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The inside of the Temple was brighter than Ahsoka remembered. It seemed as if somehow more light flooded the halls, even though she knew that wasn’t really possible. Ahsoka slowly walked past doors and through the passageways that she once spent the majority of her formative years in.
To her left was Caleb’s room, Barriss’s a few doors down, and then her own.
She imagined the small quarters that were once hers belonged to someone else now.
But today wasn’t one for reflecting on darker memories. The war was over. The galaxy was rejoicing. The war hadn’t necessarily been won, but more so dissolved. Today was the last day of the former Chancellor’s prosecution. There was no doubt in her, or anyone’s, mind that he would be executed, what with everything he confessed to Anakin. Unlike Maul, he was far too dangerous to be kept alive. The rest of Sidious’s doings, well, the Council had either gotten him to spill or discovered on their own.
Sidious would soon be brought to justice and the galaxy was eager for it.
Anakin and Padmé were spearheading the event and making decent waves that no one could find any falsehood in. Although, no one really had any qualms about that. Even the former Separatists awaited his death.
For once, the possibility of the future was unknown, but it was surely bright.
Ahsoka came to stand in front of Anakin’s door. He’d told her to just go in and retrieve her datapad, telling her she could find it in the drawer beside his bed.
She accessed the room and was shocked to find so much inside. She’d never before been on this side of his door. Now that she thought about it, Ahsoka had actually never seen what the Masters rooms looked like, or rather any living quarters that didn’t belong to a Padawan. Although she’d been to the clone barracks many times, she’d never seen behind the doors of those with a high rank. She’d only seen their stacked bunks or pods.
Ahsoka closed the door softly behind her and took in the contents of the room. Anakin had a workbench to the immediate left of the door, littered with tools and tiny parts. A tactical droid’s head and some droid fingers sat on the desk as well. He told her he’d planned on fixing her old datapad, but hadn’t gotten around to it. Ahsoka was always careful with her small amount of possessions, so she wasn’t sure exactly what had happened to it in her absence.
Anakin also had two large trunks, a shelf, a meditation seat, and even a sculpture near the windows. Having a taste for art wasn’t something she knew about her Master. Next to a few stacked supply crates, he had even more. An artistic podracing poster was tacked to the wall and a miniature model Jedi Starfighter sat underneath. She squinted at the poster and recognized one of the names from stories he’d told her about living on Tatooine.
She lightly laughed to herself. She’d heard the saying before — the one about being able to glimpse into the interior of someone’s life simply by seeing how they chose to decorate their room. Until now, Ahsoka hadn’t known what that truly meant. Her own room had always been bare, with minimal decoration or furniture. But that’s how it was for the Padawans. She assumed it was more or less the same throughout the Temple. Even during her time in the underworld, she’d not had a room to call her own, nor did she ever see the inside of the rooms of the Martez sisters.
Anakin had a standard sized bed in the right side of his quarters. It was lifted off the floor, whereas hers was always a palette on the ground. She spotted the drawer he spoke of and approached it. Before she opened the top drawer though, she thought twice, and sat on her knees to pull the handle of the bottom one.
The only thing residing inside was the box he’d kept her sabers in. She recognized it from the day he’d given them back to her. She knew that they weren’t inside, however, as the twin hilts were clipped securely at her sides, but Ahsoka reached inside and pulled the box out anyway.
Her datapad was hiding underneath. She took it out as well and placed it on the bed, then balanced the box atop her knees, and opened it.
Nestled inside were her old Padawan beads.
Ahsoka sucked in a breath and ran a finger over the silka beads she’d not seen since she returned them to her Master — rejecting the Council’s offer to return to the Jedi… to rejoin them as a Knight.
She closed the box abruptly and placed it back inside the drawer. Turning her attention back to the datapad, she could tell why Anakin had mentioned fixing it. The screen was unmistakably cracked in the shape of a heavy thumbprint, the back dented and scratched by a sort of metal… in the pattern of another four fingertips.
