Private Tome

[Haastal Haran]

Tome - To be together, not alone.
The Chambered Nautilus
Safira Haran
​

A day's rest and a bit of water had restored Haastal to something closer to what he was before the news had hit him. No small thanks were owed to Damsy and Safira, not only for retrieving the Mandalorian but also for putting up with what could best be described as a hot ass mess. When Haastal did recover from the depths of his mind he carried on like little to nothing had changed. He didn't want to think of all the bad shit in his head and instead turned his mind to something a bit more direct, the growling in his stomach.

It was close to two in the morning when Haastal rose from his bunk. He'd made his way to the Nautlius' kitchen and was shifting through whatever was available. He'd found some eggs, bacon, a few links of sausage, and some carrots. One of the carrots was clamped in between his teeth, hanging down while he set a pan on the stove. Within a few moments the eggs, bacon, and sausage were giving off a soft hiss as they cooked inside the pan. Haastal yawned, stepping back from the stove before his shirtless form earned an unwanted snap from the grease below.

He wished he could be his usual self, uncaring and unconcerned with the future.

No chance of that. Damsy and Safira had decided they would join Haastal on...whatever the feth he was doing.

What was he doing? He'd asked himself that a thousand times but not once did the answer come to him. He glanced over to the armored helmet on the counter and took it into his hands. The visor gazed back at him almost annoyingly. He bit his lip in frustration before tossing the helmet back on the counter with a loud clamor. Then it was as if his mind took it's own path.

"Six actions. Wear the armor, speak the language, defend yourself and your family, contribute to the clan, obey the rightful Mand'alor... Raise your kids to be Mandalorian." He chuckled dryly before lashing out in anger, swiping his helmet off of the counter and letting it fall without another thought. He turned back to the stove, stepping forward and stirring the contents with an obvious agitation as the muscles along his neck tightened.

"Mandalorian." He breathed. "Mandalorian..."

 

[Safira Haran]

T A G | Haastal Haran ​

​

Sleep had never been so welcomed by Safira as it had that night. After the fight with Haastal, then the decision to leave Clan Verd with him, she had never known tiredness like it. Collapsing into her bunk was the last thing she could remember before she welcomed the sweet embrace of darkness. If the tension riddled dreams were not enough to keep her awake, the smell that floated through her slightly cracked door was just the ticket.​

​

Safira might have been deaf, but her nose worked perfectly.​

​

Sitting up to a world of dark silence, Safira rubbed a hand across her sleepy eye as her nose sniffed the air cautiously. Eggs. Another sniff. Bacon. Two more sniffs. And sausage. Swinging her feet from the edge of her bunk, she let out a gasp of surprise as the cold floor attacked her skin. At least it woke her up enough to heave herself up to follow the scent.​

​

Her feet padded silently across the corridors, or at least, to Safira they were quiet. She could have sounded like a rancor trudging through a cave for all she knew. Sleep still claimed her mind for the most part, but her hand did its job in slipping the hearing aid into her ear and fiddling with the dial. The sounds of the ship came flooding in with one sharp beep, followed by Haastal’s soft muttering.​

​

“Why don’t you get a tattoo of the word, Has?” Her sleepy tone questioned teasingly. “Save us all the earache.” It wasn’t until she lifted her gaze from the floor to look at him that she noticed something was wrong. The tension on his shoulders pulled tight, his grip on the spatula, the helmet swaying back and forth gently against the metal floor. Safira crept forward, the edges of her oversized t-shirt brushing the tops of her thighs.​

​

“Has?” Her tone had softened immensely, and it was no longer riddled with the grog of sleep. “What’s wrong?”​

 

[Haastal Haran]

Safira Haran
​

He mentally cursed when he heard Safira's footsteps against the floor. He tried to visibly relax, but it was too late by the time the woman had entered the room. When she responded in her usual sass, he couldn't help but respond in kind. He gestured to the Mythosaur brand that covered his back, seared flesh long since healed over to form a fearsome creature. "Already put the damn thing on my back...it's above my ass which you can kiss if the urge hits you." He said, smiling softly at the banter the two shared. He set down the spatula he'd been using and turned back to Safira, waving a hand dismissively at her. "Just hungry. Get some food in me an' I'll be good."

"What you doin' up, troublemaker?" He asked her before realizing the clamor he must have been making. He approached the woman, his eyes glancing at her from top to bottom in a brief look. He'd given her that look before, but every time the two merely turned their eyes from one another. They weren't supposed to look at each other like that back them. What about now?

