Atton awoke to the dimmed blue lights of a small medbay. The first thing he noticed was the headache that was ripping his skull in two. He sat up with a wince, pushing through the pain, if only to get a grasp of whether there was any immediate danger to him. No one there, not even some pretty bedside nurse to fret over his injuries. Not that he'd be able to put up much of a fight in his current state. His whole body wracked with a dull pain and he was plagued by a sickening nausea that threatened to spill at any given moment. He lay back down again with a groan and closed his eyes, the sound of a faint beeping echoing throughout the room.
Images flashed throughout his head. Malachor, a planet of death. The Sith, waiting for them, silent and watching. Kreia, dressed in black, her face always hidden behind the cowl — they'd fought her, one by one, but not Atton — Atton had run, like he always did, a coward, a piece of dirt who abandoned his friends and the woman he loved — but then he'd come face to face with the broken man, the feeling of his flesh being torn, blood spilling from a wound, his own cries of agony as a lightsaber burned deep, deep, deep into his skin, he deserved it like the worthless mistake he was.
He leaned over the side of the bed and retched onto the medbay floor. His stomach heaved up whatever sorry remnants of food remained in it. His vision was fuzzy, not quite right. The blue light offered some strange form of comfort. As the vomit splashed down onto the ground, his throat and nose burned, and his fingers gripped to the side of the bed to steady himself, Atton couldn't help but laugh at the thought of how pathetic he must look right now. If Meetra could see him...
Meetra... She'd survived, hadn't she?
He collapsed back down on the bed and stared ahead, trying to remember her, trying to remember what had happened. But it was like his memory had been wiped. Nothing else was coming to mind. Regaining consciousness, it also seemed, was making his pain even worse. The nausea had subsided but had just made him feel weak. "Stupid body," he muttered under his breath, voice croakier than he'd expected.
Then, the door opened. He panicked instinctively, a fear response to not knowing what was waiting for him behind that door. He jumped backwards and pressed himself against the wall in what little time he had. Useless, perhaps, but it would've looked stupider if he'd sat there gawking expectantly at the person come to kill him. He felt like he was going to throw up again. What if it was Kreia, or Sion, come to finish him off? What if they'd taken him back here only to make him suffer for longer? What if his last moments would be spent in a pathetic little medbay, afraid, mouth tasting of his own vomit?
"You're awake," said the droid standing there. It was a droid, of course, just a droid. Its vision trailed down. "And you've... vomited onto the floor. Hmm." It paused for a moment. "Let me go fetch a cleaning droid." Just like that, before Atton could even ask the droid its name, it was gone, and the door shut again.
What now concerned Atton was the fact he'd noticed his depth perception was... not normal. He'd noticed it before, of course, but now that consciousness had more or less returned to him it was getting harder to pass it off as just coming to. What was most concerning of all was that one eye felt like it wasn't there. He couldn't see anything, not even black, just... Nothing.
Atton was nothing if not a coward, but something about not having a left eye anymore was enough to push past that fear. He raised his hand, slowly, fearful that touching it too soon would be wrong. His hand reached the socket where his eye had once been, but what was there instead was a bandage. He felt around the area, and protruding out from the bandage was what felt like a deep, long scar.
That settled it, then, didn't it? His left eye was gone. What would he do now? A part of him wanted to feel like he was incomplete, ugly, a monster no longer whole. But he didn't feel that way at all. Sad, of course, because it was his eye after all and he didn't really like the idea of only having one instead of two. But a small part of him took pleasure in knowing that his inside would finally match his outside — ugly, ugly, ugly.
His head rolled to the side. What welcomed him was his skin punctured by various tubes and wires, each of them pumping liquids from some kind of machine into his body. What was more concerning were the bruises that littered his arm. Worried, he pulled the sheet away and glanced down at the rest of his body. A sick cry of shock escaped him at the sight.
Covered in cuts and grazes, his skin was decorated in a layer of purple and blue that threatened to turn yellow soon. More disconcerting was the large gash that wrapped itself along his stomach, like a knife had slunk itself into his skin. It had been stitched but would take a long time to heal, and no doubt would leave a scar in its wake. He touched it, gently, fumbling his fingers along the stitches. It was sensitive to the touch, not exactly painful, but unpleasant all the same.
