Sorry, everyone, but I like a good cliffhanger ;) So glad you enjoyed the last chapter! Now, because I am not as mean as many seem to think ;) I am posting the next chapter a day early. Enjoy (I think you will lol)!
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Brooding, Han remained in the shower far longer than usual, the only place he was guaranteed to be left alone. He tipped his head back and allowed the steaming water to flow past his hair and down his back, small rivulets managing to stream forward to the side of his nose and trickle over his closed lips.
He still couldn't wrap his mind around everything Leia had said. Was it possible that he had misunderstood her? Had he been wrong all this time? Or was she simply grasping for a plausible explanation to explain away her early judgement of him?
Instinctively, he knew it was unlike Leia to lie. But, it was hard to just abandon this belief he had held for so long.
Dammit, he was so close to freedom. Why did Leia have to change the game on him now? He was confused, his reality turned upside down, his feelings in disarray.
Normally, he ignored complex emotions, leaving them to sort out on their own. They always did. But now, it was impossible to thrust aside the chaos raging inside him. It clamored within, demanding attention he did not want to give.
Stepping from beneath the rush of water, he stared ahead at the metal of the shower wall, aware of a now-familiar pang in his chest. It was a sensation he had never experienced before meeting Leia, and now, it cut him deeper than ever before.
Was this love?
The question had nagged at the back of his mind for a long time now, but he had ignored it, never putting it into actual words before.
He had learned a long time ago that love, in any form, brought nothing but disappointment. 'Expect nothing from no one' had been his credo for most of his life; yet, somehow, early on, something had flared between Leia and himself, something that sparked a longing, hopeful expectation.
That was his first mistake, having expectations. He should have continued to guard against it instead of getting in over his head.
And now what?
He turned around, shut off the water, and stepped out of the shower. Reaching through the steamy fog, he grabbed a towel and raked it over his hair and face.
His instinctual response was to cut and run, which was his normal reaction to any kind of feelings he didn't want to deal with. Take flight and avoid any unpleasantness…
But, even if he could, something held him back, would not allow that impulse to control his actions. He could no longer deny what that something was.
Leia had upped the stakes tonight, but Han couldn't decide if he should call or fold. Or maybe he should ask for more cards before making any sort of decision…
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he left the fresher and, on the way to his cabin, passed by the open door of the crew quarters. The light was off inside, but the night-time lights of the glow panels cast a slight gleam through the doorway. Han stopped just inside and saw Leia's slight form resting in the center of the closest bunk. He could just make out her features in the low light that made her appear softer and even more alluring.
Her dusky hair was down and seemingly everywhere; spread across the pillow, billowing behind her, dark strands softly framing her oval face. His eyes traced the delicate slope of her nose, the pouty curve of her lips, and her closed eyes looked unusual, so he took a step closer and realized they appeared swollen, as if she had been crying, although he couldn't be sure.
She was so damned beautiful, it brought a keen ache to his chest. Too many feelings swirled through him and he didn't know what to make of any of them at the moment.
The light sheets pooled around her, blending with her sleep gown, as if her body were enveloped in a sea of white foam. It brought to mind the one night they had spent together, a haven during her violent, internal storm; the surrender he had succumbed to in a moment of sheer weakness.
That night had been unlike any of his previous encounters with women and had left Han deeply affected, vulnerable, and afraid. Much like he felt right now.
His gaze caught sight of a dainty foot that had escaped the light covering and when he returned to look at her face, he saw her eyes were open and intently on his. They stared openly at each other for a long moment, neither moving. Leia's gaze was steady, unflinching and inscrutable. Han remembered he was wearing only a towel and placed one hand on the side where he had cinched it, in a pointless gesture, as if this covered him more thoroughly.
"Come here," she finally implored quietly.
He wanted to turn away, wanted to do anything but move closer to her. Yet, he found himself ambling straight towards her. When he was standing right beside the bunk, she reached a hand up and held his. He didn't resist, but a sinking feeling pervaded in his chest as she tugged him down to sit beside her prone form. A sense of unreality settled over him and he had no idea what might possibly happen next, almost felt as if it was beyond his control.
Leia was on her side, facing him, his hand in hers, as her other hand stroked his fingers. Her light touch was intoxicating, sending a shiver up his arms. She seemed to be studying his fingers as if they were the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. In a sudden motion, she pulled his hand to her mouth and softly pressed her lips against his knuckles. Lowering his hand, she looked up at him, eyes large and luminous. He was captivated.
