Private Something So Gleaming

[Ishida Ashina]

He saw to it that the coolness in their separation was quickly vanquished. The apartment was far, far larger than the cockpit of the X-Wing, and even with so much room to occupy, the pair who had been separated a year found themselves unable to be apart more than a handful seconds. The minute she’d used to cross the room earlier had been a luxury neither could afford, and they were paying back their debt even now.

The last time they’d danced like this, it had been through a veil of personas. Adopted prefixes they used to feel more comfortable travelling into new territory. His movements reminded her of that playful exchange, the first time he’d admitted his love for her, all the build-up, all the anticipation and development that had been necessary to cross that threshold. And how she’d crumbled from it all. Fiction that had borne fruits of truth — and even now, the relentless pounding behind her breastbone resounded doubly through the ghosts of Sir and Miss on Yavin.

But those memories were made of air, and blew away. The present was made of muscle and balance. And as dreamlike as the moment felt, it was real. Doubly so when he made the transition to dip and her instincts forced response.

At first, her fingertips flexed in protest. Her knees were stiff. Inadvertently, her body tightened, angry at the exchange of balance, but with his eyes steady on hers, somehow that deep roiling protest found a semblance of peace and she relaxed. The resistance waned, her weight shifted and her legs extended and bent respectively until she was perpendicular to him.

It was not a position many a warrior could find success in — Ishida was significantly compromised. If she slipped either of her feet forward or backward, she’d relinquish whatever tenuous level of control she had over balance. If she gripped him, or pulled him down too forcibly, he’d crumble along with her. The level of care he was offering demanded she meet him with trust and, if she wanted escape, ingenuity.

But she’d let him get this far.

Weightless and charmed, the arch of her brow and the sharp corners of her lips softened. All the conniving in her expression, all she meant to exhibit and wear, just dissolved — unable to stem the tide of her moonish grin. Her usual, impenetrable façade of stone melted to water, emotion ringing out like ripples.

Although her attention on him was sharp, everything around that had to do with choice and reaction was murkish and bewildered. Her body felt electric, like energy crackled just below her skin. Sharper than fire, brilliant and biting. There was something wonderful about the sureness he moved with, no recoiling as earlier, and as much as he’d expressed a desire to be fully present with her through The Force, she couldn’t imagine them being any more connected than now.

A breath hitched between them, floating between teasing magnetism. Her tongue touched her lips, peeking through the want. Her hand tensed in his.

There were few outcomes she could pursue — but none fit the game as well as the one she chose. She could have gone back to mockery, insisting his actions were a threat of different sorts to counter her initial threat. She could have kissed him wordlessly. Or, she could have feigned slumber in the sweet hammock of his arms.

"No?" She feigned the crossroads between disappointment and surprise terribly.

Was Bernard threatening her, promising that her threats held no sway here? Coercion was only actualized through threat or…

She’d been more prudent with her footwork than she’d been conscious of. Years of conditioning weren’t so quickly shed. The foot behind her was braced by her right ankle, her left leg out on its own. Previously extended, but ready to move at a moment’s notice. Her shoulders arrowed forward, her hips pressed up to not leer too dangerously in the sling of his grace, and her nose forced against his. Bewitching loopiness almost triumphed her senses, but she managed with an extra press of defiance and struggle, shoving up and hooking her heel to his and straightening her knee to exhibit the potential. It may have to be ungraceful, but it would be coercion of a more aggressive nature.

With threats apparently having no favour in the court of Arca, Ishida saw only the other side of coercion available.

She pressed her grin devilishly against the softness of his own sly curve: “Force, then.”

 

[Bernard]

Joy began to bubble forth in Ishida's expression as her eyes lit up and her lips curled into a wide smile. It was infectious. Bernard's focus broke as the corner of his mouth curled slightly into a smile.

His sense of safety turned out to be premature, however, as Ishida shifted beneath him, drawing a gasp from Bernard. Her leg curled around his and he felt her pull on his neck, bringing them closer together. Bernard's balance faltered momentarily, making them sway with Ishida's upward jolt. Reflexively, he pulled his arm into her back. His foot moved to better handle their new balance and he let go of her hand to use his free arm as a counterweight. Just in time, it appeared, to bring them out of the danger zone of toppling.

He realized only afterwards that she'd kissed him, and the expression of concern he wore melted into a smug grin. His free hand fell to her knee while his eyes met hers.