Anakin must’ve gripped it too tight in his robotic hand.
Sighing, she took the damaged ‘pad and activated her comlink. Anakin was currently preoccupied with going through an extensive amount of incriminating evidence with the courts, but there was one other person who might be able to help to repair it. The report on Mandalore, after all, was one rotation overdue. Between testifying in Maul’s trial and thinking about the person she was now contacting, Ahsoka hadn’t been able to bring herself to work on it.
The light on her arm didn’t flash long before the man she sought had answered.
Rex’s voice was clear and filled Anakin’s room, “Commander? You called.”
Ahsoka felt a small smile tug at her lips and she spoke the words he’d known well to expect, “Rex, it’s just Ahsoka now.”
She could hear the grin in his voice as he lingered over her name, “Ahsoka. What do you need?”
“Think you could fix a broken datapad? My old one isn’t turning on and I have a report due.”
“The Mandalore report?” he asked. She knew he’d have something to say about her late start on it.
“That would be the one,” Ahsoka confirmed.
Rex waited a moment, “Well, I’m not as good with that kind of thing. That’s more General Skywalker’s gig, but I understand he’s still held up with legalities at the moment. Tell you what. Bring it to the barracks and I’ll see what I can do. Meet you out front in twenty?”
“Meet you out front in twenty,” she repeated and the light on her comm turned off.
The gunship swooped down by the Republic military base twenty-six minutes later. Ahsoka stepped out of the hovering vehicle and it departed, blowing her lekku in the wind that it created. Rex was already waiting out front, by the First Battle Memorial, his helmet under his arm.
He was ever the outwardly dignified Captain. Even now that the war had been several rotations ended, he had yet to trade in his armor for civvies.
“Rex,” she greeted, jogging up to him, “Sorry I’m late.”
The playful half-smile that she loved took over his face, “Well, some things never change, do they?”
She only laughed in response as he turned to escort her inside. Entry into the base would require his assistance now, as she no longer held the clearance to do so on her own.
“Have you given any more thought into Skywalker's proposition?” Rex raised a brow, looking down at her as they passed by the endless names of his first fallen brothers.
Ahsoka knit her brow markings and clasped her hands behind her back before meeting his eyes again. Exhaling, she responded, “I… have. I still don’t know if I’m going to take it or not. The Council was more than generous with it. After Anakin came forward with Palpatine’s confession, they promoted him to Master… even though he was only on the Council at all by the request of a Sith. Seems they’re handing out several forms of apologies.”
Rex tilted his head, not having known about his General’s change in Jedi ranking. He still hadn’t seen the man since they split up the 501st and each took off in different directions. He should’ve expected that his friend would reap some kind of reward for turning over a Sith Lord. Ahsoka had. But Anakin Skywalker had been the last thing on Rex’s mind. Between the uncertain future of the clones and the woman walking alongside him, Rex hadn’t thought of much else.
Ahsoka had told him days ago about Skywalker’s offer. He’d apparently spoken to her right after they brought Maul back to Coruscant. Rex hadn’t seen her since relinquishing the lesser Sith, but she’d briefly called him to explain what had been offered to her before having to take the stand and recount everything Maul had said to her.
The musing Togruta continued, “He’d have more room to help me, to better a Council and an Order with me in mind — with everyone in mind. The system was flawed before. It failed me… but it also failed others, and in more ways than one. I just don’t know if I can count on a promise he may not be able to guarantee.”
“You need to see a change to believe a change,” Rex gathered aloud.
“Yes,” Ahsoka confirmed, “I’m hesitant to dedicate myself to something so blindly again.”
Rex nodded at a passing trooper and responded, “I don’t blame you… and I know Skywalker doesn’t either.”
Ahsoka smiled softly and they approached the entry. Two guards stopped them and Rex vouched for her, gaining her a visitor’s pass. The oversized doors parted and the guards granted them passage inside.
