The Morning After

[The Confessor]

[fancybox2]

CATONICA: THE CORUSCANT HOTEL
10:20 Hours
@EmilyHuene ; @vamp [/fancybox2]

Alcohol. Whoever invented such a cruel and despicable drink? Her head was pounding. Her stomach hurt. Her throat was raw. She at some point had gotten up to expunge everything from the previous night into the toilet. And she didn't carry a toothbrush with her. She hadn't expected to need one for she didn't plan on actually staying at the hotel. Thankfully the staff had at least provided complimentary mouthwash for them. That was a bonus.

Her night had taken a strange turn. One she did not expect to have ever taken. Not like...ever. The gala was a celebration in the Old Empire for their recent victories. Then again, these folk didn't need a reason to party. They were almost as bad as the Mandalorians in that fashion. At least the Sith were civilized. Not every party needed to turn into a brawl. Though, Eriana's actions last night were anything but civilized. She blamed it all on the man she'd woken up next to.

Milo Drast. Probably a relation to Wes Drast who she'd met on Coruscant and then again on Ilum. But that question went unanswered as she never bothered to ask. He'd come to her early in the night as she was sulking in one of the corners of the ballroom. Eriana had recently defected from the Imperial Republica after being more or less shanghaied by a few of the Empire's agents. They made her swear an oath over the tomb of the great Empress Andraste and her pledge held true to her soul. She would fight for her life for the Empire and turn her back on the failing faction she'd known so well.

But not everyone accepted her as their comrade. Eriana could feel the stares as she walked into the large banquet hall. The judging looks. The untrusting glances. The whispers she heard all too well for being blind heightened those senses. She found herself a drink and then sat in the back like the new kid at school. Lonely and unwanted. Save for one. He'd come to her a friend, though the blind Sith did not come to trust him right away.

He'd treated her with drinks and challenged her in a playful drinking game that she now regretted. What had gotten into her that she decided to even oblige his flirting? And what was his end game? Well, any girl in her right mind could tell you what his end game was. And she'd played with him until overtime. Now she was lying in bed, debating how she was going to escape. Would she throw a fit and curse him? Try to kill him? Or leave with her pride intact and vanish while he slept?

She knew she at least had to get out of the bed first. She untucked herself from the silk sheets and let her bare feet and legs open to the cold. It was warm enough in the room for her not to get chills, but inside their makeshift cocoon was a sauna and she didn't want to leave. Her dress was scattered over on the floor in a pile of his clothes and she fumed a little inside. She couldn't have at least...hung it up?

But what did sober Eriana know? Drunk Eriana had been in a tizzy. She was lost in liquor and chocolate heaven. His kisses were so warm they sent shocks through her body that at the same time made her chill to the bone. She still remembered how that felt, if she couldn't remember too much about how she'd actually gotten upstairs. A blush came to her lip as she remembered the feeling of everything that came after...

No! Behave. She was mad at this man. He's used her. She was vulnerable and he'd gotten her drunk and now she was sitting in his bed trying to escape with her dignity. But...hadn't she wanted this? A touch of someone wanting her? She was so conflicted.

Suddenly he stirred behind her. Eriana froze, wondering what he would do. Her naked back faced him and she felt his hand reach out to her. Chill bumps ran over her body. Curse him for making her feel this way....

 

[Darth Parox]

.

"Mmph, n—no, the attack took place after Mandalorian conquest of—wh—of course I plotted the hyperdrive cour—oh. I suppose he will die as he li—Shrimp? Never was there a vile—" Movement somewhere very close to him. Milo's eyes snapped open, interrupting his sleep talking, the Drast suddenly wide awake. He was a Sith Crusader, and no one could sneak up on a sleeping warrior of the dark side. He surveyed the room for the source of the movement, his eyes cat-like, until his gaze settled on skin. He looked up, then down, then up again, and it all came flooding back. His heart leapt, and he did his best to maintain a neutral facial expression, but he could feel his chest burning up. He regretted nothing; he was a Sith Crusader. He was sure of everything he did, and his resolve could move mountains. Anything he did was purposeful and sure. Still, it didn't feel real. The famed Eriana Fox, in his bed. They'd only met last night, and yet here they were. Good chemistry perhaps?

