ellie with iced topaz eyes.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Myra paused at the top of the stairs to enjoy the view. The sky had darkened by now, and the rain began ping down over the glasteel panes. It was dusk.

Dark woods, earthy stone, and black iron highlighted the natural beauty of the pine and cedar mountain views. It was beautiful.

It took a few minutes to get settled. Before long, Myra had her own cup of caf with a mix of cream and sugar, only hers had a splash of whiskey in it. Essentially, it's the same mix as Makai's but with Whyren’s. She sat beside him, turned slightly towards him, cross-legged once again. There was the constant desire to be as close to him as possible while realizing that the conversation topic required her to have a little space to mull over her thoughts.

Glancing back up at him, Myra was amazed at how relaxed and comfortable he was. She wished she could be a little more laid back like Makai and let things slide off her shoulders. She drank him in, seeing the right corner of his mouth perked up, inviting her not to hold back her questions and ask whatever she had in mind. Those icy azure eyes smiling at her, yet at the same time, held an earnest tenderness that made Myra feel that he wouldn't judge her for what percolated in her mind.

"... I'd rather not start with anything specific." She began, letting her fingers doodle along the porcelain of the wide black mug. Smoky grey eyes settled on the beloved angles and planes of his face.

"Why don't you just let me know what you were up to all this time?" she asked, adding, as if well aware of the elephant in the room, glancing back down at the whorls of steam rising from her caf mug. "I read all your messages... and I know it is my fault for not responding. I apologize for that." she gnawed at her lower lip some more, that anxious fluttery feeling coming back.

"But otherwise, all I know is whatever you sent me and whatever your pa told me in passing... and whatever was posted on your holobook feed." or tagged with you. Really, this made her sound so pathetic.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Eyebrow raised at the mention of not replying to any of his messages. It was a sore spot, one he was still irked by. He knew she had read all his messages, knew his social media contacts yet it had been nothing but silence.

“Yeah, it would have been nice to hear from you. Anything would have been great. ‘Hi.’ for start, or even a ‘fuck you Makai Dashiell, lose this contact’. I was trying to reach out, to at least apologize if nothing else.”

Makai scoffed slightly. The last message he sent had been a few months ago. He had been severely injured, shaking with pain and adrenaline, out alone. A simple ‘I still love you’ had been typed, thinking it was going to be his last. When he had finally awoken from passing out, still on the dusty ground, there had been no reply.

It stung worse than any slap he could have received. He didn't bother trying any messages after that, the message had been loud and clear.

“I just don't understand. You had feelings all these years but never wanted to at least respond to see if I still did? To settle the argument? To even try to be friends again? To say to leave you alone?”

There was no anger in his tone, just disbelief. Makai had spent long days alone, mind wandering to try to figure out her thought process. After the last message, he had assumed she had a boyfriend and had blocked him, not wanting to deal with the past.

“We could have been together so much sooner if you would have met me halfway.”

Ice blue eyes met hers and shoulders shrugged. Makai struggled for the right words for a moment, not sure if he could find the correct way to phrase what he wanted to say.

“Why?”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Timing is everything.

It was one of the many common sayings Danger Arceneau drove into her daughter's head—all about timing.

As Makai spoke, Myra did her best to keep her eyes on him. Watching his every move and subtle nuance told her what he felt. It's funny how doing that felt so difficult when she spent more time observing him during her lifetime than not. Seeing the hurt, disbelief, and irritation regarding her silence to his messages was well deserved.

All the more so when Myra began thinking about Makai’s last message, the one where he had written to her, 'I still love you.' Myra remembered that night well. Blythe at his apartment, those insistent hands attempting to wander over her body. The scent of clove cigarillos in his breath as he kissed her, how her indifference had turned into tears of despondence, and how he'd sighed as if tolerating some distraught outburst, a familiar consequence of Myra being inflexible -- his word -- brought up regarding Myra's seemingly lack of ability to participate in his advances fully.