Many men in blue saluted her as they made the journey down the gray halls to where the 501st resided. Along the way, troopers sporting 212th orange saluted her as well.
Closer to where she knew their barracks to be, Ahsoka began to see troopers donning her orange and sporting helmets with her markings on them — troopers that served under her command on Mandalore. Her company.
Rex took notice of her reaction and chuckled, “Still haven’t gotten used to that, huh?”
She shook her head, smiling, “I don’t think I ever will.”
They stepped through the open blast doors of the familiar barracks and it was similar to being inside the Temple again. It, too, was somehow brighter inside, despite lacking much of any natural sunlight. The men had a more elated energy about them. Even though Ahsoka always knew them to be high-spirited, they were impossibly so now.
No more of their brothers had to die.
Jesse waved to her from across the room, before standing at attention and saluting her, a toothy grin plastered to his face. She gave him a nod, as if to say “at ease” and he shot her a playful wink before pointing to his cheating Sabacc card under his hand gauntlet.
Ahsoka caught Rex’s eyes upon facing forward again. He was smiling softly and had a slight pink tinge to the tips of his ears. The door to his Captain’s quarters was in sight, only a few more paces away when she realized she’d never before been inside of his room either. The implications of that alone excited her when she knew it shouldn’t have. Similar feelings are what was making the proposition that Anakin had given her so difficult to accept.
Right now, she wasn’t a Jedi. She wasn’t bound to their standards, their expectations, or to their rules. No longer was she confined to ideals on attachments that she’d so helplessly broken. Ahsoka had allowed her attraction and her feelings to thrive instead of burying them… she wanted to follow them.
She couldn’t be a Jedi and love Rex at the same time.
The Jedi had been indoctrinated to believe that love was only comprised of loss and misunderstood possession, when it really runs so much deeper than that and not necessarily in a negative way.
“Commander,” a voice called. Both Rex and Ahsoka looked off in the direction in which it came.
“Yes?” they asked in unison.
It was a man in Captain’s gear.
Vaughn had already been replaced. Her heart sank briefly before she stood up straighter, preparing to receive the trooper’s message. Rex was looking at her again out of the corner of his eye, a smirk on his lips as it dawned on her that he was now the Commander in question and not her. Ahsoka gave a shy smile and relaxed her shoulders.
The Captain was now within earshot and saluted Ahsoka before continuing, “Commander Rex. Your presence has been requested by Commander Cody of the 212th.”
An apologetic look was shot in her direction. He needed to see to the matter. Her brow markings furrowed and she nodded, “It’s okay. You go ahead.”
“I’ll be back shortly. You can go on in,” he pointed to his door, “Use my datapad in the meantime and I’ll have a look at yours when I return.” He then turned on his heel and followed the new Captain back through the way they just came.
Ahsoka watched him leave for a moment longer than she should’ve and then took unsure strides to his quarters. His door was nothing spectacular or unique. It was stark gray and just one the middle of a long line of identical doors. The only indicator that the door even belonged to Rex at all were the barely visible, tiny tally marks he’d scribbled into one corner. It was the one and only time he’d ever ended up drunk in her presence.
The memory was bittersweet. It was one of the first instances she’d spent time with the men outside of a mission. She was a little older then and had begun to appreciate their company as friends instead of just coworkers. Fives shared her same sarcasm and brazen spirit. She and Jesse had a similar sense of what qualified as humor. Kix was her reservation and held her same silent eagerness for discourse. Of course, men had come and gone. Echo no longer sat on the crate beside Fives and reprimanded him and Jesse for cheating in Sabacc. Even Cody was around less and less towards the end.
But Rex was always there.
Rex was Ahsoka’s values and morals, her honor and duty, her stability and security. He was the closest person to her heart. Rex was her balance. No matter the men that stayed or passed on… Rex was always her constant. He was always there to count on, to lean on, to confide in. He was everything she wanted.
