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11.09.2012 , 07:49 AM |
Tools of the Trade
Miriah and Corso, continued
Minor spoiler for companion conversation
Miriah strode over to the table, her gaze never leaving those warm, brown eyes. He kept the contact, and when she sat, he moved a fraction closer to her. Hmm, she thought, either he’s had a few already or Mags did something to him, some woo woo Jedi stuff. “Mags already gone?” she asked him, and he hesitated a second before answering.
“She’s in a briefing, said she’d catch you in the morning before we left,” he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. She smiled, her trademark brilliant smile, attempting to distract him from his intent study of her face, but he still held the eye contact. She looked away, suddenly nervous, and ordered drinks.
She’s afraid no one ever sees the real Miriah, Magdalane had told him. She had this whole hardened persona, this front, that she shows the world. That’s not who she really is, and if you stay contstant, show her that she can’t fool you, you’ll win her.
Corso recalled those words now, as he saw Miriah shift into her persona after the brief moment of real. They settled in, sipping their drinks, Corso telling her about seeing Tython and all the Jedi for the first time.
She studied his face, his movements. Confident, relaxed, sure of what he’s doing and going after, she mused. We’ll see, she thought, as their food arrived. They ate in companionable silence, aware of each other but not at a point where either of them were uncomfortable. After they’d eaten and refilled their drinks, Miriah sat back in the booth and looked around, thinking she’d catch someone’s eye to flirt with. Corso reached out and grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice pitched low, his desire evident in his tone. “Don’t hide, Cap’n. Stay here, with me.” She turned her eyes to his slowly, trying to reason with the sudden desire to touch his face. Wanting him was never the problem, she thought, it’s the “more” he wants that’s the issue. Remember that, she told herself, but his touch was searing her skin, muddling her thoughts. She realized he’d moved closer to her, and when she finally lifted her eyes to his, the contact briefly stunned her.
“I don’t know how, Corso, don’t you get that? I know what you want, but I don’t know how!” She tried to pull away, to run back to the ship, but she couldn’t move, held by his eyes.
“I know,” he told her, lifting the wrist he still held and kissing her hand. “We’re going to learn, together.”
Magdalane saw them from the upper deck, and smiled.
Love is the strongest magic of them all.