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06.23.2012 , 09:07 AM |
Rite of passage prompt
Some Chapter 1 Trooper spoilers and a Gone with the Wind reference.
Mitka stood on the balcony of the small house the mayor had offered Havoc to use as their base of operations. Armor long forgotten she stood there in a black tank top and light weight cargo pants, she was enjoying her first Tatooine sunset. Elara was nose deep in a book outlining common desert planet ailments and treatments, 4X was in sleep mode, avoiding unnecessary motor and circuit overheating. She had sent Jorgan out to secure speeders for the following day, she wasn’t ready to deal with him yet. The dossier on Fuse was on the table inside of the house, she had read it, and re-read it, she knew she shouldn’t trust him, but something about him, she wanted to.
The first sun dipped under the horizon, the sky was on fire with reds, and pinks, and oranges, against an impossible blue sky. She heard him come in the front door, his armor hit the floor with a thud, it was hot out easily 45 degrees Celsius, and she imagined the Cathar was sweltering in his fine layer of fur. He emerged from the house in a t-shirt and the same regulation pants she had on. She followed him with her bright yellow eyes, a slight frown on her burgundy lips.
“I brought a peace offering” He held up a bottle of beer, dripping with condensation, she grabbed it, thankful. A beer was exactly what she needed. He let out a low whistle when he looked out at the view, “wow!”
They both took long deep swings from their beers, the cool smooth drink, cooling them from the inside.
“Did you know beer is cheaper then water here? He asked, he was avoiding, looking past her, he was feeling guilty. Finally he sighed, and his emerald green eyes met hers.
“Look, I’m sorry for what I did on Nar Shaddaa” he took another swig, “I was out of line, I just…I know guys like Balkar, all looks, and charm and only ever after one thing. I was trying to…”
“Protect me?” Mitka finished his sentence for him, he nodded sheepishly. She wasn’t angry, his heart was in the right place, but she was sad, it was a sadness that had persisted throughout most of her life.
“Aric, I have a ridiculously over protective father, and two older brothers, my honor has all the protection it’ll ever need.” She ran a hand through her dark hair.
“I don’t need another brother, or a second father, I need….”
“A friend.” It was Aric’s turn to finish her sentence.
“Growing up, guys like Jonas Balkar, never gave me a second look, if they ever looked at all. I never went to prom, or had a boyfriend, Aric, I’ve never been kissed, I’ve never….been with…a man. Boys would look at me….and see my red skin, and my impeccable Sith bone structure, they would see the enemy” She took a long drink from her beer, thankful for her red skin hiding her blush. “Want to know why I was top of my class at the academy? I had to prove myself every day, to the other cadets, my instructors, prove that I belonged there, because I sure as hell didn’t look like I belonged there.”
“So when a handsome SIS agent flirted with me, told me I was pretty….Asked me out. I said yes, I didn’t care if it would have never turned into anything serious. I was happy for the attention. He’s the first man to have ever called me pretty outside of my father.” She turned away from him then. “And you go and call him, and chase him off.”
She heard Aric take another drink and put his bottle down.
“Jonas was wrong” Aric spoke to the back of her head, she reminded him of the sunset, breath taking, the same colours, a cool wind picked up and tussled her short bob, revealing ridges on the back of her neck. “You’re not pretty” He reached out and took her arm, turned her to face him, saw the hurt in her eyes at what she thought he was saying, “You’re beautiful, stunning. And all those boys from your past are idiots, if all Jonas saw was pretty he’s an idiot too, because you are so much more than that.”
Mitka looked at Aric Jorgan, his hand was still on her arm, soft, almost like velvet, not at all what she thought his touch would feel like. She had never thought of Aric like this, but the electricity was undeniable. Her heart beat fast, he leaned down and his hand rode up her arm to cup her face, his thumb caressed the ridge on her cheek, and then he kissed her. His lips were soft, but insistent, there was passion there, but he held back, wrapped his other arm around her waist, held her lips captive for a moment longer. Mitka was dazed, her knees weak, her eyes closed, she bit her lower lip, still tasting him there. He waited until she opend her eyes again, and was steady on her feet.
“You are the kind of women who should be kissed, often, by a man who knows how.” His voice was low, husky.
He left her on the balcony, her fingers came up and touched her lips again, she looked back up at the sky, getting darker, the second sun dipped below the horizon. It was Mitka’s 23rd birthday.
Force of Wills
Force of Wills: The Ties that Bind