Jaren wasn’t used to seeing Isu’aexa look almost…guilty. The Sith was not exactly one for apologies, even to him, and he was nothing if not arrogant in many ways. Something had happened though; he’d come home bloody and messy. Worse though when silver-blue eyes found Jaren’s green, he looked away and there was something pained in his face.
“Saa’ri,” he said softly for the third time in the last few hours. “Please can we–”
The Rattataki shook his head, turning a bit in an uncharacteristic rejection that made the Cathar’s chest ache. Normally he hated to push Isu’aexa this much, but something was definitely wrong. He put his hand on a thick arm, feeling the muscles knot under his fingers. With a sigh, he moved around, standing in front of the other.
“What is it?” he asked, a hint of frustration and worry on his face. Had he done something to upset the Sith?
“No! No,” Isu’aexa said immediately, either sensing or just reading his expression. “You have done nothing, Jaren. I…I did…something.”
“So talk to me,” the Cathar said quietly. “Please?”
“What I have done– It–” The Sith backed up a step, brow creasing with unhappiness.
“Isu,” Jaren said softly, stepping after him and catching his face gently in his hands. “I’m not going to leave you the moment you do something I disagree with…”
“Do you promise me that?” The Rattataki said, stormy eyes a mixture of vulnerable and demanding.”
“Yes,” the red Cathar said, leaning to kiss the other gently. “I promise.”