All he remembered was a blur. Nothing before that was sharp in his memory; just one mashed-up blob, the faces like indistinct dots in his vision and the voices cutting into each other so much nothing was coherent.
For a moment, he wasn't sure what to think. Was he dead? Was he blind? Was he currently wearing a blindfold or locked in some dark room? He tried moving his arms, but they felt like lead bricks by his sides. As he still continued on trying to move any part of his body, he worked on opening his eyes, but they felt they had been sewn shut. Almost as heavy as his arms, if not even more so. But as persistent as he was, he kept working, and finally his eyes cracked open slowly. Two big, soft brown eyes came into focus. Instantly the desperation and sadness in the eyes switched into something of joy and relief.
"You're awake." The voice slid through his head, like some echo that was thrown away and didn't have anybody to belong to. His head pounded as the voice rang. He flinched, trying to throw his arm up to cradle his head, but he forgot how hard it was to move it.
"Relax." This time, the echo started to become clearer and softer and actually sound like a voice.
He tried to rumble something out of his throat, but it came out as a strange, pitchy moan. He hadn't realized how dry his mouth was or how much his throat burned. He battled his eyelids and tried to keep them open, but so far he was losing. Something started pushing back on his chest. "Shhh," he heard. "Just lay down."
Ignoring the request, he tried to push himself back up. He felt the hands pushing back down on him, but it was then when he snapped his eyes open to see her face. A small smile came to his lips, and he felt all the weight leave his body.
"Leia," he whispered hoarsely. She smiled sadly at him and pushed on him again. Refusing again, he said, "What happened?"
"You saved ten men."
Han grimaced at the thought of all the tabloids, but the pounding in his head made the grimace even bitterer. He felt a cool washcloth being pressed lightly against his head. "The details are hazy," Leia continued, "noting the fact nobody was there besides three other people."
"I don't want to know specifics," he groaned. "I just want to get rid of this damn headache."
She pursed her lips; her expression then softened almost as fast as it came on, as if she had reminded herself that he did have a right to complain and be short with her. "I'm doing the best I can," she said, dipping another wash cloth into the water on the table next to her.
"Well, sweetheart, it's not helping much."
"Be patient, will you?" She sighed. "Han, let's not do this."
An indistinct noise came from his throat.
She observed him, his body sprawled out and his neck bending back over a pillow. His hair was messy, but she had a desire to run them through it. She felt a strong urge of attraction, and bent over and gently kissed his forehead.
Han paused for a moment; then, sitting back up, he murmured, "You sure like doing that, don't you?"
"Doing what?"
His infamous lopsided smirk appeared on his face. "Kissing my forehead." Casually, he followed the remark up with, "If you had any guts, you would be kissing elsewhere."
"Is that a challenge?"
Smirk growing wider, he lay back down without a word.
"Han Solo, you answer me now." She felt silly getting so frantic over it; after all, it was Han Solo.
He shook his head, closed his eyes and grimaced, and then smirked again.
"Han!"
He opened his eyes again and lifted his head back up. "What?" he asked innocently.
Leia sighed, exasperated. "You're so frustrating!"
She heard a soft chuckle come from him. Ignoring him, she started dabbing his face again with the wash cloth.
Han closed his eyes and leaned back, letting her trying to relieve him in silence. "This is just like leaving Jabba's palace, isn't it?"
"Well, not exactly the same, but there are the comparisons."
"Mm." They sat in silence once more. Slowly, he started dozing off, the cool cloth against his face coming more and more distant. Suddenly, he felt something warm being pressed against his forehead, and it jerked him back to reality. He was going to open his eyes, but he decided to wait and see what would happen.
The warm object lifted off his forehead and then was placed on his temple, slowly coming up with a small, high-pitched popping noise that lips made. His heart swelled as he felt Leia moving her lips down to the area his cheek bone was at, then down to his jaw bone, stopping on his chin.
Each kiss was light, but long, as if they were just a shy cover-up for some deeper passion. It was like she was afraid to show how she really felt, and this was the best way to tell.
She lifted up on more time, and he imagined her hovering over him: unsure of what to do, uncertain if she should do what she wanted to, and hesitating during the perfect moment to do so.
He felt her lift up from him, and he felt weighted again, only this time with disappointment.
"I don't know if you can even hear me," he heard her whisper in his ear, "but Han Solo, I am so in love with you I don't know what I'll do."