Milo reached a hand out and brushed her back with the tips of his fingers, the gesture surprisingly kind and comforting, considering it was coming from a man that would step over corpses to advance his goals. Perhaps this was what he needed to strengthen his resolve. An escape, someone to anchor him and remind him he's human. That way, he could partake in as much chaos as he wanted, without losing himself. Those were thoughts for another time, when it wasn't morning and he wasn't still groggy. Milo looked up at her after glancing out the window. It was about 1000 from the looks of it, and he had nothing on his schedule for today. All of his business had been taken care of, and until he went on to pursue new ventures, he was free to do whatever he pleased. Perhaps Eriana was free too. Perhaps they could spend some more time together before they ventured out into the Galaxy again.

"Good morning," he greeted. It was simple, but they were the first two words that came to mind as he pondered what to say. He could sense turmoil within her, the effects of the alcohol having worn off and his powers with the Force once again in full force, no pun intended. "We are Sith. I can feel your indecision." He thought for a moment. Was it his fault? Did she wake and come to realize she did not like him like that? Was she thinking this had been a mistake? Had he done something wrong? A million questions coursed through his head, but he asked none. Instead, he asked the one with an answer that meant the most. "What's wrong?"

@EmilyHuene

 

[The Confessor]

Good morning. The first words out of his mouth. Curious. Yet kind as well. A scoundrel would not likely give her any pleasantries. They would take their victory and leave without so much as a goodbye. Why then did he even bother touching her? Was it because she was still there and he thought they could have round two? Absolutely not!

His voice then, still with concern, would remind her that he could feel her indecision. Eriana scolded herself for letting her emotions be read so easily. There was no taking them back now. She squirmed out of his reach and stood up; the blankets no longer covering her. The view continued to be even more amazing in the dazzling light of the morning sun.

He'd ask her what was wrong and she replied coldly, "What was your reasoning for last night? Answer quickly before I find my sabers."

She had no time to be coy. Her heart was on the line and right now she doubted everything. She doubted this Sith, this man. He was nothing more than a deceiver and he'd given her a gift of friendship to gain a prize of lovers. Eriana would not stand for it. She would not allow herself to be tomorrow's gossip at the hands of some locker room talk. Not that Sith socialized in any sort of the way. No one in a million years would hear the story of what happened, but she would know. She'd remember the time she was betrayed.

Or...there was another option. One her heart did yearned to hear. He'd come to her because he'd seen her beauty. He found her person an enigma and some form of romance had blossomed in his heart too. He'd come to her and found she was not like any other Sith and therefore worthy of his attention. But this was no romance novel. The Force had not brought a man into her life before, and surely it wouldn't do so now.

Would it?

 

[Darth Parox]

.

He exhaled sharply but softly. Ah. Milo pondered for a minute, his train of thought taking off and chugging endlessly into the sunset. He looked at Eriana, admiring all of her features, so clear now in the light of a just-risen sun. His gaze was not predatory—no, it was soft, in a way, certainly strange for a Sith. He felt strange when he looked at the woman, as if he could suddenly feel his heart in his throat. Milo could compare it to nervousness, but it had been years since the Crusader had felt nervous. An Acolyte, making him feel this way? It had nothing to do with combat, though and everything to do with something else.

"I like you," he replied simply, his voice growing even softer as he spoke. "Fate seems to have brought us to the same place at the same time, and I saw you, and I like you." It was the most poorly-articulated few sentences he had spoken in years, but Milo didn't care. Surprisingly enough, he'd let his guard down, feeling rather comfortable here with Eriana. His lightsaber was somewhere on the floor under his clothing, and he could always Force pull it to him, but that would just be a nasty end to a nice night.

His yellow eyes glanced at her, setting on her face. Milo's normally hard expression had been replaced by something more vulnerable, his features soft as he looked at the woman. He didn't know what this was, but he wanted to explore it.

@EmilyHuene

 

[The Confessor]

His words cut her deep. Her hands shook. She clutched them tightly together, making tiny fists with her fingers. He...liked her? His voice was soft and gentle. It disabled her completely. She couldn't seem to keep her anger about her. Was this some trick? Some power of the Force? He continued to say that Fate had brought them together. No. Not Fate. The Force itself. That's what Eriana believed. Wholly and truthfully. She'd believed it all her life. And this is why she praised the Force.