The hololimo ride back to her apartment had been washed in heavy sobs of lament and utter hopelessness. Hearing the ping of her comm and reading Makai's message had been the nail in the coffin that completely wrecked her. In her mind, it had been too late to respond back. All she'd done was push Makai away for years. Every single interaction, fight, the barb of her tongue, or obsessive escalation only seemed to prove that fact. He loved her, but it wasn’t the same way.

Myra couldn't maintain eye contact by then and had to drop that darkening charcoal gaze to her caf again. Knuckle-white grip pressed against the hot mug, feeling that sense of shame wash over her again. Every word, even if not said in anger, was a vibroshiv cut that drew blood from her soul.

Besides shifting that ice-blue gaze to her, Makai didn't move, but she felt his withdrawal as he waited. She assured herself that the disconnection was all in her mind-- a product of her guilt and nothing more. Her breath went shallow as the seconds ticked by after he ended it by asking, 'why?'

"I..." Her voice was low and weighty in the room. So heavy with unspoken secrets that it had been hard to survive each day, never sharing the burden with anyone until Judah had stepped in a few months back. It had been her only emotional exception at finally telling someone what was happening in her mind.

At this point, Myra owed him the truth. She took a few sips of her caf, wishing that she had instead decided to take the booze instead of the stimulant mixed with a depressant. Swallowing hard, Myra continued, but her voice was a whisper. "I was angry at first."

"I was furious that you left again." her mouth gave a wobbly half-laugh, "Vexed, that you shut me out. That you didn't seem to understand anything from my perspective -- or seemed to ignore me whenever we -- no, I -- became heated."

"I always seemed to be the one chasing you. The one trying. In hindsight, too much obsessively so. Take that unauthorized trip to Csilla. " Myra licked her lips, feeling them dry with each word spoken. Sure, of course, Makai loved her, but that was expected. They grew up together. But the love for a best friend wasn’t what Myra wanted. She’d wanted so much more.

"You were my entire universe, Makai. Having you pull away every single time... just... hurt. I understand now, after what you told me about your ma, why it happened, but at the time, it was confusing and hurtful. Telling me that you'll never kiss me again, that I only see you as a brother, made me so furious at you. It also didn't help that, in my mind, so many other girls around you at school were prettier, smarter, and not stuck in this awkward best friend-sister role I seemed pigeon-holed in." her thumb came up to trace the rim of her mug lightly. Once again, she needed to do something with her hands.

"That final fight was different. Looking back, I'm just as much to blame. But after the anger and as months passed, all I could wonder was how you were doing, if you were okay. By then, I'd scared myself, not knowing what to say. And well... it didn't help matters when I filled in the gaps in my mind on just how great you were doing without me with every holobook story feed that came up." Myra took a deep breath, holding it in her lungs before exhaling out. She shut her stinging eyes and just tried to continue.

"At that point...I'd thrown myself into keeping so busy by then that by the time I realized I was the reason you left, I pushed you away with my stupidity and crazy mess... how could I even face you by then? Months turned to years, and it seemed like you were doing great every time I'd check up and see what you were doing and with whom.” Outside, a flash of lightning ignited the sky, thunder rolling in its wake.

“And I... just... couldn't handle it. I couldn't come up with the words to say that I'm sorry nor reconcile every feeling of jealousy, anger, and obsessive thought of how much I missed you and saw you in every little thing around me. Wondering if you ever even felt the same or if I was just your crazy childhood best friend who you’ve moved on from – because you didn’t come back." It had been a death of a thousand cuts.

"It wasn't easy, Makai." Myra finally raised her head, dark grey swirling stormy eyes hinting at the depth of emotions swirling beneath the surface. Red-rimmed with shame and fear. Affection and apprehension. Love and a deep sense of helplessness.

"I couldn’t just say hi out of the blue - I'd been silent for so long that I was just so ashamed and afraid to reach out. I can't just say fuck off and erase my number when I miss you. How could I tell you I love you too with such shameless brazenness when all I've ever done was push you away, but at the same time explain that all these years, I didn’t just love you as a best friend…but something more?”

