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Eli knows the exact moment he fell in love with Grand Admiral Thrawn.
It’s not conjecture, it’s not an estimate, he can pinpoint it down to the millisecond. It hadn’t been when they met, when he became Thrawn’s aide, or even a few years after that. It had been nearly a decade in the making, and it still felt like it all had happened much too fast.
A group of commanding officers had gotten VIP seats at the Coruscanti Theatre, where they were putting on a production of Waiting in the Stars, some opera from over a thousand years ago that he’d never heard of. Normally, Thrawn wouldn’t have been invited due to jealousy (and some xenophobia for good measure), but Governor Pryce was attending, and personally extended an invitation towards him. Eli had secretly been a bit relieved not to be included, knowing the officers would either pretend he didn’t exist or snicker every time he spoke. A quiet night in for once might be nice.
But of course, because it was Thrawn, the admiral insisted that a seat be reserved for Eli or else he would have to cancel.
Pryce must have been very eager to get into his good graces, because she agreed and got him a seat with her own money. And that’s how Eli found himself dressed in the stuffiest suit he owned, seated beside Thrawn in the biggest theater he’d ever seen.
Eli leaned closer and whispered in his ear as the lights went down. “Do you know anything about this opera? I’ve never even heard of it.”
“Nor have I,” Thrawn admitted, engrossed in his playbill. “It says in the description that the story is a relic of the Nabooian golden age, and has since been reproduced hundreds of times across the galaxy. I’m curious to find out the cause of its cultural significance.”
He just hummed, settling into his seat as the curtains opened. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
…………………………
It was awful.
Eli had never seen an opera before, so he had no frame of reference, but he was sure no production should ever be this dull. He thought for a second that the actors may as well have been droids for how much emotion they displayed, but then realized that was unfair to droids everywhere. More than once, he found his eyes closing of their own accord.
You can stick this out. Thrawn went through all the trouble to get you here, the least you can do is pretend to be interested.
He turned to look at Thrawn, hoping to sneak a peek of his classic artwork face, with lips pursed and eyes mesmerized-
Wait.
Thrawn was staring at the stage intently, but with a lack of any kind of wonder or interest. In fact, his whole face was scrunched up like he just drank a whole keg of jawa juice. His brow was furrowed hard enough to leave lines, and his nails were constantly on the edge of being bitten clean off. He looked anything but enthused.
Eli tried his very best not to howl with laughter, but something must have slipped out, because then Thrawn was looking at him, his face still tight with displeasure. Eli froze, but Thrawn did nothing but raise an eyebrow.
He bit his lip. Hopefully he won’t be offended. Eli did what he hoped was a very convincing impression of Thrawn’s expression, then jerked his head towards the opera.
The furrows and lines melted away into amusement, and then into something that can only be described as toddler stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. There was a moment of hesitation, and then Thrawn started mouthing out the dialogue, all with overdramatic gestures and faces.
Eli wondered if there was an electric shock planted under his seat. Molten lava had been injected into his veins, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to grab Thrawn by the collar and snatch those stupid words right out of his lips.
He still had some self-restraint, though. He might have just had a world-shattering epiphany less than a second ago, but he knew better than to kiss his commanding officer right next to all of his higher-ups. He played along, relishing every smile and snort Thrawn released. By the time the opera was over, neither of them had any idea what happened in the story, and they truly could not care less.
“Well, that was a waste of an evening,” Thrawn deadpanned as they left the theater.
“I hope poor Governor Pryce gets her money back, those tickets weren’t cheap.”
Suddenly Thrawn froze. He turned to Eli with a startled look in his eyes. “Governor Pryce mentioned in her invitation that she would like to discuss Lothal military funds with me after the performance. I forgot all about it.”
A beat.
Eli couldn’t hold it in anymore. He cackled with laughter, and pretty soon Thrawn was laughing too, albeit with much more dignity. As the admiral threw his head back, head tilted towards the stars, Eli’s heart pounded.
Oh, you’re so fucked. So irrevocably, impossibly fucked.
“Maybe she’ll get another chance soon. I hear the Coruscanti Theatre Company is going to be putting on another production in a few weeks.”
“If it’s another Nabooian epic-”
“What are you, psychic?”
Thrawn chuckled, smiling softly. “She would have to hold a blaster to my head to convince me to attend another one of these travesties.”
Eli looked anywhere but those crimson eyes. “I don’t know. I might do it again.”
A pause. “You’re not serious?”
He shrugged his shoulders and grinned up at him. “So long as you’re there to keep me company, I think it could be fun.”
Thrawn stopped dead in his tracks for a fraction of a second, before continuing his path like nothing happened. “Hm.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“Hm.”
“Oh, could you just be straightforward for once? We can’t all be super geniuses, you know.”
“It’s a maybe, Lieutenant Vanto. Only if Governor Pryce can be coerced to procure a ticket for you as well. Otherwise I’d rather be eaten by a sarlacc.”
Eli laughed, his whole body warm and fuzzy. If fondness could kill.