A sudden wave of anger washed over him. Why hadn't they let him die? Just left him there on Malachor to rot like he deserved? Meetra wasn't there, she'd probably forgotten about him already. He didn't want to live like this, without her, like some pathetic war-time veteran who could never move on because every time they looked in the mirror their own face and their own body reminded them of what they had seen--
He ripped the tubes out of his arm, throwing them to the ground with all his strength, and heaved himself out of the bed. He couldn't stay there in that tiny room any longer. He'd go insane. In the corner of the room he spied his old clothes, bloodied and torn from his time spent in them, but he threw them on regardless.
Atton left that room fuelled only by anger and pain. A little voice in the back of his head warned him about that, but he ignored her. It wasn't really her, after all, just a remnant, a memory. He didn't even know where he was going. People paid him no attention, if not giving him the occasional glance of confusion. He probably looked very out of place, limping along in bloodied clothes and skin decorated with wounds.
It seemed to be some kind of hospital, on a space station or maybe on Telos or Onderon... Wherever it was, he'd never seen it before. He'd like to have been able to say that didn't bother him at all, but of course it did — he hated not knowing where he was, especially given the state he was in. For all he knew, these people were Sith agents and every step he took just led him further and further into his doom. But he tried not to think of that.
And then, Atton saw her.
She was talking to someone, an alien who was speaking their native tongue, not that it ever seemed to matter. She was alive, she had waited for him. And she was beautiful; like the first rays of sunlight after a cold and dark night, like the stars that shone against the black of space. His breath left his body. He reached out to her, all he could do was stare. He was about to cry. It felt like he had just seen her for the first time all over again. "Meetra," he managed to choke out.
Before he could go to her, his legs suddenly decided now would be a great time to give out from underneath him. It was as though the sight of her had shocked him so much his body could no longer cope. Atton tried to struggle, but he was already weak and the darkness shifting over his vision was making him feel even weaker. Blackness greeted him, and he embraced its rest with open arms. In the darkness, he saw her face, and felt her love.
Atton woke up with yet another crippling headache and an immediate attitude to match. The dim light of the medbay no longer offered a comfort, but irritated him because it reminded him of the fact that he was still stuck in the godforsaken place. He sat up, about to yell for somebody or some droid to come help him out of the room, but stopped immediately once he saw who was in there with him.
She was there... Meetra. Asleep, and looking half-dead, but it was her.
Looking at her felt the same way it did watching a wave wash over the shore; calming and breathtaking, but always that small fear of what lay beyond the foam and the shallows, waiting unseen. He didn't want to wake her, so instead he watched her with patient eyes as she breathed in and out deeply, her head and neck crooked as they lay against her shoulder. It seemed the Jedi did not always have perfect posture.
Suddenly the door opened. Atton jumped away, not realising how close he'd gotten to Meetra's sleeping form. In came none other than a panicked looking Mira, only calming down once her eyes rested on Meetra. She breathed a sigh of relief, clutching a hand to her chest as she rested against the wall.
It seemed she hadn't even noticed Atton. He cleared his throat to get her attention. She turned her head and grinned happily in recognition.
"You're awake," she said. "And looking terrible as always."
"Aw Mira, you always know exactly what to say." Truth be told, her words hurt him a little more than usual. He didn't want to see the state he was in. He was afraid of it to be honest, afraid of her seeing what was left of him.
"Seriously though, you don't look good. I know Sion was far from gentle with you, but geez... I hope you're feeling better than you look."
Atton felt like he was about to burst into tears. But he repressed that, like he always did. "Unfortunately I can't really say that I am. I threw up earlier and now it feels like my head is about to implode."
Mira pursed her lips. "Mical said he wanted to take a look at you when you woke up. Let me go get him."
"No-!" Atton exclaimed, reaching out as though he could stop Mira. He instantly regretted raising his voice, fearful of waking up Meetra. Slowly he turned to her. He didn't know what he was so afraid of. Maybe her seeing him like this. Or maybe he was just terrified of how much she had consumed him. Thankfully, she was still sleeping soundly.
Mira perked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you acting afraid around Meetra?"
"Huh?" Damn it, she'd seen through it. "I'm not afraid of Meetra."
"This is ridiculous. You just risked your life to save her and now you don't want to talk to her? What, worried you're not gonna be able to control yourself?"
Her teasing attitude didn't gel with him at the moment. He said nothing and the two remained in silence, both of them looking over at Meetra as her chest rose and fell. It was times like this, when nothing was happening at all, that Atton realised just how perfectly she had wrapped herself around every inch of his mind and body.