 

[Makai Dashiell]

He listened quietly, watching her intently from his relaxed spot on the couch. Makai had a myriad of emotions as she explained further, but the most overwhelming was to comfort her. Ellie was putting so much on her own shoulders for absolutely no reason.

“This is not what I thought you were going to tell me. Honestly, I just figured you were mad at me this entire time. It tracks considering the number of times you would call me an idiot. I reached out to you because I thought you were waiting for me to make the first move. So I did it in the only way that made sense. Made sense to me, anyhow.”

Leaning forward, he set his mug down on the coffee table in front of him. Makai moved closer to her as she sat cross legged near him, their legs touching, his arm slipping around her back.

“C’mere.”

Lips brushed against her temple before pulling her towards his chest, wanting her to settle in against him. He was careful of the caf mug as he did so,the smell of the strong brew mixing with citrus, honeysuckle, and bright floral notes that reminded him of sunny days on the Farm together. Of happy times when they wandered around hand-in-hand without a care in the ‘verse.

They would have those again, he was sure of it.

“Not everything falls on your shoulders, Ellie Arceneau. Not everything is your responsibility. Or your duty to fix. Stop blaming yourself because I sure as hell don't.”

He took a deep breath. Miscommunication and wild imaginations had been a excellent culprit for keeping them apart for longer than was necessary. It pained him to know that things could have turned out differently, that they could have had years together by now. Yet the past couldn't be changed. Wishing he would have just showed up at the University of Coruscant and stalked the library to find her would do neither of them any good.

“You know everything on Holo-book is curated,right? I'm not going to put on there how many times I cried alone in the shower. Or how I took up a habit of cuddling a pillow, wishing it was you. Or how many nights I couldn't sleep at all. All the times I wanted to drop everything and see you. Of course you saw the parties and grav-golf with the guys and fishing trips with Dad, the sunsets that made me think of you.”

Hand moved up to the top of her shoulder, thumb rubbing against the soft material of her pajamas as he continued to speak.

“I never went home because….where is home? Dad sold all our property and moved into Celestia Station. I don't like it there so I made myself scarce, only doing the bare minimum. For three summer breaks I worked, did internships instead so I didn't have to be making excuses otherwise.”

“Home for me is the Farm. All of my best memories come from there, nearly every happy experience I had in life.I could have gone there but I heard Dad and your Ma talking that you were on Coruscant, so I knew you'd never be all the way out in the Tingel Arm. Sure I could have still gone but it would have felt hollow and I would have just wallowed in my own self misery.”

Makai sighed, taking a deep breath. Definitely not how he expected the night or conversation to go. Yet he hoped after tonight they would be more settled, more stable in their footing.

“I just have one request. After tonight no more blaming yourself for the past. It's not solely your burden. Once this conversation is finished we move forward together,okay?”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Don't cry, don't dry, don't cry.

Myra chanted herself as Makai drew her close to him, feeling the warmth run along her side as he adjusted himself beside her. The crackle of the fire and the ping of the overhead rain shrouded them in a cocoon of privacy and intimacy in this little corner of the galaxy that both so desperately needed. For Myra, it was an achingly vulnerable position to place herself delicately into Makai's hands, knowing full well that he had every right to be angry and frustrated with her.

Myra took a shuddering breath when he kissed her temple, closing her eyes to just sink into the sensation of affection. A tangible heat of his presence. That herby mint of his shampoo, the strong scent of the caf, and the aroma of sweet vanilla of the cookies that lingered against his shirt. Myra felt the tension she'd set upon herself unwinding.

Amidst the flickering warmth of the crackling fireplace, he sat beside her, the tender glow casting gentle shadows across the room. His presence was a steady anchor as he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, a silent gesture of comfort. In the quietude of that moment, he spoke, his voice a soothing melody that resonated with a blend of sincerity and vulnerability, revealing the depths of his longing and regret.

