Kyp/Tahiri, for a dare. Featuring Vong!Tahiri and Dying!Kyp
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It's been a few days since the last 'vong came by – not beatings, no torture, but no food or water either. The only reason I've survived is Tahiri, and I'm not so certain of her. She's not too stable – she talks to her father or Luke, or sometimes Anakin, and I'm always forced to listen.
"You're being silly, Kyp."
Speak of the 'vong and you see her scars.
"That's not a nice thought, Kyp."
He tone is reproachful, and I want to say something snappish back, but I can't.
"Don't bother speaking, Kyp. You'll just use your energy up faster. You can't afford it."
She presses my belly to make her point. It's rigid, probably from internal injuries, and it hasn't healed by itself. If it was just the bleeding…
"Don't kid yourself, Kyp. Would you have been able to heal yourself even if the internal bleeding was all of it?"
She's mocking me now, in one of her mood swings, and my eyes twitch. They're the only part of my face that can move. Kriffin' neurotoxin. The only reason I can breath at allis a constant use of the force – and the hollow reed a helpful Tahiri shoved into my throat.
"That hurt, didn't it? You screamed."
She's smiling that creepy little smile of hers, and it pisses me off. Why is she the way she is? Why couldn't I have been stuck with someone semi-sane?
"Oh, like you're the posterboy for sanity, Mr. Carida Kyp!"
My eyes roll, and I force my left arm and leg to twitch. But just doing that tires me unnaturally. My sight blacks out around the periphery, until I have tunnel vision. Tahiri bends over me, and I see her lips move. Her voice and her lips are out of sync and distorted, but I still understand.
"I act this way because I've seen everyone I love die in front of me, and you're going to die too."
I don't want to die.
"I don't want to you die either."
And then she kisses me. Her mouth is warm on top of mine, and it gets progressively hotter as my body chills. And then I can't see her, and can't feel her either.
And that's when I know I'm dead.
