Когда автор ценит Зеба, это очень, очень хороший автор!
"Welcome back kid. We’ve been waiting on you. Y' hungry?"
A gruff male voice on one side of his bed makes him startle so badly he nearly hits his head on the overhead light. Ezra turns fuzzily and finds one Garazeb Orrelios sitting beside him in a chair, peeling several yogun out of their thick skins carefully. His face lacks any of its previous irritation. There is no anger, no sarcasm, no lingering malice. There is just, Force Damn him to hell, a gentle knowing kind of sympathy.
"Kill me." Ezra mutters under his breath. "Like seriously. Just kill me."
Because, yes, Zeb is occasionally hot-tempered, and Ezra knows better than anyone else in the galaxy where his buttons are located at, but he also knows that there is literally no bottom to Zeb's potential pool of empathy when the older Male is faced by real suffering, and if his former roommate has discovered from Sabine and Hera that that 'annoying bratty kid' who’s been yanking his fur repeatedly is actually just a former Jedi Padawan who had recently lost his own entire family, well then Garazeb Orellios, who already feels guilty about what happened on the Star Destroyer, is going to make "becoming Ezra's close friend and confidant" his personal duty. Forever.
So kill Ezra right now. Just kill him. Seriously.