[ She watches, a little surprised at how quickly he shifts into the passenger seat but just as delighted to see him put to work (really, it's the whole thing: seeing him hold her gift, staying so focused on hanging it up to her weird specifications, looking just as happy as she feels). Eventually, she eases down into the drivers seat, one leg anchored in by the pedals and the other touching the asphalt floor of the parking lot. He looks to her, and Lottie hums. Pretends to "inspect" his work, managing to shrug off the smile on her lips for something a little more cool. ]
Hmmm.. More like this.
[ She says, after shifting the lantern to dangle a little more center (not that it matters, the fact its made its way here into his car, does). ]
But you got the general idea down so, I won't hold it against you.
[ Though Cassian had hung up the lantern, his hand had lingered, for what reason he can't exactly say. Maybe just in case Lottie would point to it and playfully make him re-adjust it until it was just to her liking.
But she doesn't and a part of him is maybe a little bit disappointed because that desire to reach out, to touch her however briefly, still lingers. It's mostly what has him reaching out, removing the lantern that he has to hang it up again. ]
Show me. I want to make sure it's right so I can remember if it gets moved.
[ It's not challenge. Not really. Maybe a little bit. But it's also an invitation as his hand lingers, holding the ornament in place and waiting for her to make a move. ]
[ She's about to take a sip of her drink, lips latching onto straw when Cassian takes it down. It's hard not to watch, to wonder what it is he's trying to do before he insists (show me). It's not a challenge— it's something close to a request, middling onto a vaguely needy because this is totally something she would do. It's cute. It's silly!
She doesn't bother hiding how cute and silly she thinks it is when she goes mhm around her straw, sips her coffee just to make him wait. It goes in his cup holder before she inches closer, eyes darting between him and his waiting hand. Her cheeks are a gentle warm by the time she's actually touching him, fingertips cold and damp to the touch. Nails dipping into divots of his skin where she isn't paying attention (which is impossible, to begin with— she's bouncing between the lantern to Cassian's stupid pretty face, then his stupid pretty hands). ]
We can take a picture, if you want? That way you can always remember the way I want it.
[ By the time they're finished, it is: perfectly aligned. Dangling the right amount to totally get in his way if he looks to the side, pretty enough to be forgiven for blocking his view. Idling a little to the left, sometimes, if gravity allows. With her own hand lingering by the lantern, idly grazing his when she thinks he isn't looking. ]
[ For whatever reason he can tell that she likes whatever...this is. And that makes him feel good about it too. That his quiet, unspoken offer, is something that was the right move since arriving here.
There's more than just warmth that sparks from the mere touch. It draws attention to other things - the softness of her skin, how unlike his they have no callouses or scars from cuts. It speaks of a different life. An easier one that, he hopes, isn't marred by a war that she has to fight in or know. The thought lingers in his mind, a quiet, silly wish that he hopes will remain true for her. Because the life that he lives isn't anything he wants for anyone.
Though the fight is never far from his mind but for now it is. And a part of him is glad for that because this moment manages to keep all his usual thoughts that plague him at bay. It's why, in part, he acquiesces to her request. Tugging out his phone he opens his very rarely used camera to snap a grainy - but good - photo that also happens to capture her hand in a far more artful way than he had intended. ]
[ Does it look good? It looks grainy and a little small, on his screen (call it being spoiled by having gigantic screens for so long), but it's perfect. Makes her feel like she's somewhere else— not quite home, but not quite this wasteland, either. A welcoming inbetween that's just them in his car, her looking at his phone, happy he took to her suggestion. That he listens to her, above all else. Like he cares.
(Historically, she is not used to this. Even amongst friends her voice tends to drown out, a fear that always sidles in the back of her throat. But that acid isn't lingering here, not with Cassian.)
She does like whatever.. This is. He does, too. Cassian looks lighter, a lot more charming than he usually is, asking for what she thinks of his picture. It makes her want to bite down how her smile grows but she doesn't have it in her, to curb her enthusiasm. For once, she feels no shame in letting someone (maybe, just him) see the full extent of her emotions as she nods, ]
Yeah.. It's good. [ Brown eyes look up to meet his, appreciation twinkling in them. ] Can you send me that??
[ It's the first photo someone has taken of her since arriving here. She likes how pretty it makes her feel, the small (unknowing) gesture. ]
[ Honestly the photo quality is far better than anything that he's got back in his galaxy. For all the advancements they have like planetary travel and advanced droids and medtech that they've got on Diadem and the other worlds that fluxdrift have hailed from, there are still some things like these phones that are clearly more advanced. It's not like he had taken a lot of photos before, and he certainly doesn't take many photos now. Not regularly. And if he does it's for practical things. Which makes this photo all the more special in its own way.
It's special because even if something were to happen to the lantern he has proof that it was there. That Lottie had cared enough to make something for him for no other reason than because she wanted to. And it's that fact - and the way Lottie looks so unguarded - that stick in his mind. It crosses his mind that that would be worth taking a photo of too but he's got better impulse control than some might give him credit for.
(That and he can't imagine that she'd be particularly pleased about that.) So instead he sends her the photo, unable to hide the smile that curls at the corner of his mouth. ]
There.
[ Silence falls between them again. It's not something that feels uncomfortable or embarrassing however - it just, is. It blankets them for a moment before he chooses to break it however reluctantly. ]
[ Lottie's own phone is sparse of photos— she's well aware of the size capacity the older units have in comparison to her more modern one she hides at home (sometimes, foolishly, on her person). So the fact he's spending some of his space on her — maybe, mostly, the trinket, but definitely her if she squints hard enough — gets her nodding. Excited, reaching out towards her back pocket to get her own device out and check. She doesn't have the wherewithal to be coy and nonchalant, she wants that picture and she wants it now.