Ahsoka took one last look at the lively barracks. It had been years since it looked this way. Though, she hadn’t seen it in a while due to her extended leave of absence. Spending her free time with them was always her favorite, though she never did see The Captain Rex touch a glass of Tihaar ever again. Mostly, he just sat by or filled out reports and, more often than not, would retreat into his quarters to finish them in peace.
He’d always kept the door open to keep an eye on everyone though — babysitting the men who were babysitting her. She laughed inwardly at her younger self. Rex would have died if he knew Fives and Jesse both let her steal a small sips of Tihaar from the cap of the bottle.
Ahsoka pushed the panel button and was granted entry into Rex’s room. The lights were off and she felt around on the inside panel for the button. In doing so, she’d sealed herself inside. She let out a small yelp as the door hissed closed and left her shrouded in both darkness and in silence. Feeling around a bit more, and with a little help from the Force, Ahsoka found the right button for the lights.
They didn’t work.
Sighing, Ahsoka stepped further into Rex’s room, reaching out with her arms and taking small steps to navigate. There was a desk on the wall beside the door. She felt the back of a chair pressed up to it and scraps of flimsi peeking out from a drawer. Her index finger ran over the unmistakeable edge of a datapad and she rejoiced, tapping the screen and illuminating the room. Enough light was cast for her to see a desk lamp and so she flipped the switch.
It was a dim light, but it was better than being in the dark.
Ahsoka sat her broken datapad on the desk beside Rex’s and then picked his up. It was in much better shape than her own. Pulling out the chair, she took a seat and began her dreaded report. Each sentence and event she typed out felt like unorganized gibberish. She’d never been too fond of this part of a battle and thankfully, Anakin had rarely asked her to do it. It was usually up to him and Rex to fill them out. However, the Siege of Mandalore had been her and Rex’s mission and he had already submitted his report. It was no longer an option she could opt out of. She had to do it. Recounting the battle in legal terms was difficult. She didn’t see why she couldn’t give a verbal testimony.
She began to swivel in Rex’s chair and allow her wandering thoughts to fuel her procrastination.
Rex’s room was small and mostly gray, save for the stained orange paintbrush on a crate in the corner. Then there was his cleaning kit for his blasters. It was black but she could see the faintest of dried orange paint droplets on it as well. Ahsoka smiled, forgetting her report.
Rex and Anakin had both given her a gift she couldn’t possibly be able to repay them for. What Rex had the men do for her… It was the kindest gesture she’d ever received. To have a whole company of men dedicated to only her not just in their unwavering loyalty or their assignment, but in their armor as well. Although Ahsoka was relieved that the war was over, she did wish she’d gotten to have more missions with them; gotten to know them better.
But perhaps the Republic would have use for them yet during this time of transition.
Ahsoka spun in the chair again and the back of it grazed the flimsi sticking out of the desk drawer. She ceased her movements and furrowed her brows. It was odd. It was the only thing out of place besides the paint brush.
The rest of Rex’s room was as neat as it could be. The small bed was made and the corners all tucked and crisp. Even his pillow didn’t appear slept on. Not a single speck of dust could be seen either. Unlike Anakin, Rex’s room was organized and pretty standard. It reminded her of her old room as it didn’t tell too much of a story. Just at first glance, she could gather that he was a stickler for tidiness. But she already knew that about him without needing to step into his quarters. Rex appreciated order and an environment that he could relax in. If there was no organization… he couldn’t sit still.
Curiosity nipped at her. In a room so pristine and well kept, there was still the outlier of his desk drawer.
Ahsoka turned to face it, careful not to swipe up against it with the chair again. A few corners of the gray pages poked out and, by the looks of one, something was written on them.
Holding her breath, she opened the drawer. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly. Inside were innumerable swatches of orange paint, all different in shades, stacked in front. He’d tried over and over again to find the perfect shade of orange… all for the paint for the helmets. Rex wanted an exact match. There were also a few stencils filed neatly beside the paint samples. Ahsoka picked them up. Only one had paint on it. That was the one they’d evidently used to paint their helmets with.
