[ She can practically see the gears in his head turning as he searches for the right words, and so she lets him. Wordlessly, she takes those few steps necessary to cross the cell, coming to stand at his shoulder, and reaches out to run her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head, an affectionate gesture.
She thinks she might be addicted to touching him, a little. But his hair is soft under her fingertips, like spun sunshine, and so she doesn't stop. ]
As do I. Even if you do think too much. [ She doesn't try to hide the teasing fondness in her tone that time.
More soberly, she adds: ] I know I asked much of you. To go against your Order in this.
[ Not that she regrets anything, to be clear, but she does acknowledge that the Jedi Order forbade attachments exactly like theirs and that, to Cal, the Jedi Order meant everything. Might still mean everything. It was his home, his family, his way of life—and he gave up no small piece of that.
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She thinks she might be addicted to touching him, a little. But his hair is soft under her fingertips, like spun sunshine, and so she doesn't stop. ]
As do I. Even if you do think too much. [ She doesn't try to hide the teasing fondness in her tone that time.
More soberly, she adds: ] I know I asked much of you. To go against your Order in this.
[ Not that she regrets anything, to be clear, but she does acknowledge that the Jedi Order forbade attachments exactly like theirs and that, to Cal, the Jedi Order meant everything. Might still mean everything. It was his home, his family, his way of life—and he gave up no small piece of that.
For her. Because she asked. ]