OKay babu, I wouldn't miss an opportunity to send you a prompt :D soo letsss seeee..... which of my thousands of ships.... How about Skysolo? You set the mood, maybe some fluff tho. Thank you love :)
The stars around them blurred to streaks of light, until they were suspended in a rain of comets and shooting stars.
“We’re good.” Han said, and laughed.
He was happy.
(But he shouldn’t be
The higher the altitude, the harder the fall)
It was not the happiness of a good laugh, one that faded away after the joke or silly story ended. It was the kind of happy that felt pure, somehow, seeded into one’s heart and glowing like a swallowed sun. It was the kind of happy that smoothed time into still frames.
He would remember, afterwards, perfect snapshots of Luke’s face, and his hands, and the sound of his laughter mingling with his own. He would remember the spike of thrill in his blood, and the need to kiss.
He shouldn’t have.
(If this love would kill him,
He would gladly tie the noose around his own neck)
It was easy, in that moment, to forget why they were leaving so fast the stars blurred around them. Han pulled Luke in, and kissed him, kissed him over and over again, lips painting his skin with all the words he would not— could not— say out loud.
All too soon, the rush of stars came to a stop.
(But Luke’s hands held his own
And he could not tie the knot.)
Han’s arms fell away from Luke as the spaceship pulled into a stop.
Wind met them outside, and Han’s smile shook along with his voice, but he forced himself to laugh, to clasp Luke’s hand, to say goodbye. And Luke did not look back, as he walked away.
I’ll miss you forever.
(What good did it do, to have them both alive,
Yet separated?
At least they would have been together,
If they had stayed to die.)
Stars that blur like tears do.
