Work Text:
Mak’ro sat at his desk reviewing battle plans, a half-eaten sandwich on a plate perched precariously close to the edge, just waiting to be knocked to the floor. He paid it no mind; it was just another object cluttering the surface of his desk, preventing him from finding the schematic that he needed. He grumbled to himself as he shuffled things around, peering under paperwork - who used actual paper anymore, honestly - and broken questis, half-drank cups of caf, random styluses, holoprojectors - was that the one..? He thumbed it on. No, it wasn’t, but the image made him smile to see it anyway.
He and Thalias, standing together in the lounge, drinks in hand. She was laughing at something he had said; he was looking at her with nothing short of adoration. He should have been embarrassed to have his emotions so open for everyone to see, but he was surprised to find he wasn’t. Thrawn and Eli were wearing off on him.
He thumbed the projector off as his door chimed, stern expression slipping into place automatically; it vanished when Thalias came into the room, grinning, her eyes bright with excitement. Mak’ro gave her a curious look as she came around the desk and leaned down to kiss his cheek, moving the sandwich plate to a side table before it could topple over. She reached for his hand and held it in both of hers, expression turned serious.
He looked at her, quizzically.
She spoke, just two words, watching his reaction carefully.
His eyes went wide and he slowly stood, cautiously repeating her statement.
She nodded confirmation.
His face lit up, and he took her in his arms and spun her around, and they both grinned and laughed, eyes bright; he said three words, and she repeated them. He set her feet down on the floor and they leaned in to each other, foreheads pressed together. He repeated the three words quietly and drew her in for a lingering kiss.
Mak’ro’s work, unimportant now, was forgotten.