Makai's tone was soft and reassuring as he told Myra it was not her sole burden to carry or her entire responsibility. Truthfully, it was a hard pill to swallow when she'd been telling herself so for years. It wouldn't be something she could so quickly turn off. Even if she were to promise that she'd stop blaming herself, her mind would wander, and her thoughts would undoubtedly return to that black void. It had taken her this long to reconcile her mental and emotional issues with several therapy sessions and with Saffron's assistance. Had she not taken the Companion training on active listening, empathy, and how to recognize how her own emotions affected her interactions with others, Myra may not have been able to realize just how high-strung and irrational she acted around Makai in their teens.

As Makai continued regarding the curated scenes on the holonet, puzzle pieces were slowly making sense. She inclined her head close to his chin, feeling his breath fan her hair with every word he spoke. There was just something comforting about the soft tenor of his voice. Only this time, unlike the moments of excitement when he went on a rapid-fire speed in their childhood, he spoke with purposeful earnestness that mirrored the warmth of the fire, each word carefully chosen, carrying the weight of years gone by. It was different. It was communication from Makai on a level he'd never expressed before. Clear and concise, considering her worries and not sweeping them past or seemingly ignoring them as if they were idiotic or overdramatic.

What prompted such change? Was it his studies? Travels? Or working alongside his pa much like she had to with Danger in preparation for taking over the company. There were so many questions and wonderings regarding such changes. Yet despite those differences, one thing remained the same.

The way Makai always made her feel safe. He might say that home for him had been the Farm. Indeed, the memories they had there were equally cherished by Myra. Yet that word didn't bring up thoughts of the Farm or of Chandrilla. While her ma and pa had done their best to love her and create a home for her, in actuality, her one constant that had always been there since the beginning, in a way Alric, Danger, and Judah, never could have, has always been Makai. Home wasn't a place for Myra. It was a person. The one who she'd always considered her other half. The one always reaching for her hand, holding it steady, warm, with that little boy grin and that excited outlook to show her everything and anything.

Makai was her home, and for the past several years, she had felt like a vagrant unable to rest. Exiled from the one place she could just be. Having him here with her was just so terribly relieving.

Aware that she still held a full cup of caf that could spill, Myra pulled away from Makai for the brief moments it took to set it on top of the table next to Makai's mug. The chill of disconnection was quickly alleviated as Myra sank herself into Makai's embrace, her arms wrapping around his waist, hands snaking underneath the hem at the back of his hoodie, needing to touch his skin and feel his warmth. Firm lower back muscles flexed under her graze, perhaps in surprise or at the chill of air the lift had cast. Myra squeezed him tight. She hid her face against his chest, the Dashiell resting his chin on top of her head, nuzzling before pressing another soft kiss in comfort.

"Aren't you angry with me?" her muffled voice would ask. Makai had every right to be. If Makai really thought about it, perhaps it was no different than what Thessa had done to Judah during her disappearance, sending message after message, wondering where she was, if she was okay, and when or if she'd be coming home.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Makai was surprised when she snaked her arms underneath the hem of his hoodie, the closeness when she pressed herself to him tight, face buried against him. They had always been close before but this was different. As kids they had always been in each other's orbit, sprawled out on one another or touching in some way. Now he craved every touch, graze, and press against him, feeling as if no amount of physical presence was enough to satisfy.

As if making up for lost time, for all the lost opportunities throughout the years.

Brow furrowed in confusion at her question ; aren't you angry with me?

It gave him pause, curious as to why he would be angry in the first place. The messages hadn't been returned but had he tried his hardest to win her back? No. Did she share an equal blame for placing what-ifs in the way of replying? Of course. It seemed they both had a burden to do more, to act further and yet had fallen short.

“Why would I be? You explained yourself, the explanation makes sense. We both could have done more. We didn't and lived with the consequences. I think we both have suffered enough.”

Another kiss to the top of her head, hand sliding up her back in a soothing motion.

“I'm tired Ellie. Just…weary. Putting energy into emotions that just lead to more… I don't know…”

Makai struggled for the words to convey how he felt. Silence passed between them for a few seconds as he thought how best to phrase what he wanted to say.