Her heart lurched and she finally looked to where the pages that previously stuck out of the drawer had fallen inside. Still, they were the only thing about this drawer that wasn’t neatly filed away. She flipped them over.
One was a drawing, but it was different from the stencils she’d seen. Rex had sketched his signature jaig eyes to encase her markings. She bit her lip and didn’t ignore how she liked it. Both of the markings looked better together rather than on their own. Running a finger over her forehead, Ahsoka moved onto the next scrap of flimsi.
It was a handwritten letter… addressed to her… and had today’s date in the corner.
Suddenly, the Force pricked at her fingertips and caused her montrals to buzz. Her skin went hot and she stood up. The door opened before she had enough time to put her findings back.
Clutching the flimsi to her middle, she looked at Rex and then quickly down to her feet.
His back straightened and he closed the door behind him, yet again sealing them off from the rest of the barracks.
“Sorry, I meant to tell you the lights shorted out this morning. But you found that out yourself…” he trailed, “You also found something else it seems.” A gloved hand went to the back of his neck and she recognized his embarrassment.
Ahsoka’s face burned. He’d caught her red-handed rifling through his very personal, very private belongings.
Rex stepped closer and her heart jumped into her throat. She was breathing harder, her chest rising and falling faster. What had he written her? Why had he drawn their markings together?
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, handing him the flimsi, “I didn’t read it.”
All Ahsoka could think was that he was leaving the 501st, leaving Coruscant, leaving her.
He took the pages she’d offered back to him and forced himself to look her in the eye. The flimsi was placed face down on the desk and he took a seat on the chair. “This the datapad?” he asked, skipping over the awkward conversation about her plundering.
She cleared her throat, “Yes. My best guess is—”
“The General,” he finished, an amused look on his face.
“How’d you guess?” Ahsoka shot him a teasing grin before adding, “He’s never exactly been known to handle his emotions very well.”
Rex pressed a few buttons on the device and cracked a grin, “Don’t you mean to say he’s been known to not handle them at all?”
Ahsoka laughed loudly at his cheeky comment, in a mix of both her embarrassment and his comedic relief. He raised a brow at her before smiling and opening a different drawer to retrieve some tools. She could physically feel the guilt in her chest when he looked up towards the pages she’d fished out of the other drawer — pages he clearly hadn’t meant for her to see. “I’m gonna replace the screen. If that doesn’t work then I’ll send it in for maintenance; let them have a look at it. I can’t let you leave with mine, but you’re more than welcome to stay here until you finish your report,” he explained as he began working on the screws.
Sighing she leaned up against his wall, twiddling her fingers nervously.
“You don’t have to stand. Have a seat on the bed,” he suggested, his words bringing a flame to settle in her cheeks.
She obliged with buzzing nerves and picked up his datapad, taking a second stab at the Mandalore report. It was futile, really. It was difficult enough to complete before she’d happened upon such compelling information. Now, the task was nearly impossible. She kept glancing up to where Rex worked diligently on her outdated and dusty datapad, carefully taking it apart to access the affected glass. A new heat settled into her lekku and she huffed.
Rex quirked his brow again and glanced back at her, “It’s not going to write itself. Report’s overdue as it is.”
Ahsoka groaned. She knew he’d say something about it. She’d been… otherwise preoccupied with her thoughts instead of completing it. Anakin’s offer hadn’t been as easy to mull over as she’d anticipated. Returning to him, to Rex, had changed things. Her dynamic with her Captain was different and in a way she enjoyed immensely. The amount of playful banter and flirting during the siege…
He spoke again after a few minutes, “I’ll let you read the letter.”
Her heart rate sped up.
“If,” he paused, pointing a tool at her, “And only if… you finish the report right here right now. I’m not letting you leave until it’s submitted.”
He’d said something similar to her once when she was still freshly Anakin’s Padawan. That time, it had been about the Blue Shadow Virus report and she was promised a try on of his helmet if she finished on time.