Mira's solemn voice broke the silence. "She's leaving."
"She's leaving. That's why I came in here so panicky, I was looking for her. We all thought she'd left already."
He could practically feel his heart breaking. "What? Why? Why would she want to leave? She just defeated Kreia... She saved us.The Sith are gone. I don't understand."
"Maybe that has something to do with it. You know Kreia and her were bonded."
He remembered watching Meetra slay Kreia. The pain in Meetra's eyes, the turmoil burning within her, the ache she felt when the old woman had taken her last breath. She had never really appreciated Kreia's comments at the best of times, found her patronising and had a particular distaste for her views on morality. But they'd forged a bond, one that made Atton's head hurt even more when he tried to think about it. He didn't really understand it, but sometimes the most important things couldn't be understood. Especially not by people like him.
Mira looked up at him with eyes as almost as sad as he felt. "None of us want her to leave, Atton. She's important to all of us," she said. "We all love her."
Atton said nothing. He knew that was true. They all loved Meetra. It was impossible not to fall for her smiles and her words and her overwhelming kindness. And it was selfish to think that he loved her more than the others did, that their bond with each other meant more than any of their's, but he couldn't help it. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met before.
"When does she want to leave?"
"I don't know... Some time soon. There's something she needs to do alone, she says, but what it is I have no idea. She won't tell us anything. I think she's afraid we'll come with her."
Mira left soon after, offering to get Mical or a doctor for Atton. He refused. He just wanted to be alone with Meetra. But even that wasn't enough to keep him awake for much longer, and sleep embraced him again.
When he awoke for the third time, it was darker than usual. The blue lights were dimmed more than they had been before. Immediately he looked to his side to see whether Meetra was still there, sitting beside his bed. She wasn't.
His thoughts went to her — they always did, sometimes innocent and precocious enough that they swelled his heart and consumed his mind, and sometimes vile, the things he wanted to do to her when they were alone and it was dark and close and warm — but now, his thoughts were fearful. Had she left? Not waited to say goodbye to him? Had he just missed his last chance to ever tell her he loved her?
Tears began to fall from his one remaining eye, the reminder of his permanent injury only making him more heartbroken. He tried to stifle them, each tear reeking of his weakness and cowardice, but it was no use. And so he found himself stuck in the same vicious cycle of self-hatred he'd always been in. He lay back down in bed, ready to collapse and wallow in his misery.
But then, a sudden feeling of defiance crossed him — and it was very sudden indeed, felt like something had forced it upon him. The door opened and he went through it, unsure again where he was going, but eager to get away.
He had to leave. He had to go. He had to find her.
He found the Ebon Hawk instead. Maybe it had been calling to him, something stupid like that. He went inside, finding it unlocked, and made his way to the cockpit where he had spent so many days and nights before. His chair felt welcoming and comforting as he sat in it, a welcome change to the suffocating blue of the medbay.
Atton's life had made it near impossible to get so used to something that he could deem it 'normal', but within the Ebon Hawk he had found some shred of normalcy in his life; a place to sleep, people to talk to, a person to love.
He rested his head against the back of the chair. The dashboard, its buttons alight like a city. He reached out to it. What would happen if he started the engine and just left? What could anyone do? He would leave and he would head out into the stars and he would look for her, his sun in the darkness.
He turned and left. It was far too tempting to just do that on a whim. The old Atton would have without thinking it through, but he didn't want to be the old Atton anymore. He was sick of the way he'd lived his life, pretending he didn't need anyone but himself. It was lonely to live like that.
And there he found her. She was staring intently at the star map, brows furrowed in concentration as she plotted out a route. The hologram stood between them, forming the invisible barrier that was always there. Suddenly the hologram died and she looked up, their eyes finally meeting.
Atton had no idea how long they stared into each other's eyes. It felt like he had crossed oceans to meet her, and now he had found her and his heart and body wanted nothing more than to hold her and kiss her and collapse into her soul, be absorbed by her light utterly and totally.
"I thought you'd left," his body said of its own accord. He certainly hadn't thought the words through.
Meetra smiled despondently, breaking eye contact. He suddenly let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding in. "No," she replied softly as she turned around and went down one of the corridors. "Not yet."
Atton followed after her. "Why are you leaving?" His voice was tinted in anger, because truth be told he did feel betrayed.
