Thank you to Jocasta Silver & Voldy's pink teddy for the reviews. : )
Two more things: the timeline of these chapters skips around. A lot. Just an F.Y.I. Second, I have a companion story to this called "Exile's Word," for those of you interested in the other side of the story.
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You're a liar.
Maybe the best liar I've ever met, because the only lies you tell are the ones strictly about yourself.
It takes one to know one, angel.
Frack, just listen to me- I'm talking as if you don't know that already.
Once I've mostly healed myself up [with no help from the kid, thank you very much] and Bao-Dur and the tin can are piloting, I casually wander the ship, pretending like I don't know you've holed yourself up in the witch's room ever since we left Dantooine.
If someone asked me if I were looking for you, I'd lie to their face.
Blondie's already at your door when I get there and a heat runs through my veins at the sight of him.
"What are you doing?" I demand, narrowing my eyes at him. He almost jumps at my voice, and I refrain from smirking. His pale blue eyes meet mine hesitantly.
It makes me wonder how he'd act if he only knew my past, like you do.
It's been years, but taking a Jedi like him down would barely be a warmup.
"Atton. I...thought she could use some company, she seemed-" he begins, turning away from the door.
"If she does, I think she'd be interested in more colorful company than yours, blondie," I snap at him, before he can get much more than a complete sentence out.
You don't need any of us, not really. At least, not like we need you.
The kid backs off and I turn back to the door.
I wait till I hear his footsteps back near the medbay, then rap my knuckles against the metal door.
"Ari?" I call, knocking again. "I'm coming in."
I pick open the lock [pure pazaak] and see that your back is to me when the door slides open.
It's unnerving.
You scare me, and that is the 100% fracking truth.
I lock the door behind myself.
"You alright, angel?" I ask uncertainly.
You only turn around when I'm a few steps away.
"Why do you follow me?" you ask abruptly, and it terrifies me. I've been expecting this question for months and still haven't come up with a lie good enough to even convince myself.
And I call myself a deserter- although, I doubt you're interested in the irony of it all, sweetheart.
"What do you mean?" I ask dumbly. My mind frantically begins playing pazaak. Counting the blips in the engine sequencers. Picturing you in that dancer getup back on Nar Shaddaa...
Old habits die har- well, actually, they just don't die.
You give me that look and I drop the mental defenses fast, feeling guilty.
"Stop pretending to be a fool and give me a straight answer for once," you state flatly, your hazel almond eyes piercing me. They're lighter today, more of a honey color, rather than copper. You start to pace, breaking eye contact and biting your lip. "Why do you all follow me, why do you do what I ask? Why...why do you kill who I kill? Why are you still here, when you obviously don't want to be?"
I balk as the questions flood out of you.
This isn't the calm, collected you I'm used to.
"Do you do it because you want to… or have to? What is making you stay with me? All of you, I mean." Your eyes shine as the words continue to tumble out of your mouth. You pause to look at me again, frustrated. "Do you understand what I'm asking?"
"If you want the truth, you're asking the wrong person, angel," I try to laugh, but I can only sigh instead.
The truth is, I have this ridiculous urge to be in the same room as you, to stand between you and anything or anyone that wants you dead.
The truth is, I don't understand it myself.
If I were someone else, or maybe if you were someone else, I could tell you this. Maybe.
But you're you, and I'm just a son-of-a-schutta, lying, gutter-scum flyboy with quick lips and a closed heart. I'm just me.
The truth is, I just need you to need me, so that maybe I can start to atone for my past for someone who matters. For you.
"Just...say something of actual substance for once," you say, shaking your head. "Lie to me, if you have to." You laugh humorlessly, before you add, "And Force, please make it convincing this time, Atton."
I want to laugh.
You don't know the half of it, sweetheart. Or maybe you do.
I take a step back, but you take two forward, your hand reaching out to grip my wrist. Two seconds and I could have you pinned against the wall so fast even your Jedi training would have you do a double-take.
No lie.
"Lie to me. Please," the look in your stormy hazel eyes is urgent and your grip on my wrist tightens slightly. "I just...I need a reason."
Lie to you?
Where do I even begin?
It's like you've just asked me to breathe.
You want a lie, princess? I'll give you the biggest one I can think of. Here it is, Ari:
"I love you," I blurt out. Is that what you want to hear, princess? Your eyes search mine, and I can't look away.
Eye contact is essential to lying.
The trick to lying is to delude yourself into thinking what you're saying is true, no matter how ridiculous. Tell yourself a lie enough times, and you can force yourself into believing it.
Your grip on my wrist loosens and the look in your eyes is impossible for me to decipher.
You take a step too close and in a matter of seconds your lips are pressed up against mine.
I'm surprised to find how...right it feels.
Honest.
If I were another person, I'd call your bluff. Why would you want this? With me, of all people? By now you know all of it. Who I've been, what I've done... If I were anyone but me, I'd have sense enough to walk away.
But me, I open my mouth to mesh with yours.
The moan you let out sends tremors all the way down to my toes.
Your hands clutch desperately at the front of my jacket and I reciprocate by pressing you up against the wall.
Your angel face is pink and you're panting when we eventually pull away.
This is what I've wanted all along, isn't it, sweetheart?
My hands skim down the curve of your waist but you don't shove me away like I fully expect you to.
"I love you," I try out the foreign words again before you can come to your senses like you should. The words sound strange on my lips and odd to my ears. I press them to your hair as I slide your robe off your shoulders. I drop my gloves and slip out of my jacket.
When we kiss again, it's not as frantic, and suddenly, I'm not thinking of ways to keep you out. Suddenly, everything outside this room doesn't matter so much anymore.
Your eyes close as I run my rough palms and calloused fingers over your exposed skin. You shudder and I shrug off my shirt before kissing you again. I feel your small hands running through my hair and down my back.
This game is nice and all, gorgeous, but I want your skin on mine.
My nerves are on fire as your tongue twists with mine and your hand travels down my chest towards my pants.
- so maybe you're not exactly the angel I imagined.
That's fine. Better, even.
I help you slide out of your tunic and leggings so I can find out for myself, and it's not long before we're horizontal on one of the bunks.
I don't want for it to be over when it finally is.
After, I drop my face down to your neck, kissing and leaving my marks on you, content to hear the pleasant sighs leaving your lips. I feel your pulse and your body relaxing under mine while we wait for our breathing to return to normal. One of your hands runs lightly through my sweaty hair and the other dances across my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I keep one of my arms wrapped securely around your waist.
"I love you," I mumble against your neck. I raise my head to give you another heavy kiss. You smile, running your fingertips across my jawline.
"I'm fine; you can stop lying," you say. We lie comfortably for a few more seconds before you slowly wriggle out of the bunk.
I watch as you redress yourself calmly. I'm still not convinced this isn't all in my mind.
"When we get to Telos..." You pause to straighten your tunic and look at me over your shoulder. "I'll need you...your help." Your hands are steady, but your eyes betray you, like always.
"Ari..." I start.
"I'm fine, Atton," you interrupt sharply. I frown. Your tone softens. "Thank you. But I'm fine."
You leave, and I watch the way your hips sway as you walk out.
For the first time, I'm not the one walking away from a bed first, and that's no lie.
The truth is, you're the only one lying now.
Scoundrel's honor.