WARNING! AUDIO ONLY: NO TEXT READOUT!
*The familiar low thrum of a ship’s engine is punctuated by the almost frantic scratching of graphite against a slip of paper. There is no long pause, or introspective sigh before she begins talking; rather, her voice is held to a near-monotone, as though she feared allowing it to run its natural course would betray her somehow.*
I will be working for Harith - for the benefit of Rayza, of all people - soon. One final job.
Then I will be taking an indefinite hiatus from guarding Tybel, with Harith’s blessing.
I don’t know if, or when, I’ll go back. To them. Or to the Sith.
*She sighs, the graphite tapping an unsteady rhythm against a metal surface*
I just want to sit and not… not be angry. Or scared. I want to learn how to make things other than soup to eat. I want to learn who I am without hiding behind my walls. Without hiding at the bottom of a bottle of Alderaanian wine. I want to draw things other than my nightmares.
I want to know why Saeren loved me. How he determined I was the one he wanted to love, even though I was pushing him away even as he pushed forward.
And I want to know if what I felt - feel - for him was love, real love, or the relief that someone did love me for once, no matter what kind of love it was.
I want to know this.
I need to know this.
*She takes a deep breath, graphite scratching almost frantically as her voice cracks.*
I’m broken. I’m no good. And things are happening and I want to put my walls back up and curl behind them and hide and be alone because I don’t want to deal with what I’m feeling and with what I’m hearing.
I mean… fuck.
Jerhal told me he loved me.
*The graphite crack-snaps and she chokes out a short, strangled, almost hysteric laugh.*
What do I say to that?
I can’t deal with this.
I can’t deal with how remembering the words makes my heart catch in my throat even now.
I can’t deal with how I wake up from reliving the look on Saeren’s face as he shielded me from the explosion, only to slip into the memory of Jerhal’s hands on the small of my back while his mouth was on my throat.
I can’t deal with this feeling of falling again when I can’t remember the last time I was on solid ground.
*She falls silent, the thrum of the engine once again filling the feed like some sort of ancient song whispered through the room. When she speaks again, her voice is sad, yet determined.*
I have never wanted to run away more than I do right now.
And I can’t.
Saeren told me to be selfish. To think of myself.
I hope never remembers that.
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