Sykho and Ti’ad, just doing some… quality control 😏
Gotta make sure the goods they’re smuggling are actually worth the trouble lol.
Sykho & Ti‘ad are my Star Wars OCs - (Character sheets | Spice and Ruin)
Written scene under the cut 🔽
The place was dim and smoky, tucked away at the edge of a forgotten settlement. One of those places where names didn’t matter and credits could buy silence.
Red light bled from overhead strips, casting long shadows across broken furniture and cracked floors. In one of the quieter booths, nestled beneath a flickering lamp and half-curtained by smoke, Sykho and Ti‘ad sat close together on a padded bench that had seen better years.
A hookah sat between them, its long, curling hose draped lazily across Ti’ad’s lap. The bowl glowed faintly, filled with sweet, resinous spice that burned slow and deep. She exhaled a smooth trail of reddish smoke, eyes half-lidded, and passed the mouthpiece back to Sykho with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
He took it without a word, his fingers brushing hers just long enough to feel intentional. He was leaned back, broad shoulders relaxed, tunic half unbuttoned to let the heat escape. His dark gaze was hazy, but it lingered on her, as it always did. Ti’ad could feel it even without looking.
“You’re staring again,” she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder. Her voice was low, softened by the spice and the warm buzz in her blood.
Sykho didn’t deny it. He took a slow pull from the pipe, let the smoke drift from his lips before replying, “So what if I am?”
She huffed a quiet laugh, reached up and brushed a bit of ash off his sleeve. “You get all soft when you’re high.”
His response was a low chuckle, quiet enough that only she could hear it beneath the hum of music and murmuring voices. “Only with you.”
A beat passed. The music blurred into the background, some off-world tune with a humming string instrument and deep, echoing percussion. Ti’ad watched the smoke spiral upward and leaned closer into his warmth, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the hose.
“You remember the first time we did this?” she asked after a moment, voice almost lost in the haze.
“Yeah.” He glanced at her. “You coughed your lungs out.”
“I did not.” She nudged him with her elbow. “That blend was just… stronger than expected. Not exactly beginner-friendly.”
“You nearly fell off the stool trying to act like you’d done it before.”
Ti’ad clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, though a smile was tugging at her lips. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Sykho smiled - an honest, lopsided smile and set the mouthpiece aside. He turned his head slightly, his forehead brushing against hers, the space between them evaporating like the last threads of smoke curling in the air. Their breaths mingled, warm, spiced, electric.
“Good thing I love you too,” he murmured.
Then he kissed her. His mouth found hers with quiet urgency, tasting of heat and spice and something deeper. Her fingers curled instinctively in the fabric at his side, grounding herself as the moment threatened to consume them both. (…)
