of all the places i have been (and do remain) there is a sacred silence in the stillness of the past.
through all the things that have been offered to me and all those i have ached over the presentation of to impress upon the recipient that i am parting with a piece of myself –
i still cannot find that which you took on the morning i made you a plate full of eggs and let you kiss me senseless before you took off in the green truck i still look for in traffic though time and distance conspired to place you in a world that does not touch mine and never will.
♖: Having their hair washed by the other Sith Power Couple
“I’m not as fragile as you think I am,” Shirenne grumbles, settling further down into the frankly unreasonable froth of bubbles, arms folded over her still-growing belly. “I can still take a damn bath without your help.”
Vitya grins before leaning down and kissing her cheek. “Shush, ‘Ren, and let me spoil you,” he says. He gently pushes her up a little, dragging a bar of soap across her shoulders, down the curve of her back.
This had been a mutual decision, the bathroom—an actual room with a bath, as well as the standard refresher just across the hall. They’d agreed that after everything, they both deserved a little luxury in the form of wasting the hours away underwater. The actual bath is a recess in the floor, a few meters away from a window that stretches from ceiling to floor and wall to wall, overlooking the storm and gloom of Kaas City from a considerable enough height that even the most determined of voyeurs would decide to ignore.
These past few months, the bath has been getting considerably more usage than either of them had anticipated. Vitya guides his wife back into a more reclined position, taking her by the hand and scrubbing, gently, along the length of her arm. As she breathes, her sense relaxed despite her irritation with him, her stomach rises and falls above the bubbles—and if Vitya focuses, he can feel the faint flicker of the two little minds growing within.
“Being spoiled doesn’t suit me well,” Shirenne says, leaning her head back against the rim of the tub.
“I think you wear flagrant opulence beautifully, my love,” Vitya says, moving to wash her other arm. “As beautifully as you wear everything else, of course.” Shirenne rolls her eyes. Her other hand falls below the water—
—and snaps back up, splashing Vitya square in the face with a spray of soapy, bubbly bathwater. Spluttering, Vitya does his best to dry himself off with his own arm, with little success.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking her head, but there’s a fondness in her voice that he’s found hard to miss now that he knows the tone.
“And you love me,” Vitya replies, turning her head with his free hand and pressing a kiss to her lips.
“And I love you,” Shirenne mumbles against his mouth, and he can feel her smiling.
Vitya places his hand on her shoulder and guides her forward, placing the soap in a tin off to the side. In its place he retrieves a small bottle of shampoo, which he’d had picked up from a little shop on Alderaan. The moment he thumbs open the cap, a rich floral smell wafts through the air, blending with the faint woodland scents from the other soaps and oils he’s laid out around the edge of the tub. He pours a small amount of pale blue liquid into his palm before rubbing both hands together until the suds start to come out through the gaps between his fingers.
“Lean back, my love,” Vitya murmurs, gently massaging the lather into her scalp.
Shirenne hums as she obliges, eyelids slipping shut and her sense falling deeper and deeper into calm contentment. Vitya cards his fingers through her hair, singing softly to her without thought. As if they can hear him, or as if responding to their mother’s serenity, the light of those twin minds flickering in Shirenne’s womb fades into a gentle glow, like embers of a fire left to burn through the night.
When he’s sure that he’s spread the lather as much as he possibly can, Vitya gently pushes Shirenne forward again, and she yawns. She keeps her eyes closed as he cups his palms below the water and brings it up above her head, the suds trickling down her back as he rinses the shampoo from her hair.
Outside, a bolt of lightning cuts through the sky, its brilliance filling the room with pale light for but a moment. The low rumble of thunder follows, shuddering through the floor beneath them. The ever-present storm of Dromund Kaas rolls on, clouds churning and sparking with chaos.
But inside, for this single moment, there is peace.
-I’ll buy/make you food
-Staying in and watching a movie is always an option
-I will surprise you with flowers for no reason other than I love you
-Cuddles, all the time
-We can be nerds and geek out over stupid things together
-I’ll (try to) harmonize with you while singing in the car
-Sad? We can make out. Happy? We can make out.
