AN: I love the fall. It makes me want to write. xox
The vice-grip on her upper arm hadn't lessened as he tugged her up the ramp - the gaping mouth hiss-snapping shut behind them - and now, standing just inside the vessel, heartbeat pounding under his fingers, they stood at odds.
Her mind clouded over; briefly and in a flash of remembrance.
It had been years ago, when she had first wanted to bite him. They had stood very similar to the way they were right now; toe to toe and heaving with angry effort. It had been back on Home One, down a quiet hallway which he had frog-marched her down like a misbehaving child, after returning from a blundered base-camp move from a moon cluster on the outer rim near Zulta.
Her mind now skipping through a lifetime's worth of memories and poor judgement to recall the absurd hunger to hurt him, lash out, remove the blunted pointer finger which had been aimed centimeters from her face. She had listened - or more accurately half listened - while he ranted and raved against her. His own reddening face bubbled with irritation and a grave desire to be listened to and obeyed.
Her young, idealistic blood had boiled over at the thought.
She would rather die, a small petty voice from the dark corner of her brain whispered venomously, than obey that arrogant, opinionated, half-wit still shouting at her, looming over her small figure, hot breath on her face distracting and foreign. How dare he talk to her like this? Dress her own as if he had a right to have the opinions he was hurling at her. And with that last angry thought, she had done it. Struck out and clamped down - hard - on the still outstretched accusatory digit in front of her nose.
The attack had in actuality taken them both by surprise. Her jaw sprang open almost as quickly as it had closed and two pairs of shocked eyes met for a very short moment before she turned and fled, running from the taste of him, retreating from the stock still figure rendered entirely speechless in the middle of the deserted hallway.
She had thought him angry at her that day, so many years ago. Angry for not listening, not following orders, not doing what he wanted her to do. She had been wrong. He had been - and still was, her heart sobbed quietly in her crushing chest - afraid for her. He hadn't been able to reconcile the thought of losing her.
But above all of that, he had been jealous.
Not of anyone in particular. But jealous all the same. Jealous as she had secretly been. Jealous of what they weren't. What she wanted to be and what she saw in others. Women had always been quite determined to climb all over him, though much less literally now. Leia had dealt with her share of gossip in relation to Han, but it hadn't stopped there. For every story-rumour which had circulated about her and the handsome smuggler, there were three more going around about that same smuggler and some other woman.
She had played it off, she didn't care.
Expect she had. And so did he. And here they were.
She knew the taste of him now, better than she knew her own being.
But even that hadn't been able to save her.
Her skin sang with tension. Hypersensitive. Nerves twisted and raw. Ears rang with the now distant blaring of docking bay alarms.
She needed him, even now, angry as he was; glaring at her with a raw passion which made her want to sink to the floor and beg him to heal her.
She needed him to fix her.
Selfish. That's what this was. On both sides. Hers and his. Was it worth it? Could she stay now, him angry as he was? Hurt beyond anything she would ever have wanted.
Whispers hissed, tangled and evil, in her mind.
Traitor.
Her father's voice. Bail's voice.
Rapid fluttering inside her chest matched the frantic splintering of her soul.
Chewie howled sharply from somewhere behind her, bringing her back to herself and what she had nearly almost done.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, eyes still closed.
Betrayal sat thick around them as he finally let go of her small frame. Saying nothing, brushing passed her to the cockpit for a quick re-calculation. The broken, half open pack hung heavily at her side until slowly dropping unnoticed to the grating. She wanted very much, all of a sudden, to hide. To crawl into a small dark place and sleep. Hide. Weather the storm away from the people she loved.
Traitor.
Lea choked back a sob. Enough tears; angry now at herself. She was ruining everything. Again. Like a scared shitless kid, running headlong into battle because she thought it made her brave. Had she really not grown up passed that? Was she really still that person? Did she actually truly want to re-live that life all over again? Leia already knew the answer. It was the same one to the question she has asked Han that evening on Kashyyyk in the rain; sitting high in the canopy, worries eating her alive bit by bit. Running wouldn't help her anymore. She couldn't outrun this. But, her stubborn half kicked in, not being able to out-run something didn't mean she needed to haul other along with her, did it?
"I will only ask you once, Leia." started by his voice - clear and commanding in the echoing lounge - she gasped and spun to face him. Skin ashen, hands grasping pathetically at her sides. "And I need you to be honest with me." Han continued, voice slightly softer now, eyes glancing to her fingers momentarily - as it needing to reach for her. But he was stronger than that and this couldn't wait any longer.
Silence broke like crackling fire between them as she slowly nodded. Fine then. Enough of this.
"Do you," he paused, breathing deeply as his eyes moved back to search her face. "Do you love me."
The words hurt him, she could tell. His throat moved and the small tell of a twitch pulled at her lower jaw.
"Of course I do." She whispered, harsher than she would have liked, tears threatening again against the enormous effort to hold herself together. Her throat closing against the rasping jaws of heartbreak. She could hear it, flickering in her soul. She was dying. This was killing her as surely as it was him.
He nodded. Unmoving. Silence stretched again between them as he weighed her words. Instincts from living a life a little too far from the centre were kicking back in for him, she could almost watch the mask which had protected him for so long against people like her struggle to fall back into place. Before it could come down completely, he nodded again, slowly, taking two long steps and stopping within inches of her. She though he might kiss her then like she desperately wanted him to. But instead, a steady hand traced the outline of her cheek, so lightly he barely touched her, pausing only to move an errant strand back behind her ear.
"I have loved you since that night it rained on Yavin4." Her breath caught and her hand gripped tight around her waist, holding herself together.
He had never told her that before. She had never known.
He pulled away from her abruptly, as if having suddenly making up his mind; turning away from her outstretched fingers and the sound of retreating footfall down the corridor was the sound of the end of the world.
END PART ONE