[ they've done this before. he knows her cues, just as she knows his. it's so easy to open in response to her, to shift his weight as he lets go of her hand — mouth still on hers — and brace his arms, his knees on either side of her. navigate the fleeting sense of worry for her comfort without taking his attention from her. they've done this before, but in some ways it feels like a first time. they aren't in a half-empty room of a home they'd called their own in a moonlit city. this room is hideous, and unfamiliar, and anonymous. they aren't hiding from their respective demons, from recent experiences, in one another.
his touch, for its intensity, is tender in a new way. he'd told her before, with his words, i love you. now he shows her. he shows her in the way his lips meet hers; he shows her with the sweep of his tongue; he shows her with how he fumbles, one-handed and without looking, for the hem of her shirt. he shows her when he pulls his face back, but only so he can press a kiss to the base of her throat, near the kyber crystal she always wears, and then another just because. ]
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his touch, for its intensity, is tender in a new way. he'd told her before, with his words, i love you. now he shows her. he shows her in the way his lips meet hers; he shows her with the sweep of his tongue; he shows her with how he fumbles, one-handed and without looking, for the hem of her shirt. he shows her when he pulls his face back, but only so he can press a kiss to the base of her throat, near the kyber crystal she always wears, and then another just because. ]