Haastal tried not to think about it too much.

"Thought you couldn't hear, don't tell me I woke you up?" He flicked her ear playfully before turning back from the woman and making his way to the stove.

"Want somethin' to eat?" He asked. He turned back to the woman and looked over the soft coco skin that she had. It caused him to exhale softly before turning back to the stove.

"You...are we good?" He asked, not turning to face her. "I mean...us? Like, we never talked about it or anythin' but..." He trailed off, setting the spatula down once again as he tried to find his words.

He fething hated moments like this.

 

[Safira Haran]

T A G | Haastal Haran ​

Casting a quick glance at his back, Safira was reminded of the puckered scar branded into his skin. Without even thinking about it, she pulled her eyes away as swiftly as she had looked at him. Something instinctual told her she wasn’t meant to see him like this, bare from the waist up.​

Safira couldn’t help but smirk at his quip, though the concern still had not left her face entirely. “Yeah, for all the good it does you.” She shook her head softly, sending tumbles of thick curls sprawling across her caramel face. When he approached her, she almost stepped back. Almost. She was keenly aware of his gaze as it drank in her attire. It felt strange, being alone with him like this. Like it was wrong, but Safira had no logical reasons as to why anymore.​

Hissing at him softly, followed by poking her tongue out at him, her hand shot to her ear to stop the inevitable screech of her hearing aid. “Lucky for beats of burden with no hand eye-coordination like you, I can’t.” When he made his way back to the stove, Safira made her way to the table to draw one of the chairs out as quietly as she could. Damsy was still fast asleep on the other end of the ship. It wouldn’t do any good to wake the little fish now. She needed her sleep far more than they did.​

“It was the smell of the food that woke me up, so kriff yeah I want some food.” Safira snuggled herself into the chair and drew her legs up to her chest, tugging the oversized shirt over her knees. Using the edge of the table, she spun herself round to face Haastal.​

When she was met with his back, she shot it a bemused look. “Could you be any more cryptic?” ​

 

[Haastal Haran]

There was no woman more infuriating to speak with than Safira. The woman preferred everything to be as direct as possible and while Haastal was usually the same, it tended to cause some kind of wall between the two. He tossed the spatula to the side before turning back to the woman. He watched her curl into herself before laying his hands flat on his chest, gesturing to himself. "I know the way I've felt about it so I'll cut the fat." He said before stepping closer to Safira, laying his hands flat on the counter while looking to the Mandalorian woman.

"You know what I'm talkin' about girl." He said before his tone went a bit lower, glancing over towards the hall to ensure they had a moment alone. "I mean us."

"Before Redd….feth even durin' Redd, there was somethin' there any maybe we didn't talk about it because it was just easier to ignore it. Well I ain't tryin' to ignore it anymore." He pushed off the counter before rounding it to stand over Safira with an expectant look in his eyes. He seemed as if he was going to say or do something before just turning back to the stove. He toyed with the food for a few moments before pulling out two plates and filling them with the food.

"Look...why did you leave Safira?" He asked her with a direct tone.

"You had it all, what made you turn your back on it?"

Safira Haran

 

[Safira Haran]

T A G | Haastal Haran ​

​

When Haastal threw the spatula down, Safira remarked him with a cocked head and a brow to match. It was far too early for him to be speaking in riddles and expecting her to work it out herself. The minute his tone dropped and his gaze shifted toward the door, the penny dropped.​

​

“Alright.” She said, raising her arms a little to hopefully calm him somewhat. “It’s two in the morning Has, give me a break.” Safira flashed him another smirk, but it lasted all of half a second as Haastal began to dive into his explanation further.​

​

She parted her lips somewhat to start answering him in the silence he left between looking at her and plating the food but Has interrupted her with a question. If she wanted blunt, then Haastal sure as hell delivered. Not knowing what to say for a few moments, she rocked back and forth slightly in the chair. Her toes hung uncomfortably off the edge, and in the quiet, she could feel how cold they were growing. When she opened her mouth again, she coupled it with an exhausted look.​

​

“What all did I have, Has?” Safira wrapped her arms around her legs and hugged them tight to her chest as she talked. “It wasn’t ever really meant to be a permanent home for me. I fit in there no more than you do. Isran was never the same after Nya left. It was nice with him for a while, I can’t deny that. We filled a gap for each other, for a time.” At this point, she paused to take a breath. She hadn’t really admitted this to herself yet, but now seemed as good a time as any. “When you said you were going, I didn't even need to think about it. It was easy to leave, you know?” Her gaze shot to the floor, where she could take solace in something that wouldn’t stare back at her.​