She said nothing, just kept walking, inviting him to follow her. He did so. She had stopped in the doorway to the bunkroom she often trained in, like a force was stopping her from going any further.
Atton stood beside her, staring into the room. It was empty, nothing remaining inside but memories of an easier time. He remembered when he would stand in the doorway, watching silently with lovelorn eyes as she trained or meditated.
"I can't tell you why I'm leaving, Atton. I can't tell anyone. But most of all I can't tell you."
He scowled. "Why not?"
"Because I know you'll want to come with me. And you can't."
He didn't know what to say to that. So he said nothing. The silence, however, hurt him just as much as an argument would have.
"Mical confessed to me earlier today," she said, still not taking her eyes off the room.
Atton couldn't help the pang of jealousy that rose within him at the sound of that Disciple's name. Mical was perfect for Meetra. Handsome, clean, a gentleman. Something he could never be. As always, he played these feelings off nonchalantly. "Can't say that surprises me. He was always looking at you like a lost puppy. I'm glad he confessed to you, actually. At least that puts an end to it."
Meetra offered a small smile in response. It seemed that was all she could muster for the time being.
He swallowed. "You didn't, uh... I mean, what did you tell him?"
She turned to him now, and once again he felt his heart stop a little when she did. "I told him that he would always be in my heart and my thoughts. And that I loved him too," she paused, searching his eyes. "But not as he loved me."
"Oh," Atton replied, testing the waters. Never had words brought such relief to his heart. "I thought you liked him."
She smiled. "Like a brother, or a dear friend. He's sweet and all, and I like his company. But he looks up to me as a mentor so the power dynamics would be completely skewed. I could never see him as something more."
"Oh, come on. Don't all girls dream of being swept off their feet by a charming prince?"
"Not all girls. Some girls like snarky smugglers with a dark past who they have to rescue from a mining facility full of corrupted droids."
His heart skipped a beat. "Don't forget the Sith Lords."
"Oh right! Gee I spend a lot of time saving your arse, Rand."
How badly he wanted to kiss her. "Then let me return the favour," he said, reaching out to hold her hand. Her skin was soft and warm. "Let me come with you."
She frowned and turned away, pulling her hand from out of his grasp. He felt empty without it. That small happiness between them was broken. "You can't come with me. You just can't."
It was like she was crushing his heart under her foot. "Why? Why not? You don't want me there, is that it?"
Meetra looked up at him with furious eyes, burning with hurt. Immediately he regretted what he'd said. "Don't say that," she spat. "It's not all about you, OK? You think I want to do this by myself? Yeah, I just woke up today and thought I'd cast myself off into the unknown with only a droid by my side. You think I'm abandoning everyone I love for fun? You think I want to abandon you?"
Her words were vicious but they came from a place of pain. He stared into the eyes that had now begun to form tears. She quickly wiped them away, ashamed, and stared down at her feet. "It's my fault all this happened. I have to fix what I've done."
"How is it your fault?" he whispered, as gently as he had ever spoken. "How is any of what happened your fault?"
She looked up at him again, tears still falling. He wanted so badly to hold her and kiss them away. "People have always felt strongly about me. I have some kind of effect on people. They either hate or love me, and those who love me I form bonds with. This bond, it... It makes them vulnerable to my words, they do things under my leadership. It puts them in danger. I put them in danger. I can't risk that anymore. I don't want anyone to be hurt because of me."
She brought her hand up to cup the left side of his face, staring solemnly at the bandage where his left eye used to be. "Just look at what they did to you." She bit her lip. "Look at what I did to you."
He brought a hand up to where hers rested on his cheek, and held it. "Meetra..." he began. "This isn't your fault."
"Yes it is,"
"No, it's not. I fought Sion because I wanted to, not because you made me. And even if I felt that way because of the bond we have, it's not like that bond is unnatural... The Force, it- it's bringing us together. If this happened because Force wanted this between us, then so be it."
She met his gaze, and he leaned in closer to her, searching her eyes. "I'd do it all over again, Meetra." Atton brought his other hand to rest at the back of her head. "I'd do it a thousand times over if it meant I could be with you."
She pursed her lips, walking away from him. "You're only saying that because the bond is making you feel that way." She wandered into the bunk room and sat down on one of the beds — his bed, no less. "I can't take you with me. It wouldn't be fair, to steal your life away from you like that."
