I believed him.
It was impossible not to.
Tears had dampened the corners of his eyes, but his face was strong, brave and compassionate. His eyes burned into mine, longing to eliminate every trace of hurt and anger from my being. No one but my father has ever offered that kind of strength to me before. Not Zekk or Jag or even Jacen.
I felt my walls crumbling.
I reached out in the Force and took the hand he had extended to my heart. The moment I brushed his powerful presence, I broke. I fell against his chest and felt his life force merge into mine. His strength enveloped me, in a way I can't describe and I wept uncontrollably.
After several minutes, I calmed down and sort of fell into a state of shock. I couldn't believe I'd fallen apart in front of him. I couldn't believe I'd just emptied my soul out on him. I couldn't believe I'd let him see me this way! I felt so embarrassed and ashamed—but it was too late to undo it.
I thought about pushing him away again—but it was so much more comfortable to stay in his embrace. I became surprised at how calm and rational I felt—until I noticed the waves of peace flowing from him through the Force. I knew what he was trying to do, but I am not a simple-minded creature who can be smoothed over with Force-fed peace. Especially not after multiple senseless tragedies! Anger welled up inside me as I squirmed away from the waves, and tried again to physically push out of his embrace.
"Don't feed me that, Kyp." I mumbled. "I don't want it!" He felt understandably confused, until he met my eyes. I glanced away, feeling weak and disgusting with tears all over my face.
"Don't conjure peace for me. There is none to be given. There is nothing you can say right now." I sniffled hard and wiped my face with my hand. "I don't need Force persuasion," I continued. "I just need--"
Kyp pulled back and looked at me, but didn't say a word. The waves stopped, and I never finished my sentence. I wondered how he could stand to look at me with snot and tears all over my face, but he didn't seem to mind at all. And Force, it felt so nice to be held. I felt his lips fall soft on my forehead and I knew he already knew what I needed.
"Okay." He whispered.
He stopped talking and thinking and just held me close against his chest. I suddenly had absolutely no desire to move. I felt his heartbeat against my face and was grateful that I wasn't wearing any makeup—as it would now be running all over my face and his white shirt.
After several moments, he called the towel from the bed and handed it to me so I could wipe my face. I did so, hastily and then smoothed damp hair out of my eyes. His hands were still on my hips and even the warmth of his fingertips was comforting.
I quickly glanced up at his face. He needed to shave, and if I hadn't been so rattled, I would've told him so. Of course, if I hadn't been so rattled, I probably would never have been this close to his face. His emerald eyes flashed at me with concern, and his long, dark hair was still damp from the rain or the shower and was starting to curl up on the ends.
Force, he looked so sleepy and rugged and handsome.
And when that started to happen, it was time to get away.
Pulling up Jag's face in my head, I slid away from Kyp and walked toward the bed. But as soon as I sat down, I hated myself for moving. What good was thinking about Jag going to do right now? He was light years away—and even if he was here, I doubt he'd know what to do. Jag is so logical, and I'm so passionate—it's like he just doesn't know how to handle me sometimes.
Actually… as much as I hate to admit it, I don't think he'll ever get me the way Kyp does. It's not his fault that he's not a Jedi… and I don't care about him any less for it… it's just that Kyp and I are cut from the same cloth. We're both so brash and reckless and unorthodox. Whereas Jag is so refined and distinguished and—normal. I've never seen anyone stay so ice cold in the face of adversity.
Sometimes I don't know how I hold his attention. I mean, if I was him, I doubt I'd put up with me. Plus, with his flight skills and unshakeable confidence and perfectly chiseled body, he could have his pick from any number of women…
But he'd chosen me. And because he was the perfect distraction from my burgeoning—something—with Kyp, I let my guard down and I let him in. And since we were such opposites, it worked between us—most of the time. Until something like this happened.
Jagged Fel prided himself on being devoid of every emotion. So anytime I fell into this state—which was not often-- I stayed clear of him. I relied on Jacen or Anakin to get me through.
But they're both gone. There's nowhere else to run.
The most confusing person in my life, is currently the only one I can rely on. And now that he's seen me emotionally naked—there's really no turning back. After the Worldship stunt, I never thought I'd trust Kyp with anything ever again—especially not with my own, very private emotions…
But here I am; ugly… vulnerable… and wishing he would hurry up and come sit next to me.
He must have felt my turmoil, because after a moment, he strolled over and did just that. His presence was so powerful, like being in the orbit of a huge sun. And I was pleasantly surprised that he'd been so strong and silent throughout my ordeal—and by silent I mean not obnoxious, arrogant, sarcastic or abrasive. In fact, he still wasn't quite close enough for my liking, but I was too embarrassed to say anything about it.
"You can try to sleep in here, if you want." He muttered.
In acknowledgement, I immediately fell onto the pillow and curled up in a ball on the bed. I blinked tear-swollen eyes at him and watched as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. I wish I didn't know that he always did that when he was tired or flustered. Tonight he was both, and I sort of felt bad for taking over his bed.
"Where will you sleep?"
He glanced at me for a long moment and rose from the bed.
"I'm okay for now."
Liar. But a noble one, at least.
He started toward the computer room, and before I could catch my own tongue, I sat up halfway and heard myself ask, "Where are you going?"
He turned around and met my eyes. Whatever look I gave him must have worked because after a moment, he extended his arm, called a chair from across the room and sat down in it near the head of the bed.
"Nowhere."
I smiled as much as I could, and even let him feel a hint of my exhausted relief and appreciation. His gaze met mine, intrigued. I quickly shut my eyes and we sat in silence listening to the howling storm for a few moments. When I reopened my eyes, he was still looking at me, and he didn't even flinch when I met his emerald gaze.
Suddenly, the chair was much too far away.
I felt cold. I wanted contact. I was overcome by a desire to be held by him again, and I was too tired to talk myself out of it. I pushed aside a twinge of guilt as my fingers dug into the thin sheet.
"Kyp…"
He looked at me expectantly—and I froze.
My heart and body wanted him beside me, more than anything. But my pride wouldn't allow it.
No.
I did not need him. And I couldn't bring myself to ask him for anything else. Jaina Solo is not a cuddleslut.
I closed my mouth and felt ashamed of my needy loneliness. But suddenly, he stood from his chair, towering over me.
"Move over." He said quietly.
I smashed the excited feeling rising in my gut. "Really?" slipped out.
He almost smiled. "Move over."
-Kyp Durron-Notice of retraction: Sharing an uncomfortable, tiny-ass bed with Jaina Solo's ass is totally okay with me. Anytime.