​

“Then when I did think about it, it was even easier. So I figured, if it was so easy for me to just imagine leaving, what was really keeping me there in the first place?” Her feet tapped gently against the edge of the chair in rhythmic ticks. “After that, I tried to imagine staying without you there…” Safira shrugged suddenly and used the edge of the table to spin herself just a little out of Haastal’s view. It was hard to look at him. There were so many feelings, and that didn't just include the ones they almost openly speaking about now. Guilt, frustration, nerves... Safira swallowed the lump in her throat. “Well, that idea sucked worse than leaving Clan Verd, so here I am.”​

 

[Haastal Haran]

What did she have?

Haastal figured it was always more than he had. When he searched his memory there was one thing about Clan Verd that had always been constant for the two, each other. Safira and Haastal were not born within Clan Verd as many were, instead they had become members of the Clan by adhering to it's law and accepting the code. A code that Haastal wasn't even sure applied to him and longer.

It had been easy to leave? Haastal wondered for a moment. What if things had been different? What if Safira had decided her time with the Clan had come to an end and she too wanted to leave? Would Haastal have stayed or would he have left with her? When she tucked tighter into her own chest he looked to her, letting a small smile come to his lips while he pushed her shoulder. He wouldn't let her turn from him, not right now.

Instead he leaned against the counter beside her.

Haastal never did have an overly serious or heavy gaze, but he did turn his eyes to Safira and flashed her a small grin. "You stupid as hell, you know that?" He smirked at her before leaning down and lacing his arms under her.

The way she was curled up only made it easier to lift her from the stool and set her on the counter. Once she was on the cool surface he looked up at her, his hands slowly grabbing her waist to steady her. She was warm.

"I'd have left it all for you too." He promised her.

"I don't know what comes next. I don't know where we're goin' and I damn sure don't know what it's goin' to look like but I want you by my side, ok?" He held up his hand for her to grasp.

"You watch my back and I'll watch yours."

"Clan Verd wasn't for us and that's cool. We're gonna do it together from now on with a new Clan and we'll make our own damn code."

Safira Haran

 

[Safira Haran]

T A G | Haastal Haran ​

​

“Oh.” Safira snapped back. “I’m the stupid one?” She was about to protest further when she felt his arms hook beneath her knees and drag her from the chair. For a brief moment, she squirmed against him to get free, but then she stopped. Her eyes never left his, even when her thighs spread across the cold counter, sending a jarring shock through her body.​

​

Haastal put his hands on her hips, and it was almost as though they were made to fit there. Despite being deaf, Safira could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears. It would take a long time for the unnerving sensation of guilt to fade from her stomach every time he touched her. So, for now, all she could do was revel in the adrenaline of it. As he lifted his hands for her to hold, the spot in abandoned on her waist grew slowly cold.​

​

What he said elicited somewhat of a smile on her face. Just like the guilt, it would take a long time for Safira to forget Clan Verd and what they had done for her. But just as Haastal’s touch had soothed the guilt, the grasp he held over her hands soothed the sorrow. Her gaze trailed from his arms, up to his face, then back down again quickly. She wanted to kiss him, but there was an awkward pit in her stomach that twisted and groaned each time she lent forward to do it.​

​

“This is weird.” She admitted sheepishly, a light colour flushing her cheeks. “In all the time I’ve known you there’s been this… thing between us, but there was always someone else in the way. When Nya left us I almost left too.” Safira flicked her gaze back up to meet Haastal’s eyes. “I almost left to find you, but I didn’t, and I regret every day. Now you’re here, and I’m here, and there’s nothing stopping it….” She swallowed the lump in her throat and shuffled forward until her legs swung freely from the edge of the counter. “It almost doesn’t feel real.” ​

 

[Haastal Haran]

Having Safira's hands within his own was enough to make Haastal's breathe fall slow and low. It felt different, so much different from every playful rush or friendly hug. Every time they'd come into contact with each other over the last few years it had been with nothing but an air between them that they both understood could not be acknowledged. So they never said anything, never did anything and now with her on the counter before him... It was more than a man like him could handle.

