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He sighed, the sound gloomy, foreboding. “You know, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Rhinaa frowned. “About what?”
Even in the dark, she could sense him, searching, and she caught his hand, lacing their fingers together.
Were his trembling?
“The future.” His voice was steady but she frowned at the delay in his reply. “There’s been talk about meeting with the Empire to deal with the threat of the Emperor. But…”
Rhinaa rolled over, sliding her free hand to rest lightly on his chest. “I thought you said you were Force-blind?” she murmured, forcing her voice into a teasing lilt.
He made a face at her words and she could feel her smile slide off her face. Theron rarely brought up anything negative when they could manage to sneak off together. It was rare enough for them to have time together that they had tacitly agreed to reserve the time for each other alone, without work or other stresses interfering. If Theron would mention it now…
“I’ll be fine,” she returned. She peered at him, ignoring the chill creeping down her spine at the worry she could sense radiating off of him, before learning over, pressing her lips to his pursed ones until he relented with another sigh, relaxing and pulling her close.
“I know.”
For a long moment, all she could hear was his breaths, the rise and fall of his chest, slow and lulling.
When he finally spoke, his voice was scarcely any louder. “I lied.”
Rhinaa tilted her head up to look at him more clearly. “About what?”
“Why I never worked with anyone else.”
She blinked, recalling the conversation on Rishi, months ago. He had side-stepped her inquiry entirely, deflected it with blasé humor that she had come to realize was an act, a defense mechanism he had slowly, gradually, let her see behind.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, sliding closer. “You don’t have to—”
His arm tightened around her, cutting off her words. “No, I just… never really thought about it before.”
She said nothing, her fingers tightening around his as he gathered his thoughts.
“You learn a few things over the years, when raised by the Jedi and working for the SIS.” He sighed, the sound hardly quieter than his voice, eyes focused on something far, far away. “One of the hardest and most important rules is that some things are a whole hell of a lot easier when nobody loves you.”
Rhinaa flinched at the undercurrent in his tone, of pain and bitterness and cold certainty. His face was set, as still as stone, refusing to look at her, though his fingers clamped around hers, warm and desperate and almost painfully tight.
“That’s not true.” When he didn’t respond, she sat up, glaring at him. “It’s not! Master Satele cares, I know it. Even if she doesn’t always show it, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel it. And…”So do I. But she couldn’t force the words out.
“She’s a Jedi. She’s the Grand Master. We both know she can’t.” Rhinaa swallowed at the thinly concealed accusation directed at more than Master Satele. Directed at her.
“That doesn’t matter,” she retorted, her voice fierce. “That doesn’t stop her. It never will.”
Again, he said nothing and she leaned back, doubt worming its way into her heart. Did he really think that of his mother? Of relationships in general?
Of her?
“Do you regret this?” Her voice was tiny and she swallowed again, hard, as she forced her fingers to let go, to give him space.
His eyes finally focused on her, unadulterated shock flashing across his face for a brief moment, accompanied by pain and something she couldn’t quite identify.
“No,” he growled, tightening his grip on her hand as she moved to pull away. “No,” he repeated, softer, his voice rough. “Never. Things might be easier, but…” He looked away with a sigh, even as he pulled her close. “But now, there’s incentive. There’s something worth fighting for.”
Rhinaa sucked air into a suddenly tight chest, her heart pounding, aching, as she pressed against him, as he untangled their hands and cupped her face, lightly, lightly.
As he kissed her, lips warm and incredibly gentle against her own.
“You know,” she murmured as she lay with her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, “the Jedi are wrong.”
Theron huffed a quiet laugh. “Which time?”
She flicked lazily at his nose and rolled her eyes even as her lips curled upwards. “About attachments. They aren’t all bad.”
“Oh.” She hummed as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Definitely not.”