"Force only works..." He began and his hand brushed to her other knee, along its side and under her leg.

"When you hold the stronger hand." He closed his eyes to kiss her again, a deeper kiss meant to distract as he, suddenly, rose to his full height, lifting her with him.

For a couple more heartbeats, he kept their lips joined. The rush of excitement he'd felt when they nearly lost their balance began to fade as they kissed. He didn't want to let the kiss fade, though this desire was double-edged. In part, he wanted to disarm her with it and make sure she didn't try to retaliate somehow, but he was also simply unwilling to lose that feeling. All the affection they'd shared felt like barely a blink of an eye compared to their year apart. They had a lot of catching up to do if they ever wanted to make up for lost time.

Eventually, their lips had to part. Bernard leaned away, still lingering in the haze the feeling left him in, simply appreciating that this was their reality again. After the moment passed, he placed a small kiss on the tip of her nose.

"I'll have to leave soon, I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically. "The timing of our reunion was a bit inopportune. I...didn't know when best to mention it."

 

[Ishida Ashina]

She felt his touch against her legs, but she did not look. The challenge happened three points: balance, words, and the intensity of their eye contact. The millimetres of nothing between them closed, filled instead with everything they had to feel.

His speech denied her advancement, and any protest or teasing back never got the chance to air — only a small noise of shock that buzzed between their lips. Their balance tipped and in a swift exchange of strengths, Ishida’s one chance to flip the scenario was gone. Her footing was lost entirely, and her sensibility soon followed.

"I'll have to leave soon, I'm sorry." "The timing of our reunion was a bit inopportune. I...didn't know when best to mention it."

Disappointment pulled at her face and shoulders, and she resisted the urge to slump in his arms. The arm around his neck loosened involuntarily, and she sighed.

“Understandable — I did show up out of nowhere. Chancing that you might not even be here.”

This was, of course, one of the scenarios she’d mentally prepared for. Her arrival was inopportune — but all the build-up they’d managed to this point hadn’t made it to her imagination. "I'll count my fortune you were, though."

She felt an embarrassing amount of need mix with the disappointment that pulled at her shoulders, and she moved the arm looped around his neck to rest more on his shoulders, brushing her fingers through the sharp distinction where his hair was thick and severe, and his undercut.

As inopportune as her arrival was, his departure was equally so. At least, this time, it wouldn’t be a full year apart. She could manage.

“How long do we have until you have to leave?”

 

[Bernard]

"Just enough time," he turned to the morning wraps still sitting on the kitchen counter, "to have breakfast."

Bernard didn't have to look to pull the blanket towards them with the Force. The small room had become intimately familiar. It fell to the floor behind them, roughly covering the stretch between kitchen and bed. He shifted, turning to the blanket, and hugged Ishida, protectively, close as he moved to kneel. He'd seen her ruin beasts of war in moments, but while he carried, her that didn't seem to matter. She became the most precious being in the galaxy, formidable and delicate at once.

He set her down with diligence and careful movements. Her feet brushed the blanket first, and he made certain to support her back before he let the ground become her foundation against gravity.

He removed his arm from her legs but kept the other wrapped around her back. For several moments, he regarded her, leaning close. Transfixed, as though what he saw was divine and might vanish or turn to dust under his touch, he remained still. She'd been ruin to beasts of war, but still, she was human. Made of soft skin, a heart, and blood that spilt too quickly. She was formidable and still as delicate as any other being.

He spoke a silent word of gratitude to the Force, the Ones, to her that he could see her again, unharmed.

"I love you, Ishida Ashina. Did you know that?t?" He said, finally.

"I thought I might mention it again because I don't know if you quite know that I love you. Because I do, I love you, and I want to let this feeling grow, not apart as it's done until today, but with you. And I'll tell you again and again how I feel, freely. I love you." He placed a kiss against her nose, gently, then leaned back to sit down next to her, so her knees could rest against his side and smiled.

Ishida Ashina

 

[Ishida Ashina]

I WON'T BE UNKIND
I SWEAR THIS TIME​

The way he looked at her was reminiscent of that beautiful and silent exchange they’d had on Yavin, where for a few precious moments, they’d surrendered to unhurried readiness to be lost in one another’s eyes. Here he was, so wholly present in a scenario she’d been unable to build dreams about. Those nights she remembered the looked at her like the way he did now, she never let herself wander too far — never let herself build anything so inconceivable. What was the likelihood she’d get a chance to be looked at like that twice?

