Last chapter :) Hope you all have enjoyed the story. R and R, let me know what you think :)
She traced his scars, burning paths over them with her lips. He moaned softly at her touch, letting loose the pain and torture he had been put through under that woman. "Siri?" He said, and she felt his fingers trail gently along her cheek. She looked up at him, careful to keep her weight on either side of him, not wanting to interfere with his still healing body.
"Hmm?" She said, leaning down to kiss his cheek, then his temple before pressing her forehead to his gently. The hand that had been on her face moved to trail through her hair. "Is something wrong?" She pulled back to look down at him, running her knuckles gently along his chest.
"Of course not." He said, shaking his head, looking almost worried that he had offended her. "I just…I'm trying to understand something." He admitted, his hands moving to his hips, where his thumbs drew slow circles under the hem of her tunic.
"Live here; now; in the moment. With me, Obi-Wan. Not in that place." She said softly, making patterns on his skin, pressing her hips slightly down into his waist, listening to his sharp exhale at the gesture.
"I am, Siri." He lifts a hand to trace his fingertips lightly over the side of her face. "This is a decision we have made together." She leans down to kiss him again, and through their connection, always intact but so recently renewed, she understands his distraction. He is thinking of that single memory, that shared memory of what their doing now. Only that memory is a lie, and he knows it.
It doesn't keep him from kissing her however, and pulling her closer to his bare chest. In a swift motion, he flips them on the bed, now hovering over her, her legs still wrapped around his waist. He breaks it, moving his head to her neck instead, drawing up soft spots with his lips.
"I know you know what I'm referring to." He trails another set of soft kisses. "I want you to know something." He said, and pulled back to look into her eyes.
She lifted her hand and brushed away what might have been the start of a tear from the corner of his eyes. So similar to what had been in that memory, in that thought, he leans into her hand, into her touch. He takes her wrist in his hand and simply holds it there for a moment.
"Siri, I-" But she presses a finger to his lips.
"I understand, Obi-Wan." She doesn't think she take hearing what he's going to say. He thinks that she saved him. He is going to give her credit for saving him from that place, from that woman, but all that will do is twist tighter at the knot of guilt in her stomach. At his confused gaze, she adds, "I know."
He says nothing for a moment, but releases her hand. All she wants is to kiss him again, curl all of this into what they are so close too, but first, more words are needed. "Obi-Wan." He looks down at her, smiling softly. "That memory isn't real." She says slowly, sucking in a breath at his stricken expression that flits away from his face as he tries to ignore it. She reaches up and takes his face in her hands, pulling him down to where her lips almost brush against his as she whispers. "Let's make a real one." And pulls him into another kiss.
The rest of the night is spent with him, her hands running over everyone of the scars he's accumulated. Whip lashes, burns, knife cuts. She traces them with her hands, her lips; trying to erase every memory he has of that place, every memory she has of him in pain and alone. All she can feel is all of him, their force signatures intertwined as closely as they were.
It's later that night when he says "I love you." And she returns it, wrapping his arm around her waist as they drift off to sleep. That night, for the first time since he's been back and she's seen him in the medical ward, broken and bleeding but still whole; she doesn't dream of that woman. Of that place. Of his blood running over walls, his skin darkening into bruises under her touch, the hollow feeling of losing him again. Instead, she dreams of him; of making love, and this time, the connection is true. The memory is tangible. His touch, his body, his heart, are real.