Tatooine has become nothing but a vague memory in my head ever since I've been recruited by Lord Vader. Working on Starfighter, everyday is a battle for survival. He makes me cry out for death yet won't allow me the relief of it. Lord Vader is my ev...
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A/N: A little visual for later in the chapter hehe :)
C/W: Tad violence
The beat of my heart drums against my chest loudly until it bleeds into the sound of our footsteps stomping through the halls.
When we reach the dead-end of the ship, where his quarters are located, at the end of the hall, next to the entrance of Vader's door, it is marked with a small dent. It taunts me with the memories of Stryker punching the wall in a fit of rage. And suddenly I'm pushed up against the cold wall, Stryker breathing down on me. Suddenly I am small again.
A hand places itself on my low back causing me to jump. It's Vader. Stryker isn't above me. I take a breath and relax into his hand.
A wordless message is spoken beneath his palm across the span of my back. He strokes his thumb across my skin telling me, "It's okay."
In silence we enter his quarters. The cold and sterile environment welcomes me once again, this time less empty, more inviting. It is crazy how one person can make the whole difference.
Goosebumps rise on my skin when he removes his hand from my back and begins walking to his room. It takes my tired brain a second to catch up before I am padding down the hallway to meet him in his room.
"Shower's all yours." He says, walking out of his closet with clothes in hand.
I rub my eyes, "Thanks."
The small shrug of his shoulders is his only response as he folds the clothes and sets them on the bathroom counter for me.
When I step into the bathroom, he steps out and closes the door behind him with another word.
–
"Fuck," I moan.
The water pressure of his shower is euphoric. The scalding temperature burns away the dirt and grime of the day. I feel like a new person stepping out of the steamy shower.
Once I dry off and dress in his boxers and the t-shirt, I walk out only to see him already in bed, shirtless.
Awkwardly, I slip under the covers next to him.
"Thank you for this," I say with a small voice.
"I need you in good shape. You are making good progress on the Aetherium Ship. I can't have you messing up because of over-exertion."
Of course Lord Vader would turn his kind gesture intp a calculated business move, rather than accepting that he is doing something nice for me.
Sleep taunts me and I yawn, but I have so many pressing questions I want to ask him. I haven't been alone with him in almost a week.
The light goes dark when he suddenly turns off the light on the nightstand.
The gleam of the stars outside illuminated all my favorite parts of his face. His pink lips, blue eyes. His scar. I didn't even realize my hand reached out to touch it until I felt its soft ridges beneath my finger.
