This ficlet is M-rated for sexual content.
Oh.
His hands tightened on her hips, his breath hissed in her ear. One hand swept from her hip, across her torso, warm, flat against her breast. She pressed back against his hips, their rhythm deep, hypnotic. Exultant. The sheets bunched against her knees unevenly, the fabric against her skin felt rough.
Oh.
His lips on her temple, soft. His chest against her back, strong. The deep rumble of his voice, hitting her deep in her stomach, a primal reaction that she couldn't help. It was the most dangerous place she'd ever been, in bed with him, consumed and falling when she knew she shouldn't. When she knew distance was much safer.
Oh, but.
But he cared, she told herself. The way he holds her, the way he takes her in, watches her, loves her. No one could fool her that well. No one could invest this much time, risk his life for her, hang onto her with so much desperation and not feel anything. The way he says her name like a prayer, like absolution. The way he—
But.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Yes, he could deceive her. Yes, he could lie. He could hold her with naked adoration and still leave. Her own hopeless fall could be nothing to him.
And.
And there was nothing she could do. His lips, hips, heart could be hers for a moment and he could still leave. Would still leave.
He was still leaving.
She closed her eyes, out of the moment, her head destroying the only reprieve she had from these thoughts. His breath still whispered against her temple, the sweetsour feeling of his arm tight around her torso, his hoarse cries.
He rearranged their bodies without her realizing it, too caught up in her own struggle. He wrapped his arms around her, murmured into her ear, folded everything he was around everything she was. She wanted to imprint the feeling into her brain for a darker day, when he left, when she was alone. If this was all she could have of him, she would cherish it. Wasn't it better to know? Instead of constantly wondering?
She wouldn't confess anything. She'd keep her mouth shut. They'd enjoy this interlude, and he'd leave, and in the months and years after she'd think of him fondly. The ache would disappear with him, eventually. Someday this feeling would fade. Someday the mystery of his fate wouldn't haunt her.
Oh, Leia, she thought. You were supposed to be smarter than this.
But, she answered herself, he cares. This wasn't a mistake. I had to know. I needed to feel this.
And, her better self replied, what good has it done you?
Leia blinked, settled her forehead against his neck, tried to memorize the slowing rhythm of his heart.
I didn't have a choice, she thought. I love him. I had to know.
And her darkest voice whispered to her, intruding on the only home she had left, the one she'd found in him though she couldn't tell him that.
Then you have no one to blame but yourself.
