more than that. the jedi teach “ letting go ” as a cure for disease, but there is no expiry on anger. they shrug off emotion, abstain from true acceptance, but rage doesn't lie. osha fought with it in the ruins of her family. her aftermath revived.
he studies her. things she doesn't say. his body's its own study under the cave lip, all quiet. he doesn't shirk any old habits for this new one that she is. ‘ sorry? for what, osha? ’ the edges of his mouth mismatch the speculation around his eyes. ‘ you shouldn't be. you didn't. ’ but this is what the jedi taught her. fear what her master feared, until it came back to kill him.
his lips hold an exhale. he reaches — stepping — to gather her hands, and hold their textures in his palms. he has things for this; batuu cream and cloth wraps; mae opened her own wounds, too — though her anxieties were always more like fear. he doesn't blame her. it was his idea.
‘ it can only get to you if you're trying to get away. ’