"Yea..." He chuckled when she said this moment was weird. Weird as hell and it felt like a betrayal. If Haastal had any way of feeling a deep sense of guilt, he would. He'd already betrayed Redd and now he was betraying Isran as well. The thought made his hands slowly slip out of Safira's, out of an instinct that was no longer valid. "There's nothing...stopping it." But them. They had spent years erecting a wall between them and in one single moment there had been a thousand cracks to form in this wall.

It doesn't feel real.

That wall had never felt more real.

Haastal knew right from wrong. This was wrong. The wall between them existed for a reason and yet with every single second he found himself drawn towards a single thought.

"Feth it..." He'd tear the wall down himself. Brick by brick.

Without warning and without any inclination of to what was going through his mind, Haastal closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Safira's.

It was wrong. It felt so good.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her to the edge of the counter so he could deepen the kiss between them.

This was wrong. This was hell...This was Haran.

Safira Haran

 

[Safira Haran]

T A G | Haastal Haran ​

​

Haastal didn’t just pull the wall down. He demolished it. Safira had always teased him for his tendency to be as subtle as a wrecking ball, but she could not have been more grateful for it in that moment. She was surprised, at first, doing nothing more than allowing his lips to press firmly against hers. A single action had never felt so wrong but so right at the same time. It announced a change in their relationship in deafening volumes that even Safira could not ignore.​

​

After a few moments of hesitation, Safira lost herself in it. There was guilt, yes, but it only spurred her on to kiss him harder. Her hands came to wrap around his neck. She was far more than willing to allow him to pull her to the edge of the counter. To draw their bodies to a near-impossible closeness. How could she be so breathless yet so invigorated? Her legs were next, wrapping themselves tightly around his hips as the kiss continued. Though she had not known it then, Safira was more than aware now.​

​

He was what she had been missing. The fact that he wasn’t hers was the reason why Clan Verd did not feel like home. Why her relationship with Isran had been degrading in recent months. Why everything she did felt so out of place and discordant. It had all been because of him.​

​

When they finally separated, she was far too out of breath to say much of anything. Except to release a slow, sultry sigh that came with years of pent up desire. The silence that followed was no longer awkward but filled with all the things that had gone unsaid for so long. Safira allowed herself a moment or two to catch her mind up to the situation. But it was only a moment before she found herself being drawn back to his lips by an indescribable magnetic pull.​

 

[Haastal Haran]

He'd waited years to taste her lips and no part of his imagination had done them justice. Safira's kiss was passionate and filled the man with a need for more. His hands grabbed her thighs with a rough grip as he kept the woman close to him. Her skin was warm and welcoming, every time his hand laid on her soft form, he grabbed her until it left a harsh bruise. He explored her body while they kissed, learning every curve, remembering every part of her.

When they finally did pull back from one another his eyes were set on the woman before him. He gazed at her before drawing his lips into a smile, a genuine smile that he did not often show. Again they met each other in a passionate kiss and this time Haastal pulled Safira from the edge of the table, grabbing her legs and bringing her down to the floor of the kitchen. It was cool as they rested down on the floor and lost themselves in each other's embrace.

They stayed there...for some time.

​

It was nearly daylight when Haastal and Safira found a moment of pause. The Mandalorian's back was to a counter in the kitchen, with Safira sitting in his lap. His breathing was rapid and erratic, yet he had one arm draped around Safira's chest as they sat together. The juice in his hand was refreshing. Drinking straight from the bottle, he let out a sigh of relief before holding the bottle out to Safira. He chuckled a bit before leaning down to roughly bite Safira's neck. "Think Damsy heard us?" He asked with a smirk. He pulled Safira back to his chest, enjoying the feeling of the warmth between their bodies.

"So you know what this means, right?" He whispered into her ear, before grabbing the back of her neck, forcing her to look back at the man. "Means you owe me a bacta patch." He said, running his hand across his back before showing Safira the stray traces of blood from her enthusiasm.

