OSHA knew it was wrong, shame washing over her like a scorching waterfall blinding her sight. She felt guilty, the images of her friends laying, rotting in the ground of an uncanny forest she stepped foot into weeks ago. She saw their faces, still, pale and shattered. Like a marble statue, someone shoved from a desk to the ground, leaving it there cracked open. That someone was now drawing circles on her shoulder, and she was a bystanding accomplice.
QIMIR'S touch was gentle and tender. No signs of the hostile and dangerous man OSHA witnessed on Khofar. She felt disgusted with herself. Disguted with QIMIR. Disgusted by his touch. But no matter how many intrusive thoughts visited her and how many times, she heard the cry of her Master Sol in her head, QIMIR's touch erased all doubt, and she found herself clinging for more.
Whenever she felt his touch or felt his eyes set on her face, her heart slowed down, and she felt warm. Like a fireplace in front of her, warming her, his touch like the blanket that wrapped around her. Sometimes, it overwhelmed her, the warmth scarring her skin, but no matter the scars, she always returned. She was cold for far too long. The fire kept her mind at ease.
As OSHA let herself relax in QIMIR'S embrace, her head resting against his chest, she wondered about the future. How will they come out of this. What will happen when the others find out. Will he leave her, abandoning her in the cold. Or will she leave him, the warmth being too much for her, after being used to the cold for so long.
She was doubtful, but QIMIR'S touch washed her thoughts away.. She thought back of the way his lips felt on her neck and the way they left wet marks along the line of her spine. The way his hands held her gently, his eyes scanning for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. He never found any. After years of uncertainty and unease, she felt confident and secure. Finding herself drowning in QIMIR'S eyes, letting herself fall for she knew he'd catch her.
She reminisced about his fingers. How they danced on her skin, caressing and adoring every scar. How his fingers merged with hers as he worshipped her with his tongue. How his thoughts melted with hers, amplifying the pleasure and comfort.
During her Jedi days, OSHA never let anyone take a look into her head. Scared they might find her corrupted and rotten. But QIMIR only saw a blooming garden and growing flowers. She let him inside, and he always kept the doors open if she changed her mind. She never did.
His mind felt like a lost piece of puzzle falling into a place. Her edges already bent, and scratched after trying to find herself in puzzles that didn't fit. He loved every curve, every scratch. Every thought. His scars matched her wounds, slowly healing as they touched each other.
She thought of the way he let her guide him, teaching him about her likes and dislkes. He learnt quickly. He enjoyed teasing her with his thoughts while his fingers teased her between her legs. How his eyes bore so deep inside of hers, he wanted to see her every reaction, every flicker of her eyes. He wanted to give her the pleasure she never received, wanting to worship her and give himself away.
OSHA couldn't forget how they swallowed each other's moans, breathing each other's air. The way he held her so close, their hearts could touch. His arms gripping her waist, his hips meeting with hers. How she whispered his name into his mouth and how he returned the favour with crying out hers. VEROSHA.
She never wanted to leave. She never wanted his touch to disappear. She wanted him to take her every night at every sundown. She wanted to worship his scars with her every breath and give him all she could offer.
The Jedi were her family. But she never felt at home. QIMIR'S arms taught her what it feels to be safe, seen, and understood. And she was willing to fight anyone who would dare to split them apart.