He could feel the anger coursing through him again. Why didn't she get it? Why couldn't she understand? He didn't care if his love for her was made all the more powerful because of some stupid Force bond. It didn't change the way he felt. And he knew, even without her control of the Force, that he would've loved Meetra. It wasn't the Force making him feel this way; it was her.
"Can't you see, Meetra?" he asked. She looked up at him, brows furrowed. "In trying to do good for everyone, you've become the most selfish of all."
She said nothing, but looked up from her feet to where he stood. She scowled at his words, obvious hurt crossing her face. For a moment he regretted his words. But she needed to hear it. She needed to hear the truth from someone who wasn't afraid to say it.
"Yes, you are. You act like leaving is so hard for you... Well what about us? What about the people you're leaving behind? You come into our lives, change us, make us feel things we've never felt before. Make us listen to your goody-two-shoes Jedi philosophy. We open our hearts for you, we sacrifice ourselves for you, and then like that you just leave?! Maybe you think you're doing us a favour by leaving. But I think you're just afraid."
"Yeah, that's right, afraid!"
She stood up, defiant, fists clenched. "I'm doing this to protect you, you arse!" she exclaimed, pointing at him as tears pricked her eyes. "I'm not afraid!"
Atton walked over to her, so that they stood mere centimetres apart. "You are afraid, Meetra. Even though you try to hide it, I know you are. I can hear it in your voice whenever you talk to people you care about, I can feel it when you stand beside me, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me." He paused, not realising how impassioned he had become. "You're frightened because of the pain you've caused. I know you're scared of the guilt that's inside you." He took her hand in his, and pressed it to his chest. "You can't be afraid anymore."
She pressed a hand to her face, breath shaky as she breathed in. "How can I not be, after all I've done?"
"Because we grow past our mistakes. We learn," he said. She looked up at him now, eyes always full of light, even when she was like this. His heart couldn't help but flutter. "You and I aren't perfect, I know that, so do you. But if we allow what we've done to define us, we might as well just give up now." He brought a hand to cup her face. "You don't have to be frightened of love."
She closed her eyes and spoke, voice only a faint whisper. "And what if that love takes your life?"
A sad smile broke across Atton's face. "You are my life, Meetra. If you leave... I have nothing left."
Unable to control himself any longer, he pressed his lips against hers in a swift motion. She let out a shocked moan before kissing back, opening her mouth for his tongue. Her hands reached around his neck and brought him down to her. He snaked his arms around her waist and pushed her gently against the wall, hands slithering into her shirt and dancing across her skin.
He broke away only for breath. "I'm sorry," he said, quickly bringing his lips to her neck where he placed kisses along her tender flesh. She whined in pleasure.
"Don't be sorry," she said, voice a throaty whisper as her fingers curled themselves around his hair. "Don't ever be sorry."
He smiled into her skin. She brought her hands down to his chest and tore off his jacket, hands finding the toned skin beneath. She felt cold, but not uncomfortably so, more like a cold splash of water to wake you up in the morning.
"Oh, Atton," she gasped. For a moment he thought she was in awe at the impressive sight in front of her, but that thought stopped with a sharp breath in. He looked down. Her hands had found his wounds, and now trailed along the lesions that peppered his skin. "I'm so sorry..."
"Don't be," he told her, enoying the feeling of her skin on his. "At least it gives me a few stories to tell. Besides, I heard the other guy came off much worse than I did."
He pulled her along to his bunk, and threw her down on the mattress. She stared up at him with rosey cheeks, chest heaving up and down, exposed skin where he had pulled on her shirt. How long had he thought about this exact moment? There she was, the most beautiful person he'd ever met, lying down in front of him, waiting for his touch — only his. Had it been when they just met, he would have very much liked to have fucked her right then and there. But now, he wanted to savour the moment he'd waited so long for.
He went to throw his shirt to the floor, but Meetra stopped him. "No," she said, sitting up and pressing herself up against where he sat. "I want to do it." He said nothing, watching her fingers dance over to his skin. Painfully slowly she began to unbutton his shirt, each touch making his pants tighter. He had to bite his lip to relieve some of the pressure.
She finally peeled it off of him, dropping it onto the floor, and then brought her hands to his chest, once more feeling along the scars that painted his skin. "I've always loved your scars," she said. "I've always wanted to touch them..." She was so gentle that not even the fresh wounds hurt. He winced when her fingers crossed them, not from pain but from sensitivity. If anything it just enhanced his pleasure.
