SHE’S SO BUSY staring at the bacta plastered to her shoulder , wondering if the thing from ‘new york’ will SCAR, that she’s not paying attention to the SYMPHONY of emotion flickering through his eyes, across his face. normally she’s so attuned to han’s moods she can feel them like lightning across her own skin, but here, she’s –––– distracted. certainly not the first time she’s been hurt, and definitely not the last, but still, it’s unnerving and if it leaves a scar, she’ll be PISSED. she looks at the green above her head —— mistletoe —— , briefly and then there he is, soft lips and soft skin and callouses on his fingertips as they brush on the skin of her cheek. with a tender violence only leia is capable of, her fingertips start curling and gripping tightly into his hair. she might be holding on too hard; she’s not concerned about that right now, and she doesn’t think he is either. still, as if in contrast, her other hand is gentle on his neck, keeping her balance on him. leia pulls back a moment later, brushing a thumb against his cheekbone, a soft little lazy SMIRK spreading along the curve of her mouth. “—- what was that for ??” her grin widens. she knows DAMN WELL. han must really loved this planet’s traditions, that’s all.

It was laughable – the way they orbited one another. The gravity of her snark luring the smuggler in much like a siren call. ( Perhaps they were collision course no one could have planned, really. Waiting to implode on impact ). Or at least until the squabbles got too severe and he became a potential flight-risk ( as soon as he got over that slight hiccup ) as a means of closing an argument… All he knew was the stars, calculations of hyper travel, and the amount of time he could risk the jump to lightspeed in comparison to the speed of an imperial tie-fighter. But the fear of their outcome it doesn’t stop him from leaning into the warmth of her eyes, the impossible mystery to them. His smile stretched, in all of it’s sarcastic, lopsided glory, understanding her deflection once again, “Depends on your point of perspective then, sweetheart.” His brow flicking upwards in a playful manner. His voice drawing out his own term of endearment for the Rebel General. The simple wash of happiness her presence brought was too addicting for him now. His eyes fall to hers, “It’s nice to be reminded every once in a while. Not that you could manage that.” Han teases with ease. Because as insensitive and in denial as Leia could be at times, he strangely knew exactly where he stood. “Admit it, you missed me.” He pushes once again. Like he said, it was nice to hear every once in a while. 

SHE'S NOT AN IDIOT. she knows that he will leave her, someday, when he no longer needs the attention and the chase she provided him. he was an adventure seeker, a golden hearted swashbuckler and he couldn't be entertained for too long on what she's selling, or, rather, what she's hiding from. she sometimes can only figure that he's stuck around this long to say he has, in fact, beaten the princess of alderaan, beaten the leader of the rebellion. his eyes were the same color as the sea in a postcard someone sends you when they love you, but not enough to stay. she's knows they won't last, can't last, but yet, she still finds herself leaning into him. leia needs the game almost as much as he does. she bites down on her bottom lip, big, doe eyes staring up at him. she has to give him something, especially for all the trouble she dishes out. she has to stand on her toes to reach even his shoulder, brings her lips closer to his ear, petite fingers splayed out on his chest and she whispers. "--- why don't you find out, hotshot ?? "

LEIA ORGANA - SKYWALKER   ///  moodboard 1 

This was one of the rare occasions for the smuggler. Where he found himself drifting off, adapting to this foreign environment; the allure of a temperamental princess. One that he daringly could call his as he was her. They were playing a dangerous game, an addicting one that he oddly keeps … Relying on.  Something that, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t quite ignore either. He hadn’t needed anybody ( Well, besides Chewie ), he only had been counting on himself for as long as he could remember. Then… She happened. A rescue that had led to her rescuing him, in more ways than he’d like to admit. That he can’t help the corners of his mouth pulling into a soft smile, his thumb caressing her cheek. Indulging her to an eye roll of his own, “Was it also Luke that came up with the loving nickname blaster brain, then?” Han teases, “Don’t get your braids all inna’ knot, I’m only sayin’ give credit where credit is due, your highnessness.” The smuggler chuckles, despite himself. But he slowly pulls himself away from her, before he gets too lost. Too caught up that he doesn’t get to completely enjoy her presence. Her wit and charm. He doesn’t want to miss her. “Wow, really know how to flatter a guy.”

HAN WAS AN indulgence she swore to herself would never happen. not to her, she didn't she want to be like everyone else with their fickle dates and partners and broken hearts. leia didn't have time for this, she had a very important duty to attend to. princesses were supposed to think of everyone else first before themselves, but she can't deny the way she feels when he looks at her for a second too long or the way his thumb is now stroking down her lily pink cheek. "--- i believe you're deluding yourself. the last thing i would call that nickname is loving." she lies. it is, maybe when she first met him, it was an insult but the cadence she now gives it has a secret, sweeter meaning. it's no wonder her feelings for him have changed. the man she's looking at is not the same one when she first encountered him. he's flawlessly moronic, in the way that can only now be heartfelt and not screaming incompetence to her anymore. the loss of his touch snaps her from her own delusion, back into the present reality. "--- i highly doubt you need me to flatter you, captain solo. you're very good at doing that all on your own."

There’s something about the way she carries herself ( Vulnerable? Certainly not ).  She’s far too competitive, far too full of spirit and snark. She is, in a word, persistent. A shared trait that dissolved into months of bickering, the crossfire they somehow always find themselves in. But she strangely made him whole — Or rather, as a whole as a person like him could be; as whole as someone damaged and nonredeemable could manage to be. Maybe, that’s what made them work. Two individuals floating through the universe, forever destined for doom, until they met one another. Her voice was smooth, swift, nearly booming in the silence of the room… He smirks wholeheartedly, knowing she would find him insufferable and irresistible all at once. “Course ya are, princess,” Han merely chuckles to her obvious deflection. “Luke or you?” He questions back, leaning into her. His calloused fingertips beginning at the top of her head, enjoying the silky brunette locks slipping through his carded fingers. Brushing them behind her ear when she, in turn, questions him. Han’s smirk beams now, “A bit of here and there,” The smuggler pauses, “Why? You miss me?”

IT'S THE SMIRK that gets her. makes her tough demeanor fall, her doe eyes stare up into those steely blue ones, his eyes a shade matching that of an unwashed pearl still blanketed within the mouth of an oyster. she doesn't really know what love is, but she figures it must be the way her heart speeds up when his hands comb through her chocolate tresses, and the fond irritation she feels when he calls her ' princess '. her subtle eye roll takes effect, but, nonetheless she leans into his caressing touch anyway. they are stolen moments and hushed fondness. “--- it was luke. you know how attached he gets.” it was more than a task to have a romance during a war, each moment was a risk but there seems to be no real threat here, yet, so she figures she can indulge herself just a bit. not that she wasn't going to make him work for it, though. "--- sure, i missed you, if that helps you sleep at night."