Silence had never been so eloquent.

Although withdrawn to a degree, he felt easy in The Force. Relaxed, calm.

"I love you, Ishida Ashina. Did you know that?"

Her silent wonder turned to numb shock. Part of her was about to interject with a combative statement, ready to slip back into their tender games. But he wasn’t done. There was more she had to know — so much more that there was not a syllable that belonged to their sometimes world of make-believe.

Silver gaze searched through his cloudy whites, seeking the subtle line of his irises to be shifting as though he weren’t offering up as much as he was. As though a small percentage might be leering behind the corner of his irises, or lurking in his lashes, waiting to drop the expectation that came with such a free expression.

Freely. No coercion from threats or force. Freely.

But maybe, if she could believe it, if she could trust his voluntary promises, she could recognize that beyond their teasing, his expression was wholly elective because that’s how he deeply, and how truly he felt. The concept warred against her whole life, a lifetime spent coveting action over words.

She’d teased him because she’d understood how hard it was to express the depth of their affections, and it was easier to understand when it was something that was given as a reward for her efforts and something she pulled from him. Even in the past few heartfelt exchanges, she could tie them back to cause and effect: The necklace he’d given her was in response to her promise, she’d understood that token. His declaration of the three words had been in response to her flirtatious appeal to hear them – but once, twice, thrice of his own volition unattached to anything made her stall.

With the careful intensity of which he spoke, with no hesitation in his voice, she felt it reverberate against her body like another kind of caress. Straight from him and into her. He’d spoken her language enough to warm her to loving understanding, and readied her enough to hear what he had to say. His words warmed her ears, stuffing her consciousness and finding their way to her bloodstream to make her heat rise.

Bernard kissed the tip of her nose, and her eyes fell closed. When they opened again, he was next to her, her body still casually connected to his. Her knees melted into his side.

He smiled sweetly at her, no deceptive crookedness set in his lips. His eyes were soft, settled contentedly on hers. He just sat there, easily, looking sweet and light and...in love. He looked perfect.

How could she look away?

Feelings swelled in her chest and grew and grew. It got so big within its containment that it started to ache. Emotion throbbed at the base of her throat, and she swallowed before she spoke.

Her mouth parted, and all those words that had built up to thrum in her throat came out in a click of air. Soundlessness stained her lips, disbelief still veiled her ability to communicate. His wholeheartedness made her breathless and left her with not even enough breath to make her vocal chord buzz. Just move her lips noiselessly.

She tried again, forcing her way through the obstacle of history. Maybe if she tried a less direct approach….

“You are very convincing,” Ishida whispered, volume slowly winding its way back into her speech. The words felt wrong in her mouth. They didn’t match the sincerity of his divulgence and she felt frustrated, once again, at the clumsiness of dialogue. “Just when I thought hearing I love you was my favourite thing to hear, you go and say.." She drew in a breath, held it, and released it — words sailed out on her exhale: "So much more."

The air settled between them.

"To be so giving, I —” She flexed her fingertips against the velvety surface of the dark blanket to prevent them from trembling. He’d meant earlier to join her within The Force, to be fully with her. But this, this was enough. “I can feel your genuininess.” She admitted, casting her eyes away for reprieve.

The edge of the blanket coaxed her to continue the pathways she’d tapped a toe to earlier — to try out trust for a change.

She smiled back. “I was genuine too when I said I didn’t want you to feel loneliness again...and that I’m here for you.” The hem of the blanket grew uninteresting, and she wanted to see his face again. She looked up.

The words still felt foreign, but right somehow. She’d grown in their time apart enough to be deserving of the affection he was willing to share. “What that looks like, I don’t know.” She admitted but quickly added: “but I love you too, and I’m ready to find out together.

More than ready. I want to. I wanted to before, and then again the moment you opened your door, now, and after what’s about to pull you away. I'll keep wanting, and I'll keep loving. I know it. Now you know it too."

Now the trick was going to be knowing he loved her as much.

Thudding loudly, her heart warned her she had to act and do something.

“For right now —” With a gentle gesture, the silver-wrapped Ronto Wraps floated from their spot on the counter. They’d cooled considerably by now, and were soon joined by the caf Bernard had made minutes earlier.

“Nuna meat or Ithorian garden loaf?” She hovered a hand over one, and then the other respectively, and watched to see if a sparkle of recognition would flare up in his eyes.