Her eyes flick up towards him as she saves it, nails clicking loudly on the keyboard. It's got her smiling too, his glee, contagious in all the right ways. Enough to make her feel comfortable in their silence, emboldened in the little space they have sat in his car. Head a tad feather light because it's kind of cool, seeing him smile so much. Thanking her so warmly, personally, that she melts into her seat (his, if they want to get technical). ]
I know, Cassian.
[ That he means it. Lottie has a hard time telling when people are joking, typically, but with Cassian, right now? She can feel it. A hand reaches out for her drink, and twists shyly at the straw. A distraction in the midst of the sheer weight of everything catching up to her (and the cute curl of his stupid bang, the low rumble of his voice when he says her name), makes her brain go a little stupid when faced with his sincerity.. Their vibes. ]
You don't have to thank me. I love doing things out of the kindness of my heart! [ Is this PR talk? ] But you can say it again one more time, you know, if you want.
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no subject
Hmmm.. More like this.
[ She says, after shifting the lantern to dangle a little more center (not that it matters, the fact its made its way here into his car, does). ]
But you got the general idea down so, I won't hold it against you.
no subject
But she doesn't and a part of him is maybe a little bit disappointed because that desire to reach out, to touch her however briefly, still lingers. It's mostly what has him reaching out, removing the lantern that he has to hang it up again. ]
Show me. I want to make sure it's right so I can remember if it gets moved.
[ It's not challenge. Not really. Maybe a little bit. But it's also an invitation as his hand lingers, holding the ornament in place and waiting for her to make a move. ]
no subject
She doesn't bother hiding how cute and silly she thinks it is when she goes mhm around her straw, sips her coffee just to make him wait. It goes in his cup holder before she inches closer, eyes darting between him and his waiting hand. Her cheeks are a gentle warm by the time she's actually touching him, fingertips cold and damp to the touch. Nails dipping into divots of his skin where she isn't paying attention (which is impossible, to begin with— she's bouncing between the lantern to Cassian's stupid pretty face, then his stupid pretty hands). ]
We can take a picture, if you want? That way you can always remember the way I want it.
[ By the time they're finished, it is: perfectly aligned. Dangling the right amount to totally get in his way if he looks to the side, pretty enough to be forgiven for blocking his view. Idling a little to the left, sometimes, if gravity allows. With her own hand lingering by the lantern, idly grazing his when she thinks he isn't looking. ]
no subject
There's more than just warmth that sparks from the mere touch. It draws attention to other things - the softness of her skin, how unlike his they have no callouses or scars from cuts. It speaks of a different life. An easier one that, he hopes, isn't marred by a war that she has to fight in or know. The thought lingers in his mind, a quiet, silly wish that he hopes will remain true for her. Because the life that he lives isn't anything he wants for anyone.
Though the fight is never far from his mind but for now it is. And a part of him is glad for that because this moment manages to keep all his usual thoughts that plague him at bay. It's why, in part, he acquiesces to her request. Tugging out his phone he opens his very rarely used camera to snap a grainy - but good - photo that also happens to capture her hand in a far more artful way than he had intended. ]
There. Does that look good?
no subject
(Historically, she is not used to this. Even amongst friends her voice tends to drown out, a fear that always sidles in the back of her throat. But that acid isn't lingering here, not with Cassian.)
She does like whatever.. This is. He does, too. Cassian looks lighter, a lot more charming than he usually is, asking for what she thinks of his picture. It makes her want to bite down how her smile grows but she doesn't have it in her, to curb her enthusiasm. For once, she feels no shame in letting someone (maybe, just him) see the full extent of her emotions as she nods, ]
Yeah.. It's good. [ Brown eyes look up to meet his, appreciation twinkling in them. ] Can you send me that??
[ It's the first photo someone has taken of her since arriving here. She likes how pretty it makes her feel, the small (unknowing) gesture. ]
It's super artsy.
🎀🥺 wrap on yours?
It's special because even if something were to happen to the lantern he has proof that it was there. That Lottie had cared enough to make something for him for no other reason than because she wanted to. And it's that fact - and the way Lottie looks so unguarded - that stick in his mind. It crosses his mind that that would be worth taking a photo of too but he's got better impulse control than some might give him credit for.
(That and he can't imagine that she'd be particularly pleased about that.) So instead he sends her the photo, unable to hide the smile that curls at the corner of his mouth. ]
There.
[ Silence falls between them again. It's not something that feels uncomfortable or embarrassing however - it just, is. It blankets them for a moment before he chooses to break it however reluctantly. ]
Lottie - thank you again. I mean it.
yessss 🎀🥺
Her eyes flick up towards him as she saves it, nails clicking loudly on the keyboard. It's got her smiling too, his glee, contagious in all the right ways. Enough to make her feel comfortable in their silence, emboldened in the little space they have sat in his car. Head a tad feather light because it's kind of cool, seeing him smile so much. Thanking her so warmly, personally, that she melts into her seat (his, if they want to get technical). ]
I know, Cassian.
[ That he means it. Lottie has a hard time telling when people are joking, typically, but with Cassian, right now? She can feel it. A hand reaches out for her drink, and twists shyly at the straw. A distraction in the midst of the sheer weight of everything catching up to her (and the cute curl of his stupid bang, the low rumble of his voice when he says her name), makes her brain go a little stupid when faced with his sincerity.. Their vibes. ]
You don't have to thank me. I love doing things out of the kindness of my heart! [ Is this PR talk? ] But you can say it again one more time, you know, if you want.