#fein001.

location: an unused room of the jedi temple date & time: 1/05, 4:00AM tag: @feinkomo​

Osira sits alone on the temple floor, legs crossed, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap. She does not meditate, at least not successfully. She can’t bring the peace of the temple within herself , not now, not after what happened on Jedha. She should be in her office, working, designing, helping. (What good did her help do at the riot? What now does she have to offer?) But she can’t focus, can’t close her eyes and bring herself to a world of solid foundations and intricate networks of hallways. Her eyes close, and she sees the glow of lightsabers, the spilling of blood, and the mouths of civilians, echoing her words.

“What if you’re wrong?”

It had only been a whisper, only four words. But what does it matter if she didn’t mean to say it, if she never intended for anyone to hear? She put words to the feelings of an angry crowd. She should have known better, been better, should have kept her mouth shut and blended wordlessly into the crowd like she was meant to. Four words, and everything changed.

She told herself she came out to the familiar quiet of the Jedi temple for reprieve from the emotions of the underground (sadness, confusion, regret, even here, they echo in her), but the quiet only amplifies her own turmoil. ‘I should be working,’ she thinks, but it’s empty. She hasn’t slept a wink since Jedha (how could she, in the bunks with the others, on a night like this?) - her mind is too tired to work properly anyway. A sigh escapes her lips, and she gives up the pretense of meditation, leaning back on her palms. She opens her eyes to the darkness of the temple, still lit only by starlight, and listens to the quiet.

Then, the soft sound of footsteps on the stone floor. She tenses as she looks over her shoulder,  but relaxes as she sees who it is.