At least, how she used to. There was a time when she prayed at least twice a day, once in the morning and another time at night. Depending on the day she'd pray more often, if she needed guidance or simply wished to speak to the mystical power. But lately she hadn't done any praying. Not since the Old Empire forced her to change sides. She felt that the Force had betrayed her. Why else would it allow for her to be captured and chained?

Maybe this was Its way of apologizing to her? To tell her this was all according to plan. She hadn't faltered from her devotion. Only, questioned it. But she never had any malice towards the mystical energies. Maybe that's why it was giving her another chance. Another change to be happy.

But it didn't change the fact she didn't know if she wanted this or not. Eriana turned around to face him, now facing him completely as she was. And that was as a Sith. Eriana raised her left hand beside her. Milo would feel the Force build for a moment as her lightsaber unburied itself from the mountain of clothes and snapped to her palm. She did not ignite the blade, but her thumb was close to the ignition switch (as she had held her blade time and time again it was only a natural feel in her palm).

"Why should I trust you? How can I trust you?"

Though her left hand was steady in its grip of the hilt, her right hand was shaking terribly. She moved it behind her back hoping to hide that hesitation from him. She didn't want to fight him. She wanted to trust Milo as a friend, and maybe more. Eriana wanted to know that last night hadn't been some drunk mistake and there was something more here to gain. But how could be prove that to her?

 

[Darth Parox]

.

The hilt of her lightsaber flew to her palm, and it was then that Milo felt natural instinct creep in. The Sith suppressed it though, instead eyeing the cylinder in her hand carefully. His own was somewhere on the floor, and he slowly began to wonder whether he should reach for it. No—that would likely not help his case at all. Instead, he silently coiled the Force around her hand, loose enough that she wouldn't detect it, but if she ignited the blade and tried to strike him, she would find her hand in stasis. It was a precaution; he was a warrior, and having a weapon waved around in his face while he was defenseless made him extremely uncomfortable.

Milo thought for a moment before replying. Truth be told, why should he trust her? He was a Crusader in the Old Empire, and it was not unlikely that she had decided to sleep with him just because of his status. Perhaps he was the one being used. Milo did not voice that, however. "Well, I'm not the one pointing a saber at you, am I?" he chuckled, a smile on his face for a brief moment. "We've just met. I don't ask that you trust me. I only ask that you open up enough that a trust can develop."

"I didn't just sleep with you for the sake of it," he added after a moment. It had been a hook-up, sure, but he could feel something starting to set in. A like.

@EmilyHuene

 

[The Confessor]

To his own ignorance, he thought that gathering the Force around her hand would slip past her notice. But Eriana saw through the Force. She might not feel his hand coil around her own, but she saw it. It was as soft and gentle as his own nature. She felt it was his way of saying "Don't fight. I don't want to fight with you." His words echoed that wish: that he didn't just sleep with her for the sake of gaining a win. He claimed he didn't need her to trust him, but he hoped that she would allow him the chance to earn that trust.

After all, she was indeed the one holding the blade. Maybe she could trust him. Or gain to earn his trust. Slowly, as if fighting a battle in her own mind, Eriana would lower the curved blade. She felt his whiff of energy around her hand release and she used that moment to toss the hilt back into the pile of discarded clothes. She moved closer to him, one step at a time. Eriana crawled onto the bed and moved to be eye to eye with him. Though her eyes were blank, he could feel she was reaching out with her mind trying to gain some understanding.

Her hand raised up and would touch his cheek, "Will you...touch minds with me? Share your thoughts with me?"

Such a thing was the most intimate things any Force user could actually do. Much in the way they could push a thought into someone's mind, they could meld their own thoughts together and share close thoughts. If one allowed, even deep secrets buried down in their minds. Eriana was not asking for that much sharing, but enough so that she could trust his words. Maybe then she would be able to trust in her decisions last night to lie in bed with this man.

 

[Darth Parox]

.

