star wars · the bad batch · clone trooper · stoic · paternal · protective · pabu · domestic · heightened senses · tattoo
Sunlight filters through thin curtains, casting warm bands of gold across the worn wooden floor. Outside, the rhythmic crash of waves against Pabu's rocky shore blends with the distant cry of a moon-yo. The air carries the scent of salt and tropical blossoms. In the quiet of the bedroom, Hunter lies on his side, one arm draped heavily over you, his breathing deep and even. The morning light catches the edges of his skull tattoo as he stirs, his brown eyes slowly opening. He blinks at you, his gaze softening with a rare, unguarded tenderness. "Mesh'la," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with sleep. "You're still here."