"I love you," she whispered, and something in Han's chest splintered with shock. "I don't think I truly knew it until tonight."
The words were more than he could take and he struggled to find his voice, felt the breath stolen from his throat. For a moment, he only concentrated on breathing.
"You don't mean that," he finally replied in a strained voice.
Her expression grew wounded and her eyes only seemed larger. "Why would you say that?"
He looked away from her and shook his head dismissively, swallowing hard before answering. "You don't know me. Not really."
She sat up quickly, dropping his hand and placing one of hers gently across his cheek to turn him back to her. "I think you're too scared to let someone love you."
A gaping vulnerability swept through him and Han felt more exposed than he ever had in his life. He covered it with his usual bravado, but was certain she could see right through it. "I'm not afraid of nothin'," he blustered, forcing his gaze to remain steady on hers. She continued to stare into his eyes and he faltered, gaze flinching from hers.
"You think I don't know you?" There was an affectionate tone to her voice. "I know the real you, deep down inside. The softness behind that cool façade that you wear like armor. But, I've seen it. I've seen you when you're scared, when you're caring, when you're worried about me. I've seen you pretend not to care." She paused for a heartbeat. "I know you so much more than you realize."
Han was losing himself, drowning in her presence, his defenses beginning to crumble.
"That night we spent together," she said earnestly, eyes boring into his. "After…" She looked away, took a long, deep breath then returned her gaze to his. "After my father was killed." She swallowed. "My head was not in the right place."
Resentment surged through him. "You used me that night." He heard the anger in his own voice.
"No," she breathed quickly. "I wasn't using you. That wasn't it at all."
He could barely believe he was accusing her. As if he had never used women as a distraction, a diversion, a good time. Had any of those women felt this way? "Then what was it? Cause after, it was like it never happened."
Her eyes fell to their joined hands. "I know. And that was so wrong of me. I was grieving and confused."
"And that's why you went to bed with me."
Her eyes shot back to his at the accusatory tone. "No. That's not why. Han, I had these feelings for you for so long. And when I kissed you that night, after that thing attacked you when you first got to Nimbla IV…you acted like it meant nothing, as if you didn't want me. It left me feeling hurt and confused, and thinking I had made a mistake. Even though it felt as if all the emotions I had been holding back had pulsed between us, like they were a living, breathing thing."
The moment came back to him in a rush; the adrenaline coursing through him, the shock of her mouth suddenly on his, the desire and confusion that battled within him.
"It seemed as if you were pulling me towards you and pushing me away at the same time," she continued. "And all the while, I knew you would be leaving. And that thought always stayed with me."
Han averted his eyes. He didn't know what to say about any of this.
"And then there was the night of the Rogue's party," she added quietly.
It hit Han suddenly what had happened that night and his eyes flew to her, only to find her gaze avoidant.
"You walked out, angry that I didn't want to…but—"
"I get it now." He quickly cut her off and squeezed her hand reassuringly. He hadn't put the pieces together before, even when she confided her virginity.
She looked at him questioningly, seeming to search his eyes. He figured she must have found what she was looking for when she nodded slowly and seriously.
"It was too much, too fast," she said. "I wasn't ready." She took a deep, shaky breath. "The night we left Nimbla IV, you were there, holding me and comforting me, and it was like everything bad that had passed between us just disappeared. And all that was left was how much I wanted to be close to you. Nothing else mattered for a little while, and it was beautiful."
He looked away again, her words becoming too much. Beautiful seemed a perfect way to describe it. Too many feelings raged inside him, threatening to overwhelm. He wanted to run away, yet gather her close and never let her go, both at the same time. Gods, he was in too deep.
"But, the next morning, I was grieving and angry, and determined to make the Empire pay. And there was no room for anything else. I'm sorry."
Han felt he should say something, but words failed him yet again. How was it so easy for her to tell him all this? He nodded to acknowledge her apology, eyes unable to remain on hers, frowning at his own internal conflict.
"But, I'm here now. And I love you. And I hope you can forgive me and give me a chance to show you how I really feel."
He looked up at her and her eyes seemed even darker and larger, pleading with him to understand. He swallowed hard and tried to summon a response. "Leia, I can't make any promises. About anything. I'm supposed to be leaving soon and—"
She placed a finger against his lips and halted his words. "I know there are no promises. I know you have a deadline and that you might be flying off to who-knows-where." She brushed her fingers across his cheek. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."