Suddenly he felt very giddy like a little boy who had just received a great toy. He felt stupid; he's Han Solo, not some easily-excited school child on a sugar rush. But there was something about the sudden surprise of the whisper in his ear, something about what she said, something about her that made him feel as if he were lighter than air.
He heard her light footsteps walk away from him. Tilting his head, he opened his eyes slightly to see her back to him, doing something he couldn't see. He wanted to say something back, but something was holding his tongue. He guessed it was the idiotic anticipation that something else would happen.
She started to turn around. Quickly jerking his head back, he closed his eyes and tried his best not to scream in pain at the sudden stabbing sensation inside his head. Leia started dabbing his face again. "I don't know why I'm still doing this," she started, sounding absent-minded. "I don't even know if it's making you feel better—"
You make me feel better, he thought before punishing himself for sounding like a mushy cliché from romances.
"—but I can't really leave you." She sighed. "I don't even know why I'm talking out loud. It's not like you can hear me, and it's not like I would actually tell anybody what I feel anyway. But honestly, I wish I could tell you everything. I really wish I could. I want to trust you Han; no, actually, I do trust you. It's just my insecurity, I guess, to tell you how much you mean to me." He felt her fingers run through his hair on his forehead. "But I guess I'll tell you now until I get the courage to really tell you: Han, I love you so much. I can't live without you."
She became quiet. The only thing she was still doing was gently playing with his hair. He guessed it was some type of relaxing thing she did, considering she did that very often.
Suddenly he felt her lean down. Her face was close enough to his that he could hear her breathing, jagged as if she was full of nervous and anxious feelings. Then he felt her lips on his, giving him a sweet, gentle kiss similar to the ones she had given him around his face earlier. The kiss seemed to last hours, and he was suddenly reminded of a similar scene in his ship, surrounded by wires and the smell of tools.
Deciding he couldn't help himself, he kissed back. It wasn't obvious; in fact, he wasn't sure if she could tell at all, but in his mind, he was kissing back with force.
Then it was over. She lifted her head up, her breathing this time calmer but still had a quick step of excitement locked within. She leaned up and started walking away again, taking the wash cloth off his hip that he hadn't realized was there. Slowly, he turned his neck and opened his eyes. "I love you, Princess."
Leia spun around, her face frozen with fear. "What?"
"I said I love you. What's wrong with that, sweetheart?"
Some of the fear ebbed away, but it was still easy to find. "How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to hear you talk," he replied after deciding he wasn't going to play any games and be honest instead.
"How much did you hear?" Leia looked as if she were going to have a heart attack.
"All of it." He sat up in a rather painful-looking way, and continued, "What's so terrifying? We've been together for a while now."
She didn't respond.
"You can tell me anything, Princess. Anything at all." He waved a hand at her to tell her to come closer. "I'm glad you said it, actually. Now I know what you feel and I'll know that what I think won't be put to waste."
"What do you think?" she whispered, relief gradually starting to fill her eyes.
"I think you are the most beautiful and wonderful girl in the galaxy. And I mean it." He took her hand and kissed it.
Kneeling beside him, she said, "Is that all you think?"
"Sweetheart, if I could tell you all I think about you, we would be here for days." She smiled before he continued with, "Painfully cheesy, I know, but it's true. It's absolutely true."
"Maybe one day we'll have the time to hear."
He gave her a sad smile. "Like when we're just an old pair of lovers?"
Her smile widened. "Like when we're just an old pair of lovers."
Leaning forward, he gave her a peck on the lips before replying with, "I want us to make it that far."
Leia stood up abruptly and to the doorway. "Goodnight, Han."
His smile transformed into mock hurt. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Princess! Where ya' going?"
"You need to rest."
"So we're having this deep conversation, and you just decide to get up and leave? Don't women usually like to stay around?"
"Hey, you've been around them enough to know."
"I am hurt, your Highness. Severely hurt.
She grinned and shook her head.
"Now it's just like Jabba's palace."
"Go to sleep, nerf."
"No."
"Are you disobeying my orders?"
"I was born a rebel."
Her face seemed to light up even more. "Yes you were."
"Oh, no argument? I see where I rank now. Gods, you think you know a girl and then she just decides that you're not good enough to fight with."
Leia's smile turned into a thin-lipped smirk. "I love you."
Han flashed his own smirk at her. "Right back at ya' sweetheart."