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Sleepless nights were no stranger to Zara Lazarus. To her, it seemed as though when her eyes fell shut, she would either fall victim to the repetitive enigma of her dreams of Solaris or sleep would refuse to claim her at all. It was a dichotomy which troubled her every night and neither option was pleasant. Tonight, despite attempts to surrender herself to Morpheus, she remained perfectly awake.
In their grand, four-poster bed, Kazran had already been asleep for hours now. That was how long Zara had been restless, her head filled with endless thoughts.
Before either of them had fallen into slumber, Kaz had attempted to sway her into something of a night of passion. She could sense the lust in his eyes, but she had refused to submit this time, rebuffing him as gently as she could with a chaste kiss. This was highly unlike her and Zara was aware that the girl she was at present compared to a version of her from a few months prior would barely resemble each other.
The Zara of before, she who truly was the White Death, who adored the nickname, was a force of nature. Her fierce, amber eyes penetrated every heart and mind who were so condemned as to lay eyes upon the fear-instilling wonder, and her hair, the colour of burnt timber framed her picturesque face of beauty and terror. Her cruel laugh amidst the cries and screams of war was a bittersweet melody; like the song of a siren, enchanting and bewitching, yet one that would ultimately result in great agony and trauma.
This Zara had worshipped the Empire and had revelled in being the White Death. She had equally worshipped Kaz and had devoted herself to him. Now, her feelings towards both Kaz and the Empire were barely tangible. She knew that the more she denied Kaz what he wanted, the more fury rose within him - she could sense it. But equally, her façade was falling beyond repair. She needed to rid Solaris from her mind and then, she would be restored to her former glory.
Her head still ablaze with thoughts - Solaris, fear of the Empire doubting her, anticipation for the following days when she would be sent in pursuit of the plans stolen by the rebels, now on Tatooine. She decided to seek companionship. At this time of the night, there was reasonably only one person who her seeing would not arouse suspicion. So, still in her black lace nightgown, Zara set off to find her source of escapism.
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Her fingers hovered over the red button, as she debated whether or not to press it. Entering may draw suspicion to her, however, Zara believed that she had adequate excuse to be where she at present found herself. Removing her blaster from the utility belt she had donned at the side of her bed and holding it in her left hand, with her right she opened the door. With a seamless, whooshing sound, it slid open and within lay just who she had been seeking. It was too late to abort her plan now, so throwing one more cautious look around the corridor, Zara stepped into the chamber and the door closed behind her.
