Cal always had struggles with sleeping. Sometimes he’d talk in his sleep, or even kick himself awake. He hated it. If some Jedi mind trick could make him stop, he’d use it so fast.

He had alternatives, admittedly. Sitting up late talking to BD-1 was one option, or maybe prepare himself a turbo dog (even though that was all he could make for himself, despite all the spices Greez owned).

Sometimes he’d even sit on one of the couches in the Mantis, bouncing his leg up and down, head buried in his hands, fingers raking through those fiery red locks of his.

Groaning, he pulled himself onto his feet, rubbing at the inner corner of his left eye, burying his knuckle into it. His bare feet padded against the cold floors. After a few little steps, he opened the door to one of the bedrooms.

Typically, it would be his. But, the idea of one of the spare ones seemed like a good one instead. He knew that he, Greez, Cere and Merrin had all gone their separate ways, leaving the Mantis to Cal.

He’d picked up a few strays along the way — you being one of them. Unlike the Jedi teachings, Cal always found himself making friends too easily. He never liked the rules anyway.

So, after grabbing onto a railing above your bed, he hoisted himself down beside you, his head flopping onto your pillow, his eyes wide as he made sure he didn’t wake you up.

You faced him in your sleep. Eyes squeezed shut, your arm beneath the cushion you slept against. The room was cold enough for Cal’s warmth to not be uncomfortable.