Author's Note: I strongly recommend listening to Limp Bizkit's Eat You Alive while reading this. The pacing of song and story may be off in some places, but it'll help the mood along nicely.

The golden light seemed to filter down softly from above, but it was a harsh, hot glare for those caught underneath it. The man dressed in a black uniform felt the sweat trickle underneath his clothing, but he knew it was nothing compared to what the woman currently strapped to the rack in front of him was feeling. Atton leaned in over the Jedi, leering at her sweat covered face. Her eyes were wide and panicked looking, but they didn't detract at all from their beauty in Atton's mind. He continued closer, the monster's grin plastered across his face, until he was sure she could feel his breath across her skin. He didn't know where she came from, how good of a Jedi she had been, he barely even knew her name. He opened his mouth to comment on her appearance, to tell her that her magnetic gaze continued to draw him in, when she shuddered, turning her face and closing those eyes. Frowning beneath the half-mask he always wore while 'working' and 'relaxing', Atton reached over to her face, placing a gloved hand on her jaw.

"Ah, I'm not that bad looking am I?

He gently used a single finger to have her face him, hoping she would crumble like a pazaak card house. To be honest, it wasn't like she could really talk, what with the piece of bantha-hide wrapped around her head. With it jammed into her mouth, she couldn't really talk and the taste was likely terrible, but she could still communicate. But she refused, her neck still tense, those eye's still closed. Sneering in disgust, he dropped the soft approach and grabbed her jaw with his hand, wrenching her to face him; her eye's snapping open at his painful jerk. His next words where breathed out onto her face in an odd contrast from the anger written on his.

"Am I?"

She started crying at this, the fresh tears mingling with shining droplets of sweat. As she closed her eye's and wept, Atton straightened with a sigh, dropping his facade of anger and affecting one of tested patience. Turning away, he started speaking as he walked towards the tray holding the tools and implements of his trade.

"I really don't want to do this, but since you won't give me an answer, I will have to get one from you."

And as he heard her begin the sweet, sweet sound of her sobbing cry, Atton smiled. It was a cruel smile, an evil smile, a demon's smile; it was his smile. And it was still on his face as he grabbed the entire tray and wheeled around.

"Let's try those Verpine medications again; I enjoyed using them last time. Maybe we could mix things up, try greater doses, get a bigger high off it."

His devil's grin couldn't get larger, as Atton heard the sweetest sound get just a big louder.

"Oh, I'm glad you like the idea, also."

They looked nothing alike. She had soft brown doe eye's, she has ordinary brown ones. She had simple short brown hair, she has midnight blue black hair done up in braids with a trio of metal hexagonal clasps, intricately detailed. She had paler skin, and wasn't much to look at aside from those eyes, she has darker skin and had all the right curve's. But one reminded him of the other, the present reminding him of the past. Currently she was sleeping, the soft blue light common on the Ebon Hawk's crew quarters accenting the different colors in her hair. Atton merely stood there, watching her breath peacefully, content with the world. He knew no-one would be back here, and they all thought he was still up front, piloting the ship. He traced a hand along her the side of her face, slipping down her chest, before resting on the inner contour of her thigh. She had stirred slightly at his touch, until her eye's snapped open as Atton leaned closer –

- and watched with delight as she started shuddering at his touch, his closeness to her. Her clothing had become tattered rags at this point, due to his 'special' treatment of her, and they barely covered her decency. His hand traced a path up her body, taking the choicer route, before stopping at her mouth. Placing a gloved finger on her lips, Atton stared into those eyes with a hunger.

"I know it seems bad… but trust me. You'll learn to like it."

He leaned in closer, the Jedi paralyzed of fright, as Atton drew closer to kiss her and -

he pulled away from her with a start, the Exile's eyes locked onto his own. She sat upright holding the bunk's covering around her with both hands, her expression one of almost intense disinterest considering what had almost happened. Atton had almost kissed her, and now he was casually checking her out. She straightened unconsciously, aware that she wore only the same dirt brown leotard when they had met on Peragus, and she gripped the bedding just a little harder. A roguish grin was faintly imprinted on his face, but his eyes were still unfocused, seemingly not focused on the present but the past.

"Atton, are you… alright?"

He snapped out of whatever he had been wrapped around, looked her up once and down with that smile that gave her chills down the spine, and laughed once.

"Sorry babe, you're just so hot it drives me insane and I just want to -

- look at her. Atton just sat there, watching her in the now soft light filtering from above. Dust falling from the ceiling danced in the air above her, but her beauty was all that he noticed. He just wanted for this moment to last, him looking at her sleeping form all day. The simplicity of her beauty hadn't been detracted by the scars he had given her; they just made it all the sweeter. While those eyes may have been closed, her face and body still had everything else to look at. After all she was wearing the gifts that he had given her. And nothing was wrong with it, not their relationship, the setting, or anything. Because she was his, and nothing was wrong with that. But something was horribly wrong; she had… seeped into him. Soaked him in her charm, placed something under his skin, and nothing could ever wash it away. He knew what was happening; he was getting too attached to her. The other Sith detested this, while they may have enjoyed using a captive for themselves, getting attached was out of the question. And nothing could stop his falling for her, barring one thing and it made him sorry on so many levels it hurt. So sorry -

" – I'm sorry, next time I'll be sure to invite Disciple along; are you going to sit down and put that bedding back? It's not my problem your beauty is so apparent to everyone; ah, aren't you going to put it back? Come on babe you're just so hot, no one's going to be sleeping back her for a while so we're alone… and you just drive me up against a wall saying no. And it drive's me -

- insane rage pulsed through him. The Sith wouldn't stop bothering him, he had given up everything for her, and now she had torn him open. She had made him see the Force, made him obsessed over her, made him run from the Sith out of fear. Her name was Jaquline and she had made him realize something horrible. He had killed her because he loved her.