Ahsoka tilted her head and smirked, repeating his earlier words, “Some things never change, do they?”
“I hope not,” he said, his voice softer, more breathy. Rex lost himself in her eyes in the exact way he had aboard the Tribunal and so he tore them away, going back to fixing her broken ‘pad. The lingering looks and glances between them made his hands clammy.
On the bed, Ahsoka swallowed. She didn’t want to presume what he’d written to her… but she did have one hope in mind. Her eyes squeezed briefly as she caught her breath and began tackling the task she’d put off for longer than she’d been allotted. Deft fingers worked quickly to describe the events of the initial siege and the encounter with Maul, both the verbal and the nonverbal. She found it easier to recount it in the correct verbiage if she imagined that it was Master Plo telling about the events and not herself. He always had the right words. She wondered what he’d tell her now, how he’d guide her if he knew the deepest contents of her heart.
And so Ahsoka found that she’d finished with her report — which was quite possibly the last one she’d ever be asked to do, that was, if she turned Anakin down for the second time.
Rex’s datapad was placed on the expanse of bed next to her. It was only then that Ahsoka fully realized she was sitting on Rex’s bed. Jittery fingers placed themselves on her kneecaps as she attempted to calm herself.
“Rex?”
“Finished?” he asked, focused on the job in front of him.
She smiled at the hint of authority in his voice, “You know I outrank you, right?”
“Do you, citizen?” he asked, a wide grin spreading over his face as he mocked a certain Jedi Master.
She folded her arms, “Oh, I’m sorry. What was that thing you said about experience?”
He laughed, grabbing the scraps of flimsi from the desk and offering them back to her, “You’ve still got a ways to go, but you’re catching up.” Ahsoka reached for the letter and Rex’s amused expression waned, becoming more serious, “Ahsoka…”
The Togruta felt her blood run hot and rush in her veins. He’d used her name that time and her heart sang with the way it fell from his lips.
“Please don’t let the contents of this letter construe how you perceive me. There’s nothing I cherish more than what we have,” he pleaded.
Wordlessly, Ahsoka nodded and took the pages, beginning to read.
Ahsoka,
I can’t seem to get this letter where I want it. This now makes the fifth that I’ve written. I’ve done so each day since we returned to Coruscant, since our mission and the war have each concluded. And each time I’ve tossed it.
I sit here with my purpose fulfilled, with my duty done, and my pistols cleaner today than they were the day they were issued to me. I’ve hit every target, every droid, and every Seppie that’s been asked of me. I’ve fulfilled my role as a soldier in the Grand Army of the Republic and helped bring peace and glory to the galaxy. And I always imagined that, when that moment came, that I’d be satisfied — that I’d be content… relieved that the job was over. I didn’t think I’d still feel the itch in my fingers to do something other than pull a trigger for a cause I believe in. I didn’t think I’d feel the need to complete something so separate from my duties as a Captain or as a Commander. Now that sole purpose has been fulfilled, my body pushes me still.
In a galaxy that no longer needs me to defend it or fight for it, every atom in my body wants me to fight for something. My purpose, it appears, changed even before I realized it. I’ve been presented with a freedom I only want to use to do one thing. My heart desires only this and it’s not mine to have, to ask for, or to want. It became clear to me upon your return, that I could even be capable of loving someone who wasn’t my kin. I didn’t know that a different type of love could be possible for me — a love like the kind I’ve grown to feel for you. Seeing you again for the first time…”
The letter ended there. Rex still had yet to finish it.
Ahsoka felt his eyes on her and didn’t look up for a few seconds, her eyes still glued to the flimsi in her hands.
She finally tore her gaze away from his neat handwriting and up to where his intense amber eyes were focused on her. He’d abandoned her datapad for now and was resting his forearms on his knees, hands clasped, facing her.
Her heart was in her throat again.
