Rising from my bunk, I stretch and shake off the remnants of a restless night. So much has happened in the past few days. I took Roan to Dathomir, reunited with my mother, and somehow ended up here on this ship with both him and Teya. I pull a robe around myself, reflecting on all the steps that led to this unexpected situation. But for all of it, things with Roan aren't unfolding quite as I’d hoped.
The man barely even looked at me the other day—not when I’d almost walked straight out in nothing but my skin. I’d thrown him every signal I could without being obvious, but he was like a rock. No reaction, no hint of anything more. My confidence took a hit I hadn’t anticipated. I've spent most of my life knowing what I want and going after it. But here, with him, I feel as if I'm looking into a mirror that shows only a wall. The only man I've felt this way for, and yet it’s like he's holding back an entire part of himself. And Teya—she’s another puzzle, scorning me at every chance, eyeing me with distrust just because I once walked a different path.
I pause, robe wrapped around me and clean clothes in hand, as I wait for the sonic shower. Through the door, I hear Teya humming to herself. It’s a soft, melodious tune, and for a brief moment, I let myself smile. Even in her guardedness, there’s a quiet beauty in her that’s hard to ignore.
The shower powers down, and the door opens just a crack. Teya peeks out, arm outstretched as she grabs her fresh clothes, obviously trying to avoid exposing herself. I can’t help but laugh out loud.
“What are you so ashamed of?” I tease, smirking.
Teya blushes, her green skin deepening to a rich shade of purple. “Some of us don’t like walking around in the nude,” she snaps, huffing as she clutches her clothes protectively.
I tilt my head, letting a smile play on my lips. “Trust me, you’ve got nothing to hide. So why keep all that under wraps?” My tone’s obvious, flirtatious even, though I’m not entirely sure if the undertone is welcomed.
“Mind your own business, Retra,” she says with a glare, pulling her clothes tightly to her chest.
“Fine, fine,” I say with a shrug, feigning indifference. “If you’re that easily upset.” She says nothing, but her gaze lingers on me for a moment longer than I expected before she brushes past.
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Once she’s gone, I step into the shower. The hum of the sonic waves relaxes me, easing some of the tension of the morning. I may act indifferent, but there’s no denying the isolation I feel, even surrounded by people who could be so much more. This entire crew—Roan, Teya—each of them pulls me toward a life I never thought possible, but with each pull, I feel an equal push away. A chasm of distance neither of us can seem to bridge.
As I leave the shower, a faint clinking from the engine room catches my attention. Roan’s voice hums softly over the tools, and I walk toward the sound, finding him focused intently on tinkering with some ship parts.
“Watcha doing?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
He doesn’t even look up. “Checking materials. Seeing what’s salvageable. Some components here are standard, but others might have unique parts we can use later.”
I smile, shifting my weight. “Why is it I never run into you at the shower?”
Roan looks up finally, giving me a steady, unreadable look. “Because I go early. Before either of you wake up. On purpose.”
My grin widens. “Oh, and when would that be?”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t bite. “Not telling.”
“No fair!” I pout, half-joking, half-sincere. His indifference has a way of stirring something defiant in me, a need to push his boundaries. To see what’s behind that calm, collected front.
After a moment, Roan turns back to his work, though I can sense he’s still aware of me there, leaning on the frame. “We’re heading to Telos IV. It’s on the way to the Outer Rim, and I can probably pick up some mechanic or artisan work to fund us a bit.”
“Why not try mercenary work? Or bounty hunting?” I suggest, half hoping for a reaction.
Roan frowns slightly, shaking his head. “Not really my style, and it tends to attract more attention than I’d like.”
I cross my arms, watching him as he works, tools and parts moving under his careful hands. “You’re an interesting one, you know that?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Most people would jump at the chance for quick credits, but you’d rather keep your head down, and work honestly. It’s... unique.”
He shrugs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I’m not looking for trouble, that’s all.”
For a second, his focus slips, and he meets my eyes. There’s something there—just a flicker, a glimpse of something more. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, and he goes back to his work as if nothing happened.
“Fine, stick to your low-profile jobs,” I tease, though the lightness in my voice feels strained. There’s a pang, a lonely echo of wanting more than just the surface of things with him.
Just then, Teya’s voice calls from the helm. “Retra! Roan! You two finished down there?”
Roan sighs, wiping his hands on a rag, and motions for me to follow. “Guess that’s our cue.”
As we walk toward the helm, I steal one last glance at him, feeling a swirl of thoughts, doubts, and hopes I can’t quite name. For now, I’ll let it go. But the hope remains, flickering like a flame that won’t quite die out.