Safira Haran

 

[Safira Haran]

T A G | Haastal Haran ​

​

Flushed with all shades of red and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Safira collapsed back against Haastal’s chest. His breathing matched hers. Shuddering as they attempted to draw fresh air in the confines of the metal ship. Waves of cold radiated from the bottle in Haastal’s hand. Safira eyed it hungrily.​

​

When he offered it out she wrapped her hand around it eagerly, relishing the cool beads of condensation that trickled through her fingertips. One of her hands swatted him away playfully as he nibbled the nape of her neck. She smirked into the rim of the bottle when Haastal asked his question, following it with a shrug of her shoulders. “I think she needs to get her ears checked out if she didn’t.” Settling back into his chest, she took another moment of respite in the icy drink, but she almost spat it back out when Haastal’s fingers dug into her neck.​

​

The smirk on her face stretched wide as he revealed the glisten of crimson on his fingertips. “If I owe you one…” She spoke as she leant forward to kiss each one in turn. “…then you owe me two.” She guided the very same hand down to her thigh, where he would no doubt feel the deep gouges in her flesh. She caught his lips in a quick kiss, before pulling away to indulge in the juice again. The kitchen was in no better shape than they were.​

​

Some part of her had the decency to feel slightly guilty about the mess they had made, but Haastal’s arms around her chest stopped it from being overbearing.​

​

“We should probably sort this mess out before she wakes up for real.” Safira cast her gaze up to him with a slight smirk written on her face. “She’ll flip chit if she finds out you’ve smashed more things.” Despite what she had said, she made no move to free herself from Haastal’s embrace. Now the wall between them was gone, Safira knew she had no regrets choosing to leave Clan Verd. Time and Haastal would heal the rest. She’d spent a large part of her life feeling out of place, or like she didn’t truly belong, but with her arm wrapped tightly around her chest… she had never felt less so.​

​

Her head lopped lazily, nestling into the crook of his neck as her fingertips traced gentle patterns across his forearm. “If I’d known it was going to be like this, I would have left a long time ago.” ​

 

[Haastal Haran]

Haastal chuckled at Safira's reply to what he'd said. He could feel where he'd bitten deep and hard into her thighs to the point of piercing flesh and drawing blood, a lot of blood. Still, she'd be fine and so would he. The two sat there for a moment before Safira mentioned they should clean up the kitchen before Damsy rose from her sleep. Haastal looked over the kitchen, noticing how half of the cookware had fallen to the ground through Haas and Safira's abandon.

"Yea, that girl's gonna lose her mind if she sees this." Even he couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of his niece rising into a rage over the nearly destroyed kitchen. He didn't move any more than Safira did and instead kept her bare back firm against his chest, his teeth drawing down to bite into her neck once again. He heard what she'd said and his bite turned soft before he rested his cheek against the woman.

"I don't give a damn about the past anymore...just you and me...and the fish in the back room." He chuckled out audibly before exhaling, running his hands over Safira's shoulders to guide her out of his lap. He rose from his seated position, drawing his back into a long, tight stretch before exhaling in relief. "We still gotta figure out our next move." He said, before his hand snatched at Safira's wrist, pulling her towards him aggressively. "Hey." He said, looking down at the woman before one of his rough hands came up to caress her cheek.

He'd never realized it before this.

She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"You're mine now." He promised her, saying nothing more before letting her fall from his grip. His other hand did come to spank her backside softly before he turned back to the mess of cookware on the floor. Haastal started to pick up the mess, tossing things onto the stove and then the counter as he tried to get the mess sorted into some kind of organization. "We need weapons, credits, and Beskar. Before we left, Redd and I had hit a whole bunch of pirate trade ships filled with Beskar. We were just interceptin' them but on the last one I found out that they were comin' from an outpost on a planet called Gamorr."

"As long as Isley doesn't send anyone first...maybe we head there and take the Beskar?" He suggested with a smirk.

Safira Haran

 

[Safira Haran]

T A G | Haastal Haran ​

​

Safira nodded her head. Damsy certainly would flip. She’d already paid out a sizeable chunk of credits to fix that bar up, despite Safira warning her that it was a chit hole before they arrived. Then Haastal smashed the mirror… now this.​

​

Abandoning the juice on the floor beside her, Safira let her head fall back to rest on Haastal’s shoulder. A shudder that stood her hair on end travelled through her body as his teeth sank into her flesh once more. She did not swat him away this time. Instead, Safira found herself smirking. They had a lot of time to make up for. Fortunately, before anything could spiral again, Haastal shifted her weight from his lap and finally stood up. Safira watched his every move hungrily.​

​

“I guess we do.” There hadn’t been much thought from Safira beyond the fact that she was leaving Clan Verd, but Haastal was right. If they were going to try and make it on their own, they needed a solid plan. She was just about to stand up when his grip wrapped firmly around her wrist and yanked her from her spot. Safira let out a gasp of surprise, and then a laugh followed with a shake of her head. “Hey.” She replied with a subtle smile on her face.​

