Hopes

Chapter 10.

Solus's POV

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"I'm still your friend."

His words echoed endlessly around my mind, bouncing through the streets and off the walls, right back to me. On every ripped poster pinned to the lamps, in every click of my boots, and with every beat of my heart, the words chased me. Was it a taunt, a joke, a mockery? Or was it truth?

"Are you holding up alright?" His voice broke into my thoughts, and I didn't need to turn my head to see him watching me.

I continued my steady steps, protecting my screaming arm against my chest. Despite my subconscious attempts at falling behind, he always matched my pace, keeping me walking beside him. I still hadn't found a satisfying conclusion as to how he had me following him.

"My ship's just around the corner," he informed me, indicating to a bend in the Coruscanti streets. He paused, as though waiting for a response, then continued cautiously. "I would have taken you to a medical centre here, but I didn't ... didn't like you being so close ... to Maul," he finished awkwardly, watching me carefully.

I stiffened. He was taking me away from Maul. I didn't know whether to be grateful for his honesty or to be disgusted at his admission. The pure indecision left my mind reeling so much that it threw out both options and sulked. I kept walking.

"Ana— Solus," he corrected himself, touching my good arm and pointing down the turn I would have missed. "This is our street."

I stopped at the mouth of the street, eyes fixed to the pretty ship that sat swimming, half-hidden by the shadows. She was small and dainty, with a rounded nose and thin, silvery-white wings that caught a few strands of stray sunlight. I recognized her make as that of a Mandalorian, two-person transport. Though I should have expected it, I was still surprised. Why didn't I assume he had come from there?

A gentle nudge to my shoulder pulled me from my scrutiny. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

But my body had decided that, since I had stopped, it didn't want to move again. Pain had wound itself around my ankle and clamped me to the ground. My automatic response was to follow whatever orders had been given, but my body refused to cooperate.

"Are you coming?" He waited halfway between me and the ship. "You don't have to."

As if nothing else he had done or said had affected me, that one did. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't given the option. I wasn't asked questions. I wasn't addressed, unless necessary.

I stood petrified to the spot, unable to move or think. My mind ground itself into an impossible loop. I didn't know what to do. I had to do something. I didn't know what to do. It wasn't that I didn't have intuition; I just didn't have a choice.

Eventually, when I reacted in no way, he coaxed me to follow him, guiding me to his ship with a gentle hand. "Like I said, you don't have to come. In this case, I think it would be wiser to do so. I'm guessing pain is clogging your brainways, so hopefully once we get you fixed up, you'll start thinking clearer."

As we climbed into his ship, he was careful to allow me plenty of time to settle in. Though he seemed in no rush, I made sure to get in as efficiently as possible, folding myself into the seat behind the pilot's chair.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked as he pulled the glass lid down. I had no answer for him, but he didn't seem to expect one.

As we took off, heading out of Coruscant's airspace, he began talking quietly, chatting about what planets we could go to, about the weather on Coruscant, and about anything at all. I mostly listened to see if I could pick out any opportunities to get away from him, but as the flight wore on, the strangest sensation murmured in the recesses of my mind. He was calm, the atmosphere around him speaking of comfort and safety. His voice he kept low and even, reassurance spilling off every word, and his very nature seemed to exude a sense of rightness. Whatever the sensation was, I couldn't pin it to one word. It remained too much of a feeling to be described accurately.