Please have mercy

Pleasure

"Come here and take it off."

It took a few seconds for her brain to register what he had said, too stunned to reply, gaping at him as if he'd done something outrageous. She couldn't believe that he had agreed, after all this time this is what it took. She understood why he had kept it on, she had been a stranger imposed into his routine, she would've too if she had a mask, and she knew that by seeing his face she was now an even more valuable target.

She rose, walking up to him to stand between his spread legs, trying to contain the thrill of excitement mixed with the uncertainty that the task brought. It was so rare that she found herself above him, looking down instead of up for once.

"Is this another joke?" she asked earnestly, not wanting to repeat what had happened earlier.

Slowly, he brought her hands to the edge of the helmet, guiding her to the clasp, as she had done on their wedding night, skimming the bottom to find the release clasp on each side. She paused for an instant, scared that he would change his mind or that this was another test, some petty prank that he would play on her. She flinched at the clicking sound, shutting her eyes expecting to get hit, everything feeling too familiar, too similar, almost nostalgic. But as the seconds passed without feeling anything, she pressed the button further, sliding it all the way. She looked at him again, hearing the sounds of gears whirring before the front of it elevated.

He lowered his head slightly, allowing her to slide it off. She had not expected it to be so heavy, tightening her grip on it as she brought it close to her.

He raised his head back up, truly locking eyes with her for the first time and she did not dare to breathe.

She was beyond surprised at how tender he appeared, how human. His expression was inscrutable, an aura of calm confidence that hid a layer of concern that he'd disappoint her too. She did not care about the silent moment that passed without exchanging words, still taking in the details of his face, stricken by his age. She knew he wouldn't be an old man, but she had pictured the leader to be, well, older. Instead, he was somewhere between that and young, probably a good ten years older than she was.

During that time, she forgot everything she had imagined about him, however, she had envisioned him in her thoughts she had been both right and completely wrong. His black hair, soft and shiny, had no traces of the rumored padawan braid. Everything in his face was sharp and pronounced, making it immediately characteristically his.

She reached out with her hand, shifting the helmet in the other, awkwardly holding it against her body for support. With her fingers she skimmed the side of his cheek, tracing over the few freckles and the scar that ran down to his jaw, checking that he was indeed real. He let her do it, staring at her through dark eyelashes and his strangely colored eyes, nuzzling her hand with his nose before kissing the inside of her palm, holding her wrist carefully.

The contact of his soft lips was warm against her skin, careful and tenderizing. Caring.

Even if she had been with him before, although not like this, looking at him knowing he was seeing her back canceled everything else, making the moment truer if that was possible, and her more embarrassed. He took the mask away from her, chucking it on the table before standing up slowly, making her back away as far as their joined hands could permit.

She wished she could say something, not finding the right words or anything valuable to comment upon other than how grateful she was that she'd been allowed the privilege of seeing him.