At the touch of someone's hand at her elbow, she gets a flashback of a brush of something at her hip, the feel of a slimy Caldanian's wrist in her hand as she grabbed it and bent it away with excruciating force, even for a 17-year-old. She remembers the gurgling howl of pain, the interrupting, crackling voice of a Gigoran whose translator was badly damaged and barely comprehensible.
When she goes to do the same now, she's met with a flash of dark eyes and dark hair, and she thinks for a moment that it might be Cassian - but as instantaneous as the thought is, it's disproven. It isn't him, but rather a man she doesn't immediately recognize. The jade of her eyes burns up at him with suspicion and fury before she pieces it together and realizes he'd been the one giving the panel on De Chima. Jon Snow had been his name. And that's the only reason she willingly goes weaves through the crowd with him to a quieter, emptier section of the room.
She's quick to shrug away his hand from her elbow, though, once in the clear. She rolls her shoulders as though coming back into her own skin and flicks her eyes from his face to the crowd and back again.
"I'm fine," she insists, though there's a slight underlying betrayal in her tone, if he's astute enough to catch it. She clears her throat. "You gave that panel, didn't you? The one about De Chima?"
awwwwww jon snow so nice so sweet thank
When she goes to do the same now, she's met with a flash of dark eyes and dark hair, and she thinks for a moment that it might be Cassian - but as instantaneous as the thought is, it's disproven. It isn't him, but rather a man she doesn't immediately recognize. The jade of her eyes burns up at him with suspicion and fury before she pieces it together and realizes he'd been the one giving the panel on De Chima. Jon Snow had been his name. And that's the only reason she willingly goes weaves through the crowd with him to a quieter, emptier section of the room.
She's quick to shrug away his hand from her elbow, though, once in the clear. She rolls her shoulders as though coming back into her own skin and flicks her eyes from his face to the crowd and back again.
"I'm fine," she insists, though there's a slight underlying betrayal in her tone, if he's astute enough to catch it. She clears her throat. "You gave that panel, didn't you? The one about De Chima?"