I put my accounts accounts on hold while I was going through a move. I'm reposting the first few chapters and will be adding to it in the next few days.
Idipping my toe back into SW fan fiction with this labor of love story. I hope others enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. HanxLeia are my OTP no matter how much Disney has tried to destroy their epic relationship. Like many of you, I'm dreading the Han Solo movie because I fear it will do something stupid, like try to turn Emilia Clarke into Han's tragic love of his life. We all know he only fell in love once and that was with our irreplaceable princess. This story is already finished so I will post chapters quickly. I may even post more than one chapter per day if there's demand. If you enjoy the story, drop me a line so I know. The title will make sense as the story progresses. Thank you for reading. Han & Leia forever.
Han Solo stifled a yawn and rubbed his face in exhausted capitulation. The 34-year-old felt ancient. Repercussions from last night's shenanigans goaded him. Somehow his youth had tiptoed away when he wasn't looking. With a scornful snort, reality had handed him a hammering headache and sore joints.
After stretching his aching back, he grabbed two slate mugs from the creaky cupboard. Smothering another yawn, he poured steaming coffee into each cup. Ten years ago, he drank the stuff because it tasted good. Now he guzzled it down to accelerate his energy. His dependency on the drink irritated him.
"I hope one of those caffeine jolts is for me," a sultry female voice purred.
"You're the only other person here, unless you brought a friend who's hiding somewhere on my ship," he answered, picking up a mug and facing his guest.
"Sorry, it's just me," Marli replied with a brilliant smile.
He noticed that the fellow pilot had rummaged through his dresser drawers and borrowed his favorite work shirt. Although she looked fetching in it, the assertive way she delved into his belongings triggered indignation in him. He forced himself to swallow his irritation and focus on the situation's positive aspects. For instance, a beautiful woman stood before him wearing little clothing. Her alluring curves filled the billowy shirt in all the right places. She presented such a tantalizing picture that Han briefly considered ravishing her all over again with an encore performance of last night's romp. Realizing such an act could complicate the situation, he handed her a cup of coffee instead.
"Delicious," she murmured after sipping the caffeinated drink.
"Me or the coffee?" he asked, nearly choking on his corny quip. The stale joke triggered a brief moment of introspection that he quickly cast aside.
"Both," Marli answered. She eyed him admiringly before taking a seat at a small, rickety table in the tiny kitchen.
"Are you going to Wes Janson's life birthday party tomorrow night?" she asked, phrasing her question nonchalantly.
Tension seeped into his body. He knew the destination of her query, and he didn't want to take the ride.
"Haven't decided yet," he replied curtly, facing the cupboard again. "Does this coffee taste bitter to you? Sugar should fix it."
Ignoring his blatant effort to highjack her proposition, MarlI headed straight for disaster. Her desperate hope outweighed prudence.
"I thought we could go to the party together," she suggested.
When Han didn't immediately reply, she plunged forward again. Her vacillating tone belied her confident words.
"After all, we're both invited," she pointed out. "It makes sense to just go together." Her voice had weakened further by her last sentence. She looked at the floor in embarrassment, silently begging it to swallow her with one gigantic gulp.
Han kept his back to Marli while he rummaged through assorted condiments on the crowded shelf. He purposefully ignored the sugar container right in front of him.
"Don't know if I can make it," he finally called over his left shoulder. "I'll get back to you."
He finally snatched the container off the shelf and poured obscene amounts of sugar into his drink to stall for time. When the saccharine drink coated his mouth with overpowering crystals, he fought off a grimace.
"Yeah," Marli answered with a defeatist pitch. "Sure. Let me know."
The Corellian had monumental commitment issues. Everyone knew it. It was evident that he'd been spooked by her suggestion, maybe even horrified.
Marli's stomach lurched with the realization that she had behaved as naïvely as every other woman who had dated Han Solo in the past two years. Their fourth date had been insignificant to him. Now that she had come on too strong, a fifth date would be a long shot.
"Well, I should get going," she remarked. Instant relief sprung to his eyes before he could disguise it.
"See ya later," he answered, crossing his legs at his ankles and leaning against the counter in his trademark, lazy stance.
"I'll call you," he added.
They both knew he was lying, but neither one said a word.
He ignored Marli's forlorn look as she gathered her purse and coat that she had hastily deposited on a chair last night. Yeah, he felt guilty, but it was better for everyone if they ended it now before it became complicated.
For several moments after Marli had left, Han stood silently at the sink sipping his coffee in silence. Anyone who would have witnessed his behavior would have described it as peaceful and content. They would have been wrong.
Anger began rising rapidly inside Han until he could no longer ignore it. He cursed loudly. Then he snatched the mug from the table, where Marli had left it, and chucked it across the room in disgust.
"Dammit, Leia," he muttered.