“Ahsoka,” he began, his voice raw and trembling, “Seeing you again… changed me as a man. You’re in my very veins and I can’t scrub myself clean of you. You alone have given me the deeper understanding of who I am and I can no longer see life the way I used to. I can no longer see you as I used to…”
“Rex—” Ahsoka attempted to interject and provide him comfort, but he didn’t let her.
“Ahsoka, I am in love with you. I am wholly and definitively in love with you. I’ve tried to reverse it, to oppose it, but it’s no longer in the realm of my control. I desire you. I crave you. My heart yearns only for you. I have always known and cherished your heart and soul… but then you returned and you’re so fekking… breathtakingly beautiful.” His leg began to bounce, characterizing his inner nervousness. He rubbed his hands together.
She could feel the rampant state of his thoughts, how every fiber of his being was telling him to not utter what he’d just confessed to her. But he fought it; said it anyway, just as he’d fought the Order 66 directive and prevented a Sith Lord from claiming his mind and that of his brothers. His pulse was deafening and his adrenaline high. His eyes searched her and she steadied her breathing.
“That was my last report,” she spoke softly, her voice small.
Rex sat across from her confused and no closer to feeling relieved that he’d spoken the words his mind had so desperately urged him not to.
“What?” he asked simply, shaking his head.
Ahsoka cleared her throat and tried again. Unlike with her report, she now had the right words, they’d just happened to come out wrong on the first attempt. “Rex, I'm not going to be accepting Anakin’s offer. He can hide his relationship with Padmè all he likes, but that’s not what I’m going to be doing.”
He sat stunned, his eyes fixed on her as she spoke words that caused his chest to tighten.
She continued, her words in a breathy whisper as she moved to the edge of the bed, moving close enough for their knees to touch, “Some things do change.”
“Just some things,” he agreed, “But not your complete disregard for any punctuality.” His voice wavered as he attempted to alleviate their shared anxiety.
Ahsoka scoffed into a laugh and inched closer, “Oh? Well how about you always being a stickler for deadlines?”
Rex moved closer as well, the half-smirk that put knots in her stomach painting his face. He finally felt the relief of his confession. His voice was low, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, moving her hands to slip into both of his. He squeezed them and swiped his thumbs over her skin in small, shaky circles.
The room was still and he was too aware of the way that this was the moment he’d wished for since her return.
Rex swallowed and mustered more emotional bravery, “You’re the most rightful thing I have ever felt,” he whispered. He had Ahsoka’s full attention. “I wasn’t made solely to serve as a soldier. That was my assignment, yes, but if you coming back has taught me anything, it’s that I was made to love you, Ahsoka. Give me permission to love you.” He squeezed her hands again as his voice cracked.
Ahsoka bit her cheek, absorbing his words. He said everything she’s felt over the last few rotations. Rex had just told her that the feelings she’d been battling — the very feelings that prevented her from finishing her report — were requited.
“I gave you permission as soon as we were assigned the mission,” she whispered back, referring to all of her deliberate pining after him. She’d flirted not only with him, but with the idea of being something more than just his friend.
Ahsoka slowly lifted herself off the bed and closed the distance between them, providing him with ample opportunity to stop her. Her hands were removed from his and she brought them to cradle his face. She stood between his parted legs, keeping her eyes locked on his the entire time. Rex’s chest rose and fell quickly, his throat bobbing as she smiled at him and dipped her head down, bringing his soft lips into her own. He let out a barely audible whimper at the contact, taken aback by her tender affection, and sighed into her kiss.
They fell into a rhythm as each one learned from the other. Ahsoka deepened the kiss, causing Rex’s hands to dart out and hold onto something. He grabbed the backs of her thighs by pure accident, but used the action to bring her impossibly closer. Ahsoka made a noise of surprise and her hands flew to the top of the desk to steady herself, knocking her disassembled datapad onto the floor and shattering the screen.
Rex glanced down and attempted to make a reach for it when Ahsoka stilled him, “It can wait.” He felt her swollen lips turn up into a smile as she laughed and he did the same, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush with his chest and matching her passion.