OC Kiss Week: Day Five
Featuring my Thallia Zeh and @ohyashasâ Reiyaxa Kahzri (I hope this isnât too OOC for Rei). I have no idea what Rei sees in her right now because drunk Thallia is a Certified Mess.
Day 5: drunken kiss | promise kiss
Someday, Iâm gonna stop attempting to write drunk people when I have no idea how to, but today is apparently not that day.
If she were to be perfectly honest with herself, Thallia was not entirely sure how many drinks sheâd had, or even why she decided to visit the cantina in the first place. Then again, after downing however many of the shittiest drinks sheâd ever had, being honest with herself was quite possibly the only thing that was becoming easier.
Well, that and making a fool of herself.
Luckily, the cantina was crowded enough that there was surely no chance of causing too much of a scene, and the odds of a lowly apprentice being recognized were relatively slim, particularly when unaccompanied. It also meant she could look around without too much worry of being caught, which she took ample pleasure in doing.
Most of the other patrons seemed common enough, likely off-duty soldiers or citizens relaxing after a long day. Nobody she wouldnât expect to see in one of the cheaper places on the shithole that was Tatooine.
One, however, caught her eye. The dark cloak draped over a slender frame hid much of her body, but the hood was thrown back, revealing pale skin, cut sharply with a deep purple tattoo. But even more captivating were the eyes, bright yellowish red and keen, darting over the crowd as though catching every tiny detail in spite of the empty glass before her.
Without warning, the gaze shifted to meet hers, narrowing slightly before a smirk crossed the Rattatakiâs face and she got to her feet.
Heart pounding, Thallia watched as the woman made her way through the crowd, weaving around the raucous tables with a purposeful stride that was somehow light-footed and yet radiated power. Something akin to disappointment settled, icy cold, in her stomach as the woman disappeared from view among the throng. Or maybe that was the first dashes of sobriety sliding into her veins.
Shaking her head, she pushed herself to her feet with every intention of stumbling to the bar and ordering another couple of shots but before she could, a figure appeared at her back, and she twisted into a defensive stance.
Or, perhaps more accurately, staggered and fell back into her seat, one hand gripping something thin and square and very much wasnât her lightsaber. She glanced down.
Oh, her datapad.
By the time she looked back up, the Rattataki had sat down across from her with two drinks and another, broader smirk. This close, she could see scars, stark against chalk-white skin, and sense the faint hint of ozone and power. A fellow Sith.
âI wasnât sure what exactly that⌠concoction youâre drinking was so I ordered a few. I was going to let you pick, but Iâm beginning to doubt the wisdom of letting you have any.â
At that, Thallia scowled. The voice may have been more teasing than mocking and almost obnoxiously alluring, but nobody was going to stop her from making shitty life choices, not even a Sith who was far too enticing. âIâd like tâ see you stop me.â
âOh? What is it you want, then?â And the womanâs lips twisted as though she knew exactly the interpretation her words would have, the response that flew to her lips. As though she was just waiting for the reply.
Well, fuck it. She didnât get where she was by being cautious.
She reached out, snagging one glass of some amber liquid and throwing it back in a single motion, before leaning forward. âYou, as you damn well know.â
A quiet chuckle as the woman shifted closer. âWell, then, you might just be in luck.â
And that was permission enough for her.