The softness of her touch felt like nothing Han had ever experienced before. When she grazed his lower lip with one finger, he sucked in a breath and knew he had no control left. His arms went around her and he crushed her to him, kissing her desperately, with a moan of sheer longing. He had been fighting against this desire for so long; at the moment, he couldn't remember why.
Her hands glided across the naked skin of his back, so warm and enticing, as their mouths entwined in an intimate, fiery embrace, and nothing had ever felt as erotic as her tongue caressing his.
He needed to feel her skin under his hands; he found the bottom of her sleep gown and slid his fingers beneath it, eliciting a gasp from Leia. Her hands left his back and he felt her lifting at the material of her gown. She wrenched her mouth from his for a brief moment until she had pulled the gown off and tossed it carelessly to the floor. In one smooth motion, her fingers were around his face and she was guiding him back in place to resume the kiss.
Her breasts melted against his chest and it felt too good, made him moan with pure pleasure. Her hands left his face as one strayed to his shoulder and the other tugged the towel from his waist. Han was overwhelmed with need. He pushed her backwards onto the bed and gently lowered his body over hers.
So many feelings roared through him, a miasma that overwhelmed him. He could barely believe she was here, in this bunk, in his arms, wanting him as much as he wanted her.
They melded together, and he wanted to take things slowly, but Leia's legs parted, and he was so close to the blissful center of her; with a mix of a gasp and a moan, he sunk inside her as their mouths came apart and her groan of pleasure joined his. She was wet and as ready as he was.
The fast heat of her sent a tremor through him and nothing else mattered, nothing else seemed to exist other than the sheer bliss of their bodies joined.
And now, he took it slowly; he thrust more deeply inside her, reveling in the sharp, throaty moans it evoked from her lips; they roared beside his ear, inflaming him. He pressed his mouth to the soft skin of her neck and gently sucked as he almost withdrew from her, then plunged more deeply yet again. Over and over, he repeated the motion, and with each thrust inside her they moaned in unison, marveling at the startling sensations each new movement brought them.
Her hips rose to meet his and her fervor caused him to abandon any and all control, mindless, primal instincts taking over. Soon, he was rocking deeply inside her, gasping at the way she writhed beneath him, the sense of completion of filling her, being one with her. The harmony of the way they moved together, so seamlessly, was beautiful and agonizing at the same time, like nothing Han had ever felt before.
Then, quickly, he felt the beginnings of that total loss of restraint as he neared fulfillment. In that moment, Leia's body began to buck and writhe, her flesh pulsating around him, intensifying the rush of sensation that seemed to surge through his being; he cried out, an endless roar that mixed with the sound of Leia's wail of ecstasy near his ear.
It seemed forever that he streamed inside her, muscles tensing then quivering, then tensing once again. Leia was clutching him convulsively throughout the shuddering spasms that claimed her for the longest time.
Finally, utterly spent and depleted, he collapsed on top of her, quickly realized the totality of his weight, and rolled to his back, grabbing her close to his chest and bundling her against him. Gasping, they both tried to catch their breath.
All the muscles in Han's body felt weak. Never before had he felt such pleasure and peace as in that moment, as if both his body and soul were completely satisfied. He remained unmoving, enjoying the unfamiliar feeling of pure happiness and comfort.
"I love you," she whispered breathlessly into his chest.
Her words shattered his contentedness, as long-standing fears descended upon him again. He swallowed against a dry throat. With no response in mind, he lay in uneasy silence.
"You don't have to say anything," she said quietly. "I just had to say it. Because I finally can." She rubbed a hand across the muscles of his chest and made a soft purr of contentment as she snuggled closer.
An inexplicable feeling of detachment settled over Han. It felt vaguely familiar, yet he had never been so completely aware of it before. It was as if everything inside him went suddenly numb. Leia placed a light kiss on his chest and he barely felt it.
She loved him. He tried to digest this idea but found it impossible. He could hear her breathing start to slow, had thought he was close to sleep himself, but now found that he was wide awake, mind racing.
Too much had happened tonight. He couldn't process it. He had said he would think about things, and yet, somehow, he had ended up in bed with her.
Just to make things more confusing, he thought ruefully. Should've stayed far away until I could get the blood rushing back to my head.
But, it had happened and now Han didn't know what to do with it. What would she think it meant? What did he think it meant?
He didn't know how he felt, much less what it meant. What was he going to do in the morning? What would he say?