[ At some point in the day after their confrontation, Rey leaves a nondescript package containing the holorecorder she'd picked up the night before. Attached to it is the following note. ]
[ Boba has spent the intervening day in turns infuriated at the Jedi and infuriated at himself. His father's final message to him and he had lost it. Every time the word resounds in his mind, it feels more and more damning. He suspects he knows when it had happened—more likely than not, he had dropped it when the Jedi had frozen him in place. He'd been so focused on breaking her hold, on resisting her demands, that he hadn't noticed it slip from his grasp.
The blame in his mind shifts back and forth between her and himself and he lets it, even as it grinds him down, because it's still better than letting that anger settle and seeing what lies beneath.
Naturally, he's been searching for it. It's not where they'd had their confrontation nor can he find it anywhere else in Central Command—
Until he returns back to his quarters, failure an ever-growing weight on his back, to find the lost holo-recorder perched unceremoniously on the letterbox. He takes it at once, for a moment so preoccupied with checking that it's still functional and intact and the resulting relief that it is, that he almost misses the note attached to the back cover. Almost.
He reads it and his first instinctive response is anger, again. 'I wouldn't have lost it if it weren't for you,' he thinks, scowling at the name written along the bottom, but there's less heat there then there was before and even that doesn't last very long before being subsumed by cool relief.
Shall we start over? It's a stupid question. Boba doesn't forget sleights and he almost never forgives.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-25 11:50 pm (UTC)You dropped this.
Shall we start over?
- Rey
no subject
Date: 2023-01-27 12:22 pm (UTC)The blame in his mind shifts back and forth between her and himself and he lets it, even as it grinds him down, because it's still better than letting that anger settle and seeing what lies beneath.
Naturally, he's been searching for it. It's not where they'd had their confrontation nor can he find it anywhere else in Central Command—
Until he returns back to his quarters, failure an ever-growing weight on his back, to find the lost holo-recorder perched unceremoniously on the letterbox. He takes it at once, for a moment so preoccupied with checking that it's still functional and intact and the resulting relief that it is, that he almost misses the note attached to the back cover. Almost.
He reads it and his first instinctive response is anger, again. 'I wouldn't have lost it if it weren't for you,' he thinks, scowling at the name written along the bottom, but there's less heat there then there was before and even that doesn't last very long before being subsumed by cool relief.
Shall we start over? It's a stupid question. Boba doesn't forget sleights and he almost never forgives.
But... he won't forget this either. ]