He relaxed as she threw the hilt away, letting himself lay down in the bed once more, no longer propped up on his elbow. Milo gently touched the left side of her face with his left hand, their noses mere inches away from touching. Her question surprised him; he had never put this much trust in anyone in his whole life, and it could be damning if Eriana took note of his deeper secrets and ran with them. In the wrong hands, they would ruin him. "Yes," he replied simply, looking vulnerable for once. He slowly let his walls down, his mind open to her. It was a tentative gesture, and there were some things that he would keep hidden unless she asked to see, instead choosing to let her see his most recent memories and current thoughts. She would be able to see Nor'baal, the Hutt's booming laughter echoing in his mind; a case of violators; an Ifranian charging at him and the blood that flowed down his face then; she could see the Sith Purebloods that Milo and Zeven killed for a scroll; the attack on the Lusty Lekku; the assassins sent to him on Mataou; and at last, she would see herself as he'd seen her last night, mysterious and enticing. He'd been pleasantly intrigued, his thoughts focused more on who she was and his interest in her rather than what he wanted to do with her in the room—thoughts which would come later on as the night dragged on. And at last, she would see herself now, and would be able to read his thoughts as he stared into her eyes.

"You can trust me," he projected, and she would know it was honest. "And I can trust you," he would add after looking through her mind. Not many people in the Galaxy could say they had his trust—only one other than Eraina, perhaps, but only when it came to business, since that's where his relationship with Nor'baal had stayed—and she was the only one who had seen him act like this. He acted vulnerable for no one, because he was not weak, but Milo could see nothing wrong with being tender and allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of her. He did not know why, but he felt comfortable around Eriana—or at least, he wanted to.

@EmilyHuene

 

[The Confessor]

Their hands each cupped one another; their lips so close to the other. She could feel his warm breath teasing her flesh. And then he opened to her. Eriana pushed her forehead against his and opened her mind. Like Milo, it was rare for her to share her memories or thoughts with anyone. But as she would see his memories, he would see hers. Milo was given the gift of her sight as he peered through her recent memories. She showed him the planet of Ilum and the icy caverns deep down below the planet's surface. Her eyes showed a beauty far unlike anything he'd ever seen. He could see the walls and all the crystals around him. But he didn't see the sights in his normal two dimensional way. Her sight focused on everything around her in every direction. The whole world open to her and only her.

And then her vision changed to her temple. It was still under construction and the room temporarily empty. There, three flames of Sith warriors came and ambushed her. He'd see them surround her and force her to surrender her weapons. Milo would feel her despair and utter failure with herself. It was one the reasons now she doubted trusting anyone. She feared they would make her submit to them. The vision changed to the first green flame from the last vision taking her to the tomb of Andraste. She stood over the stone and bled onto it. This was where she made her promise to obey the rule of the Empress and fight until she died.

Her despair followed her to the hotel where Milo saw himself as his purple flame coming to share drinks with her. Milo would feel her spirits lifting and her vision fading away until it was only him that she saw. The rest was a blur of flashes and sparks of their night together, only redistributed by her feelings and not his. The more cardinal and primal lust, and deep thralls of passion as he felt what it was like on her end of their love dance.

"You can trust me. And I can trust you."

Their words echoed in one another's mind. Her voice a reflection of his as they shared the mutual feeling. Eriana retreated from his memories but kept the connection strong as she moved more on top of him. Her lips came to his and the two shared a passionate kiss. She felt what he felt, and vice versa. His strong scent and salty bliss. Shared with her soft touch and lips like honey. Her hands dug into his hair and fiddled with the strands while his hands explored her back.

 

[Darth Parox]

.

She said nothing in response, but she didn't need to say anything; Milo understood. His left hand trailed down her cheek, then her jawline, then her neck, and wrapped around her waist as she climbed on top of him. They kissed again, and butterflies exploded in his chest, a feeling he had only just learned existed. His hands explored the soft skin of her upper back, then slowly moved lower, and he pulled her closer to him. He wanted to—no, he needed to—feel her body on his, to be as close as possible to her, in every way possible. He ground on her as they kissed, and he brought his right hand up to palm through her hair, pushing her face into his desperately. Milo found himself panting in the brief second they drew away to breathe, his face hot.