​

Not normally one for the more feminine side of life, Safira rarely took to romantic notions, but Haastal’s soft touch on her cheek made her heart skip a beat. A slow blush crept over her cheeks when she noticed his intense gaze drinking her in.​

​

”Bal gar cuyir pal’vut.” And you are mine.​

​

When he finally let his grip fall, Safira took a moment or two to stretch the ache from her limbs and wiggle back into her oversized t-shirt. Somewhat decent again, she began to help Haastal tidy away the mess in the kitchen. “Damsy could for sure use some beskar.” She agreed. “I don’t think Isley even notices we’ve left yet, Haas. Only person who could tell him is Redd and she doesn’t know we’ve left with you.” As scooped up some shards of shattered plate, covered in bacon and sausage grease, Safira caught Haastal’s eye. “But if we’re gonna do it, we better do it soon. We have a small window of opportunity on this one.”​

 

[Haastal Haran]

While they cleaned the kitchen and threw away the shards of glass and plastic, Haastal sucked his teeth when he realized something. This caused him to smirk a bit. "Yea, nobodies noticed we've left and we don't have any tethers to The Confederacy. Means we can do what we want..." He said with a smirk before grabbing a knife from the floor. He flipped it until the handle came to rest in his hand and then he spoke his mind. "We can sack all of the smuggler dens, pirate camps, and slave markets from here to the Silver Concord territory. It's what the Mandalorians did in the old days right? Why not do it again?" He tossed the knife onto the counter before shifting to lean his back against the wall.

"What do you think?" He asked her. "A few good scores, some shipments of Beskar and then we can find home anywhere we want." It was as if something clicked in his mind. "Yea, home..." He muttered softly to himself before looking to Safira. "We gotta find a home. We can buy anything with enough credits, but where? Even if we raid through the Outer Rim we still need a place to lay our head."

When the woman said they had to move soon, Haastal nodded in agreeance. "We can leave when the Guppy wakes up. Head to the pig-man planet, find the Beskar and then find our first score."

"Way I see it, we got enough food and fuel to last us a week or two, but after that if we don't find some credits...well we'll be drifting in the Outer Rim on E."

"Hell, I got a few old accounts from my Mercenary days, but most of those don't have more than enough for a few bites to eat." While Safira finished cleaning, Haastal crossed the room to her, his hand grabbing her shoulder before he pressed his body against hers, pushing her back to the wall. His hand came up around her neck and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. "Long as I got you? We'll make it just fine..."

Safira Haran

 

[Safira Haran]

T A G | Haastal Haran ​

​

Safira nodded at Haastal’s thoughts. While the sentiment wasn’t necessarily a nice one, it was true enough. They had a short amount of time before people started getting suspicious though, and then it would only be so long before the pieces began to fit together. “Within reason.” Safira shot Haastal a cautious look. They could do whatever they wanted, but what they didn’t want right now was to draw crazy amounts of attention to themselves.​

​

However, an old school raiding party did sound like fun.​

​

“I think it’s a great idea, in theory. We’ll have to see what Dams says when she wakes up.” At the mention of home, Safira merely shrugged her shoulders. She was used to moving around a lot. Back when Nya was around, they had too. The woman had a record hot enough to burn whole cities to cinder. When Nya left, she and Isley kept it up, out of pure habit. It was only recently that they had decided to settle, but it was still far from what Safira considered home.​

​

With a pensive gaze, she turned to Haastal. “I guess we’ll deal with home when it comes down to it. For now, the ship is big enough for all three of us. We can stay on it while we raid through the outer rim and settle when we have enough to make it decent.” She hated the idea of buying some ramshackle, barebones apartment on some seedy outback planet. That part of Safira’s life was far over now. If they were going to do this, she wanted to do it properly.​

​

“I have credits enough to keep us going for a few months.” Safira spoke as she turned her attention to the discarded cooking utensils Haastal had thrown haphazardly onto the counter. “Isley wouldn’t ever let me buy anything so I tucked the shares I got from raids into an account. Should be enough to cover us until-…” At that point, she felt Haastal’s hand wrap around her shoulder. Before she knew it, the wall was pressing against her as hard as Haastal was.​

​

She caught his kiss with a sultry smile on her face, and returned it with as much passion as it had been given with. However, when Haastal pulled away, Safira lifted her leg and wedged it between them, using her knee to push him backward slowly. “Don’t start again.” A wild smirk played on her lips. “We’ve probably already traumatised Damsy. I don’t fancy adding a therapy bill onto our growing list of expenses.”​