"Meetra, you're killing me," he moaned, her touch was driving him insane. "Let me touch you, please."
She smiled, moving in to kiss his lips. "You don't have to ask," she replied. "Undress me."
He tried to be as slow as her, but it was hard. Every inch of her skin that he saw only made him more consumed in her. He pulled her shirt off over her head, revealing the bare skin that lay underneath, a precious gift just for him. She blushed and pulled her arms across her chest, shy. She had never been the most outspoken of people, but she had never hidden herself like this.
"Don't hide," he told her, pulling her arms slowly away, "I want to see you."
Biting her lip, she let him withdraw her arms away from her breasts. They were beautiful — soft mounds that begged to be touched — he took them in his hands and kneaded them, playing with the nipples. Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes in ecstasy, pulling him close to her. It shocked him how so little could have such an effect on her, but damn if it didn't get him excited. Had she been dreaming of this too? He took one of her nipples in his mouth and toyed with it, tongue swirling around its mound, the other still in between his fingers.
"Oh, fuck," she moaned breathily, pulling herself onto his lap, rubbing herself against his groin. The tightness was becoming almost unbearable now, and he let out a low groan against her nipple. "Atton," she whispered in his ear. "I want you."
He pulled away from her and pushed her down onto the bed. "Not yet," he told her, "not yet." As she lay there, staring up at him, Atton placed his hands on her stomach and trailed them slowly down to her pants. He pulled them off, throwing them to the floor in a heap. On a usual day she probably would have yelled at him for that, but this wasn't a usual day.
He brought his hand to her underwear, but he only needed to look to see how wet she was. A proud smile crossed his face, and a low chuckle escaped his lips.
"Nothing," he replied, slowly pulling her underwear down her legs. "You're just so wet. I mean, I know I'm good, but I didn't know I was that good."
Another vicious blush took over her, which only served to make Atton's heart swell. "Shut up," she muttered, covering her eyes with her arm. She was even more endearing when she was embarrassed; naked and vulnerable, honest. Had his body not been begging to make love, he would've been quite content with just laying there and holding her.
With her eyes covered, Atton placed his hands on her inner thighs and slowly pulled them apart. She whined in expectation, but didn't remove the arm from her eyes, too shy to watch him as he ate her out. He brought his head to sit between her thighs, kissing them gently before bringing his tongue to lick slowly at her folds. She shivered at the contact. He swept his tongue from top to bottom before sliding it inside. She clamped her thighs around him and tangled her hands in his hair.
"Look at me," he said. She opened her eyes and looked down at him, cheeks coated in a thick blush. They maintained eye contact as he ate her out, and then as he brought a hand up to circle her clit. She tasted strange but good, slightly tangy he supposed, and those heavenly sounds of pleasure leaving her mouth were enough to make him want to keep going forever.
He pulled away soon after, however, earning himself an irritable whine. He chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "I want to be inside you," he whispered in her ear. "So we can come together."
He kneeled on the bunk and quickly took off his pants and underwear. His member sprung out from underneath them, erect and leaking precum. He took it in his grasp and stroked it a few times, spreading the creamy liquid down his cock.
"Do you have a condom?" she asked. He quickly reached into the bedside drawer and pulled one out. "How long has that been there?"
He shrugged, peeling off the wrapper and sliding it on his member. "Well, I always like to be prepared, you see. Good thing we chose my bed."
Meetra smiled as he lay on top of her. Atton kissed her neck, working his way up to her mouth. "Are you ready?" Meetra nodded. Atton grabbed his member and positioned himself to her entrance, then with one smooth motion he slid into her. She gasped at the feeling, his size stretching her walls as her eyes rolled backwards.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, burying his head in her neck. He breathed in her scent, losing himself in the feeling of her warmth and wetness before he slowly began thrusting in and out of her. "You feel so good."
"Atton..." she moaned, wrapping her fingers tightly in his hair.
"You like that?" he asked breathily, bringing a finger down to her clit. "You like that, baby?"
Meetra moaned, each thrust bringing him deeper inside her. "Yes," she said, the only word she could get out. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to make him go deeper and deeper within her. The sound of skin on skin filled the room. It felt like they were the only two people on the planet, the only people left in the universe.
