Prompt: "So why are you still here?"
The glass landed on the table with a resounding clunk. The golden pink light of dusk poured in the window, making the ice and remaining drops of Corellian whisky sparkle in the ornately carved crystal. The light of sundown cut through the ominous darkness of the rest of the apartment, providing a welcome warmth that had been missing for months.
Senator Leia Organa-Solo padded from the kitchen to the expansive living room barefoot, still dressed in her Senate dress, her hair twisted into a braid that was much too tight. She settled down on edge of a couch, legs tucked underneath her. She pointedly ignored the empty shelves and walls that used to be covered with photos of a happy family. A family, she mused, that felt like strangers now. She turned her gaze to the wall of windows, the only ones with the curtains open in the whole apartment, and took in the sun setting over the skyline of Coruscant. Leia heard the tell-tale hiss of her front door opening, the clunk of dirty boots on her newly polished floors, and the heavy breathing of the intruder behind her.
"How long was it this time?" she asked, not even flinching as a hand grazed her shoulders.
The room was filled with a silence that made the Senator feel like she was choking.
"Six months," replied a gruff man's voice.
"Well, what brought you back this time," she accused, her voice taking on a sharp tone that she hated herself for using. "Run out of clean clothes? Or did you get tired of reporters asking why you weren't with your wife?"
"Your assistant called me. She was worried. I was wor…"
"Stop," Leia snapped, twisting around to face her husband. Well, by now he was more of a stranger than a husband. "You lost the chance to give a damn about me when you started taking smuggling jobs that lasted six-blasted-months. You lost it when you just up and left after our son, our son Han, turned into a Sith. Don't you dare say that you give a crap about me."
"It's not my fault that Ben turned, and you can't pin all the blame of me being gone on me. I did the best I possibly could to be here, to be here for you, but all you did was shut me out. It's hard to have a conversation when your wife locks herself in her damn office all day!"
"I had just lost everything!"
"You still had me!" Han all but yelled, walking until he was standing in front of her. "You still had me, but you wouldn't even fucking talk to me. I left because I couldn't stand this apartment anymore where I couldn't talk to you or touch you! This place feels like a prison!"
"So why are you still here?"
Leia had risen off the couch now, and they stood less than a foot apart. Both locked eyes, breathing heavily.
"Damnit Leia," Han mumbled, dragging a hand through his hair. "I can't leave. I love you. You're my wife, and I love you even though we scream at each other all day long. I didn't stop just because of what happened with Ben."
"How did we get here, Han?" Leia whispered, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "How the hell did we get to this point?"
Han didn't say anything but pulled her into his chest, sliding his fingers into her hair, loosening her braids.
"You have to help me figure this out," she murmured into his chest. "I can't, so you have to."
"We haven't been happy for a long time, Sweetheart. Even before Ben… He was just the tipping point."
"Do you think we can come back from this?"
"Do you?"
"No," Leia said after a hesitation, her voice breaking as she choked the word out.
Han stiffened and pulled away from her. "Most of my stuff is on the Falcon now. I'll come by tomorrow when you're at work and get the rest."
"I didn't want it to end like this, Han. Please know that."
"I know, Princess. I know."
She followed a few feet behind him as he walked towards the door. Han raised his hand to scan the door open but stopped at the last second. Before Leia could react, he swept her up in his arms, kissing her deeply. All the anger, pain, sadness, hopelessness, and resentment that had piled up over the course of the past few years was pushed into this kiss. They clutched at each other desperately, as if letting go meant death. As Leia thought about it later, letting go meant the death of them.
Once their lips were swollen, lungs burning, and the once beautiful braid was in disarray, Han pulled back. He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. He murmured something into her soft skin that Leia didn't quite catch.
"What?"
"I love you," Han said, sorrow etching deep lines into his face. "I wanted you to hear it one last time."
He was gone before Leia had a chance to respond.
"I know," she whispered to the closed door.
If you stood outside the door of the Organa-Solo residence that night and listened carefully enough, you could hear gut-wrenching sobs bouncing off the empty walls of the empty apartment. And, when General Han Solo entered the apartment the next day, his favorite shirt, one he had during the days of the Rebellion, was missing, and after tearing the apartment apart, he gave up on finding it. If he missed it sitting neatly folded on top of his wife's pajamas, well, that was just too bad.