Again? he wondered, the thought echoing into her mind. They were still open to each other, their minds connected, and could still hear each other's thoughts. Again, he added, answering his own question. Milo flipped her over so he was now on top; last night, he had been too intoxicated to object as she forced him to submit, but sober was a different matter entirely. He reached up and felt the side of her face as they kissed, moving lower and then back up, desperate to feel every inch of her.

@EmilyHuene

 

[The Confessor]

His touch was like cold fire dancing down her skin. She shivered and gasped as he explored her curves until he embraced her and the two became one again. Her heart pounded in her chest. Eriana was lost in their passions and in their shared mind they agreed that neither of them could get enough. His hands explored her back while hers continued to toy with his hair. She didn't want him to stop touching her, and so she pressed her lips against his feverishly. It was like she was begging him to stay with her in that kiss.

He then took hold of her and flipped her. His hand came to touch her cheek. Mile might have been a different person while drunk, but sober Eriana was the same. She gripped his wrist tightly and wrapped her thighs around his waist. Clutching with all her might she turned and twisted to roll him back onto the bed with her on top once more. She hissed at him, playing like a cat with her toy. Her hands gripped his shoulders and pinned him down while her knees dug into his legs to keep them down too.

"Uh-uh-uh," she teased. "I am in control here. Accept my love."

 

[Darth Parox]

.

He chuckled then, his shoulders fighting back against her grip. "You're in control?!" he asked. Milo gathered the Force to himself and then pushed himself back up, grabbing hold of her and pinning her down. "Who's the Crusader here?" Milo asked teasingly, his hand on her throat. He leaned in until their faces were almost touching, his eyes taking in every feature, every detail of her. "You'll have to get me drunk again if you want to take control." Using the Force had been a dirty trick, but he could have overpowered her using sheer strength alone. The Force had helped speed the process, however.

If she tried to raise herself back up, he would not allow her, his hand pressing down to restrict her airflow. He would stop before it hurt, leaving her in the blissful area where she could not completely breathe properly but would not suffocate. Milo was a dominant person, his personality having been molded into that of a fiercely loyal warrior of the Empire, and it leaked into other aspects of his life. He would not allow himself to be thrown around, and he only liked feeling vulnerable to an extent. An idea came to him, and he slowly charged his voice with the Force, so that it dripped with persuasion. Leaning in, his breath on her face, he spoke, his voice husky, enhanced with the Force to be extremely convincing.

"I'm in control here."

@EmilyHuene

 

[The Confessor]

The man atop of her would growl with his own annoyance and dominance. He played with her mind, reminding her he was the only crusader here. But he forgot that she too had been a crusader in rank. As he pushed down on her windpipe she took a moment to breathe in a metaphorical grasp for control. Eriana's leg snaked under and in between his legs and then gathered the Force within her too. She hissed again and bared her teeth. Using a sudden burst of kinetic energy she flipped him off of her once more and then pounced toward him. She wrapped herself around his back and bit sharply into his neck. Her arms reached under his and gripped her wrists as tightly as her Force-imbued muscles could grab; her legs too wrapped around his lower torso. She was like a wild and venomous python and now he was in her grip.

 

[Darth Parox]

.

He felt her leg slowly slither under his, and Milo tightened it up, not letting her have any leeway to flip him over. He pushed down harder on her neck and leaned in to kiss her, interrupting every action before she could do it. Eriana would have to choose between remaining in the kiss and breaking away to flip over. If she chose the latter, Milo was prepared to fight back, though they only had limited space in the bed for that. His hand came off her neck, and instead grabbed hold of her wrist. He held it, moving her hand so that her fingertips grazed his naked chest.

With the other hand, he held himself up, supporting his weight on it. If Eriana hit that arm, he would fall on top of her, but remain there, his weight pushing down on her awkwardly and preventing her from moving too much. It would not be very fun for any party involved, so he hoped she would abstain and yield instead.

@EmilyHuene

 

[The Confessor]

"Crap!" she'd think as he tightened around her leg. It almost gave her the edge she needed because with him grabbing it made it that much easier to twist but then his hand gripped even tighter around her neck. She gasped breathlessly, finding this lips being pressed into hers. It was as if he was stealing her breath away. Blood was rushing through her body but being squeezed at the vein in her neck. The pressure building was like a dam on the verge of erupting. And she loved it. Her vision -as it were- was blurring from the lack of air making her head feel woozy and light.