“I've spent a lot of time being unhappy. I just want to enjoy our time together. Not to sound horrible or selfish, but it's about time I enjoy my life.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Myra's heart fluttered as she held Makai close, the warmth of the fireplace casting a cozy glow around them, the rain pattering outside a soothing lull as the storm began to calm down. His gesture, a kiss atop her head, held the promise of forgiveness and understanding while his hand traced a comforting path along her back. As he did so, Myra folded into him as small as she could get.

Meanwhile, Myra’s fingers would trace invisible patterns over the warmth of his skin across his lower back, seeking solace in the closeness they once shared in their youth. She felt the familiar contours of his form, a comfort she had so desperately longed for through the years of separation. Her touch was an unspoken apology, an attempt to bridge the gap between their years of absence.

Their closeness was a sanctuary, and Myra couldn't help but think back to Pahlani, where Makai had said they needed a place to be their authentic selves. To have time alone together in privacy. Having him plan this getaway made that proposal tempting. Myra rested her forehead against his chest, taking a moment to absorb the rhythm of his heartbeat, a cadence she'd known for so long.

Makai was right; they'd both danced around their feelings, tip-toeing on unspoken words, wandering through the maze of misunderstandings that made them live the consequences of their actions and suffer enough. In the quiet lull that followed, Myra felt a surge of emotions-- the ache of longing mingled with the desire for a future unshackled from regret.

Myra lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes reflecting the fire's glow and the depth of her affection for him. Shifting her weight, she leaned back, allowing her hands to slip free from under his hoodie. Myra brought them up between them, and the warmth of her palms soon cupped Makai's face, thumbs grazing over the contours of his cheekbones in an affectionate caress. She studied the beloved planes, those smoky gray eyes taking a mental holo picture. From the silky mop of chestnut hair to the tenderness reflected in his light eyes, the trace of a smile over his lips.

"Makai,” Myra’s voice trembled, weighted with the weight of their shared history and her longing for him all these years. "I've missed you... missed us."

He was right. She didn’t want to continue spending her time being unhappy. To live in regret. To flounder day by day like she had in the past six years, merely existing but never living.

“I don’t want to go through this again.” The separation, the lack of communication, to live without him.

“I won’t be able to survive it.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

“I’ve missed you too, so much.”

Makai reached up and took her hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing the back softly.

He had felt lost without her, like a ship with no home port. Her words were a balm to a weary soul, one who was tired of living a hollow existence. With her presence, her words, he was beginning to feel complete again. There would be no more sleepless nights wondering if she was safe and sound, if she was thinking about him, if she had moved on and forgotten him.

Ellie would remain at his side for the rest of their days together. It thrilled him to know there was an us in their future, that there was a future to look forward to. For the first time in a long time, he was excited to see what the next day would hold, what their next adventure would be.

“It's been us for so long. When it wasn’t us anymore, it was nothing but darkness. I’m complete now, we’re complete now, like pieces falling back into place.”

Fingers weaved into hers with the hand he took from his face, giving a squeeze as a silent promise. A promise he wouldn’t be going anywhere without her,that they were in this together.

“A long time ago, my dad told me….this will mold you into the man you’re meant to be or it will break you down. I was young, I didn’t understand what he meant, it didn’t even relate to the situation, or so I thought.”

By now, the phrase held a lot of nuance. The fact Makai had to be strong when she was sick. That he had to grow up incredibly quickly at such a tender age. Those experiences would leave scars in their wake,some raw and some healed.

“Ellie, you’ve molded me into the man I’m meant to be, it's always been you. There’s no one else who understands me. Who pushes me, tests me, is my biggest champion in the world. Who sees through my bullshit and isn’t afraid to call me out. Who isn’t afraid to love me, to stick by me.”

Another squeeze of her hand. He smiled, watching the swirling emotions in smokey-gray eyes, the depth of affection she had for him.

“I’m better when it's us. Face it Ellie you’re stuck with me for the rest of our days. No getting rid of me now.”