-I’ll rub your butt
-We can treat dogs like our babies
-I’ll protect you from anything scary
-I’ll never ask for anything except a genuine smile
-We can take naps together, any time of day
‘Why do you love me? What is there to love in someone like me? Please, tell me why you’re so fond of me because honestly? I don’t get it.’
I was perplexed how could he not see why?
‘I love you because you’re you.
I love you because when you smile, your lips always tilt slightly to the left. When you smile your amazingly sharp canines peek through giving you a juvenile look. When you smile, your ever present dimples show more — if that’s even possible —. When you smile, your eyes crease at the edges and your beautiful eyes become slits of pure joy.
I love you because when you laugh, you tilt your head backwards. When you laugh, you always close your eyes. When you laugh, you grasp your stomach and bend over. When you laugh, you always end in a deep sigh and smile after wards, you grasp my face in yours and kiss me as if we’ll never kiss again.
I love you because when I do something you like, you giggle. When I do something you like, you’ll caress my hair and pat my cheeks. When I do something you like, you look at my lips and say, “I fucking love you”. When I do something you like, your eyes bore into mine and I see a flame ignite in them.
I love you because when you’re concentrated you furrow your eyebrows. When you’re concentrated you tongue pokes out of your delicious lips and glides over them. When you’re concentrated, you tend to break out of it for a slight second and do that 'hmmph’ sound you know I like just to give yourself a small break. When you’re concentrated, you grab something to eat with your left hand and bring it to the right side of your mouth and proceed to take a bite.
I love you because when you kiss me, you grab my face with both hands. When you kiss me, one hand pulls on my hair, while the other runs its thumb across my cheek. When you kiss me, you always do a series of multiple pecks after we end making out. When you kiss me, I can feel you smile and let out small giggles of content. When you kiss me, you hold my face in your palms and look at me for a good while then you tell me I’m beautiful.
I love you because when you hug me, you hold me for a long time. When you hug me, you grasp me firmly with both of your strong arms. When you hug me, you use one hand to rub my back. When you hug me, you put your face in the crook of my neck and breathe in my scent. When you hug me, you won’t let me go until we’ve embraced each other tightly.
I love you because when you talk about something you love you smile the whole time. When you talk about something you love, you tend to look down at your hands. When you talk about something you love, you furrow your eyebrows and smirk a little. When you talk about something you love, you let out small sighs of happiness. When you talk about something you love, you always tilt your head to side and shrug your shoulders at the end because you get embarrassed at your enthusiasm.
I love you because when you make me blush, you tease me about it. When you make me blush you put your hands on my cheeks and remark, 'baby your cheeks are hot’ at which point I reply, 'no they’re not, I don’t know what you’re talking about’. When you make me blush you look at my cheeks and smile and say 'baby you’re blushing’. When you make me blush you hold me down and ask me why knowing damn well that makes me blush more.
I love you because when you tell me stories about your past, you say them in a low voice as if speaking louder will make them come back. When you tell me stories about your past, you always hug me and won’t let me go. When you tell me stories about your past, you run your hands through your hair because you know you might cry. When you tell me stories about your past you always mutter the phrase, 'why am I even telling you this?’ And we both know it’s because you love me, and you want me to know what I’m getting into.
I love you because when you notice I’m sad, you’ll look at me and poke my cheeks until I smile. When you notice I’m sad you tell me 'stop being a taco without the shell’ because you know I’ll laugh. When you notice I’m sad, you’ll hug me and tell me you love me. When you notice I’m sad, you’ll ruffle my hair and whisper in my ear, 'Tina eat your goddamn food’, because that llama is our spirit animal.’
I love you for so many reasons, if I listed them all, this poem would never end.
The best way to put it is, I love you because you’re you.
what did Pacat think she was doing when she wrote Damen like that??? she created literally the most perfect man in fiction and then just left us with the depressing thought that we’ll never be as lucky as Laurent because men as perfect as Damen just don’t exist