Atton could feel himself starting to lose himself within her, in her touch and vision and in the sweet sounds that left her lips. He brought their lips together in a rough kiss, resting his forehead on hers, pulling in and out of her with all of his strength. It was hard to go so slow after he'd waited so long to bury himself inside of her, but he tried to make himself last as long as he could. He wanted to make sure he gave her all the pleasure she wanted.
"I want to fuck you so bad," he whimpered.
"Then do it," she said, staring into his eyes. "Fuck me."
Those words were all he needed. He sat up and pinned her hands to either side of her head, and picked up the pace. Each thrust shook her whole body, and he watched her breasts move along with the motion. Harder and harder he went, harder and faster. Sinful moans left her lips.
He lifted her hips up from the bed with one hand, allowing him to go even deeper. Meetra gasped at the new position. "Yes, right there!" she screamed. That alone was enough to make him cum. "Fuck, Atton..."
"Say my name, baby," he said. "Scream it out. I want everyone to hear."
"Atton!" She clung to the sheets, gripping for some form of pressure release. He smiled down at Meetra, her face contorted in rapturous ecstacy
Their eyes met then — and she met his smile with lidded but loving eyes. "I love you," he choked out, the words tumbling from his lips before he'd thought them through. "From the first moment, I loved you. Thought you were a dream."
Her smile broadened at his words. "I know," she said breathlessly. "And I love you."
The words made him freeze momentarily in the realisation. It felt like his heart was about to explode. "I love you, fuck I love you," He couldn't help himself any longer. All the words were just pouring from his lips.
"Atton," she began through her moans. "Cum with me. I want us to cum together."
The feeling of her warmth, her tightness around his cock, the sounds of their love-making, even just the thought that this was finally happening; it was getting too much for him. "OK," he replied.
She wrapped her legs around him tighter, inviting him further inside. He thrusted into her a few more times, each time like a new awakening within him. He could feel her legs beginning to shake, and his own end was near. One final push, and then suddenly it was all over. He came, stars filling his vision and waves of pleasure flooding his body. He shut his eyes in ecstacy, collapsing on top of her, just as her own orgasm came with a guttural moan.
Body full with the afterglow of love, he peppered her face with kisses as he slid out of her, throwing the condom away. For a while they just lay there, naked bodies pressed together, listening to the sounds of each other's breathing, his arm slung over her.
"I can't believe we didn't do that sooner," he said. "Do you know how long I wanted to do that for? How long I dreamt about it?"
Meetra laughed. "Well, judging from your mad confessions of love, I'm gonna say since we first met?"
He pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "Even that first night I thought of you."
"Oh shut up," she muttered, blushing.
"I'm serious. I wasn't joking about having a thing for a beautiful Jedi in her underwear interrogating me. Of course, it wasn't all stuff like that. Sometimes I thought about us cooking together, picking flowers, staring out at the stars..."
It grew quiet now. Meetra cupped his face in her hands, stroking it fondly with a content smile on her face. He stared into her eyes like they were the stars in the night sky. "I still want to do that with you," he whispered. Silence engulfed them, before he finally spoke again. "Let me come with you," he said, "I can't let you leave now."
She pursed her lips, looking away sadly. "Atton- I don't know whether we'll ever come back."
He took her hands in his. "Then don't leave me here, forever wondering whether you are. I'd prefer to die with you than never know where you are." She looked up at him again, and suddenly he realised there were tears in both of their eyes. "I can't live without you, Meetra. I'd prefer to die by your side than live alone. You're only light my life has in it... Without you, I'm nothing."
She closed her eyes, and tear rolled down her cheek. He leaned in and kissed it away. She pulled him close and embraced him. "Come with me," she spoke softly into his ear, before kissing him once more. "Come with me."
He smiled broadly into the kiss. "Yes, ma'am," he said, feeling his usual confident self returning. "It's not like I'm doing anything. Besides, if I'm not around to bail you out of trouble, who knows what could happen."
That night they left, leaving all that remained of their lives behind them. It hurt knowing they might never see their friends again, but they both knew they couldn't come along. Meetra had left them letters describing her love for them. Atton got a rather nasty surprise once he'd realised T3-M4 was there for the ride, but truth be told he was glad to hear the robot's sarcastic beeping, even if he never admitted it.
As they sat in the cockpit together, Atton turned to her with a grin. "So where to?" he asked.
Meetra turned to him, a smile on her face and eyes that gleemed with hope. "To the unknown."