She surrendered to his kiss at least. He'd won that part of the fight. But she hadn't entirely surrendered to him yet. She was going to put up one hell of a fight. Not out of hate. Not out of anger. This was all a game to her and she was loving every second of it. If he wanted to be her lion king, she would be his ferocious lioness. Sharp with her teeth and even more deadly with her claws. He bravely stole her wrist from her and placed the fingertips at his chest. Normally someone passionate would go to rub at it, feeling his heart.

Eriana wanted blood. She dug in with all her might hoping to make the Sith crusader drop crimson puddles onto her. She would make him feel alive, and in return she hoped he might do the same. Then, after taking him by surprise, would bring her other hand up to grip his hair once more and arch his neck to her where she again would go to sick her teeth into his lovely soft flesh. One way or another, she was going to leave marks today.

 

[Darth Parox]

.

A sigh escaped his lips as they kissed, his hand letting go of her neck. He'd won the fight, it seemed. Milo relaxed, pushing himself on her, Eriana's frame fitting so well into his. He was about to lean back in so he could kiss her, but a sharp pain in his chest interrupted him. He looked down to see blood dripping. Confusion struck him at first, and his brain immediately assumed she was trying to kill him. He thought for a minute, but ruled against that. She wouldn't try to do that. She'd opened herself up to him.

He smirked, but it seemed she was not done. Eriana tugged him down and bit down directly into his neck, and Milo exclaimed in pain for a moment, a surprised "uh" escaping his lips before he gave in. She had yielded herself to him, it seemed, but wanted a fight. Well, he would give her a fight.

@EmilyHuene

 

[The Confessor]

What happened next was a blur. Passion. List. Primal roars. The two were a tumble of bodies fighting for dominance. He with his muscles, her with her claws. They threw one another around, fighting for ground wherever they could gain footing. Tiny droplets of blood followed them from her continuing to drag her nails into his flesh or bite into his muscle. She could taste his blood and it gave her the fire to keep fighting. She would not surrender so easily and he'd made it obvious he was not backing down.

The fight was on. The sheets were long gone at this point. A pillow had been thrown over the nightstand. A vase lay shattered in broken pieces (thank the gods neither had gone to take up the shards as weapons). Somehow a chair got involved and she would have a nasty bruise on her backside from where he'd hit her with it. For a moment things looked like they'd gotten way too out of hand and he'd crossed a line. She only laughed and turned to bare her fangs at him once more.

And then she pounced. And they were back at it. How long they lasted was lost to either of them. At any point they could have checked the time but why bother. Neither of them had commitments. They had time for only themselves and they were hell bent apparently to destroy every last thing in this room in their heated thralls of desire. They were animals. Primal and destructive. Neither backed down. Neither submitted. Their war took them across the room and into every wall and surface they could push the other into. The rooms might have been free to rent, but there was sure to be a bill later.

When both had exhausted all their energies, they wound up lying in a tangle of themselves on the floor. Eriana lie on his chest, folding in his arms. For whatever crazy reason she set about licking his wounds and tasting the crimson water as it pooled up from her scratch marks. The taste was so strong on her taste buds and she had the strangest sensation she was sharing a bit of his soul when she drank from him. Logically speaking she was absorbing his aura, for in a way that made sense for Force users. But it was more passionate than that. More loving.

So they lie there trying to catch their breath and the morning sun clear on the other side of the building now. If they went at it any longer it would be nighttime already. How had the time flown? With hunger crying out to her, the black haired raven stood and went to order them some room service. She had to walk carefully for splinters from the wooden chair were still lying about. She laughed as she teased him for being too rough. When it was her who had been the exicteable one. Then, once the call was placed, she hopped onto the bed and called him over once more for some good old fashioned cuddling.

No more would she doubt him. No more would she not think to trust him. She'd opened herself up to the man and he'd shared himself with her. The two had linked heart and soul to one another and their evening and daytime activities solidified that relationship. Eriana didn't know what the future would bring for her, but she knew now that it had brought Milo Drast to her. Maybe tomorrow she could pray again. For today though, she'd done enough praying to the gods above.

~END THREAD~
​