(after Leia kisses Luke on Hoth...)
Leia Organa was losing her mind.
She strode purposefully down the corridor, in all of her royal splendor and pomp, and realized she was rushing to nowhere. But she was still full of the indignation and inexplicable wrath that had culminated in her kissing Luke in front of Han.
She'd lost her mind... It was the damn cold here.
She had surprised no one as much as herself with her impulsive display of affection. She didn't normally touch people. And people rarely touched her. Not since the jubilation following the destruction of the Death Star, when she found herself wrapped in hugs and spun in joyful relief...
She couldn't remember if anyone had hugged her since then.
It was only her immense, uncharacteristic fit of temper that had her kissing Luke.
Of course, Luke did touch her sometimes. A casual arm thrown over her shoulder, a grasp on her elbow; he was one of only two or three others that penetrated the icy aura around her and entered her personal space. And he never frightened her. Not the way...
DAMN Han Solo anyway! They had parted just this morning on a note of truce, if not peace. But now, this evening, he had to invade her space, and boast of things that were not entirely true. He raised the ire in her and she found herself rigid with rage. How he managed it in just a few short minutes, she would never know. He came into Luke's room in the med center, looking much better than the last time she saw him, and just like that her temperature rose along with her temper.
He had slung a casual, possessive arm around her shoulder and fire burned in her belly. She told herself it was indignation. If there was a soft flutter in her pulse, it was nerves, thanks to the Empire.
Luke was one of the few people in the Universe she felt close enough to, safe enough with, to have even thought of kissing. She slowed her steps, considering the revelation that while she didn't feel anything romantic from the exaggerated peck on the lips... she didn't feel scared either. That was an accomplishment, wasn't it?
Han was leaving, most likely in the morning. She didn't want him to leave on the tail of an argument. She didn't want him to leave... She shook her head at her foolishness, of course she wanted him to leave. He did nothing but incite her to entirely unsuitable displays of emotion. She would have to find it in her to be kind to him in the morning. She was, afterall, a diplomat first and foremost. She could do it.
As long as he didn't open his mouth... A long sigh escaped her.
Lost in thought, she found herself at her quarters, without any awareness of how she got there. She had only slept for minutes the long, cold night before. She managed to get her boots off before collapsing on her bunk, still fully clothed. She never remembered falling asleep.
And she slept almost the whole night.