haveyourmoments | (no subject)

(no subject)

Every day I wake up in my palatial bed with a renewed sense of regret, wishing that there had been any other way to save Alderaan other than agreeing to marry Isolder, my now husband, the Prince of Hapan. There’s nothing wrong with him, exactly, he’s polite and proper and beautiful, of course, with his long blonde hair and blue-gray eyes. He’s kind, and patient with me and never fails to forgive my temper, but somehow that oboe makes it worse, makes me feel like an unruly child instead of his wife, his equal.

He tells me that he’s selected a new pilot for my flagship, that this stranger will be my bodyguard as well due to the ongoing threats in my life and I do my best not to sulk, knowing I’m capable of taking care of myself, but instead nodding and accepting his unassuming kiss on my cheek.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I stroke her waist with my thumb, closing my eyes as I relish the feeling.

I guide his hand higher, just underneath my breast, letting him feel his way , enjoying his touch.

I deftly swipe my hand over her breast, moaning softly at its warmth.

I sigh contently, tucking my face into his neck as he touches me, my frayed nerves always soothed by his tenderness.

"You're so beautiful," I murmur, sleepy but awake enough to appreciate what's happening.

“So are you,” I murmur, my eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “Get some rest, baby, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Stay with me,” I say, even though she’s already said she will.

“I’m right here,” I murmur softly, shifting only enough to make sure I’m far enough away from his injured arm. “I’m never leaving.”

It’s not just the pain, it’s how good the drugs that are meant to tame it feel. I find myself asking Leia again and again for just one note fix, that it will be the last one.

“Han, we don’t have any more,” I tell him, a white lie. We do have more, but not much, and I know we’ll have to land for a refill, and I absolutely cannot handle the idea of being that vulnerable.

“Please, I need it,” I say, though the lines of want and need have been blurred.

“We’re out, sweetheart,” I say, pleading with him. “Please, I’ll give you anything else.”

I turn away from her, hugging myself as best I can with my healing arm.

“Han,” I say softly, starting to reach for him and stopping myself before I do. I miss him, even though he’s right there.

“I’m in pain,” I say softly. “Don’t you understand that?”

“I…I’ll check the kit again,” I say softly, too upset to keep arguing, too guilty to tell him no. I go to where I hid the last few doses and grab another needle, kneeling back next to the bed.

I hold out my arm, already anticipating the high, the escape from the pain and the panic and my past.

“Do you think we could try a half dose?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful as I bite my lip. “You just…you’ve been sleeping a lot, lately, and I…I thought maybe we could work on my cooking skills?”

I want to say no, I want to be more demanding, but I love her. And so I say: “Okay.”

I’m sure my eyes light up, but I try not to overreact, not wanting to do anything that could cause him to change his mind. I lean forward and kiss his cheek quickly, thanking him, and then giving him the injection.

I force myself to sit, leaning across to kiss her. I’m dizzy, and woozy, but I’m awake.

I kiss him back with a lot of enthusiasm and probably a little bit of desperation as well, missing the intimacy and needing to feel like I’m enough for him.

“Mmm,” I murmur against her lips before sliding my hands into her hair.

“Feels good,” I tell him, leaning in and deepening the kiss.

“I always want to make you feel good,” I say, cupping her cheek with my good hand and kissing along her jawline.