The Force Won't Save You (Lesbian Story)

Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

"Trilla, my love, you own more black shirts than anyone in the entire galaxy. Please explain to me why you need that many." Briar stood in their living room, watching Trilla as she leaned against the glass in the dining room overlooking the storm filled sky. The Inquisitor had a cup of caf in her hands, her wedding ring glinting as she turned to speak to her irritated wife. Briar had expected Trilla to not have as many possessions as she did. Now, their closet was packed to the brim with shirts Trilla would probably never wear.

With her eyebrow raised, the Inquisitor took a loud sip of her beverage to further piss off the woman already clenching her jaw. "Have you ever had a full night of rest?" Trilla questioned, throwing her wife off guard. What did that have to do with owning too many shirts?

Trilla moved into the kitchen then appeared in the living room with another cup in her hands. She handed Briar the cup of caf that had been prepared for her, Trilla sitting down on the couch. The cup was steaming, Briar raising the cup to her lips as she felt Trilla's intense stare wash over her. "I knew you slept with your A-180 underneath your pillow. I'd felt it after cuddling into you and sliding my hand absentmindedly underneath your pillow for the coldness." Briar remained standing, looking down at Trilla as she leaned back against the couch in a comfortable position.

"I didn't expect, however, the amount of times you'd draw it throughout the night. The smallest sound, your A-180 was already out, the barrel pointed into the dark room as if you suddenly had night-vision and could see the intruder. I suspect you picked up that habit after you killed your bunk-mate. Am I correct? Afraid his friends coming and getting their revenge?" Trilla continued, speaking as if this was a regular occurrence such as talking in your sleep.

Briar hadn't the slightest clue what Trilla was talking about. Neither Alexis or Iden had told her about her odd nightly habit. She surely didn't do that every night.

"Based on your perplexed expression, Iden didn't inform you of the habit. Or, she was so cautious she'd pull a blaster of her own." Trilla drummed her fingers against the side of her cup, her short nails clinking against the ceramic. Briar tried to think back, unable to pull up a time when she'd woken up with her blaster in her hand.

She finally sat on the coffee table directly across from her wife, setting her cup down next to her thigh. "Every night?" Briar asked, concern leaking from her tone. Something must be wrong with her to be that fearful. So what, she'd killed her bunk-mate so she could rank up before him? That happened all the time in the Empire.

Trilla leaned forward, setting her mug down next to Briar's. "At least once a night. I've come to expect it. Once I hear the smallest creak, you're sitting up straight with your blaster drawn. Your eyes are still closed, your breathing still as if you're asleep. I only have to push on your chest gently for you to lay down again and go back to sleep." Briar lowered her eyes to the white carpet, shame filling her. She probably kept Trilla up half the night.

"I'm sorry. I'm probably not the best company to have in bed." She finally spoke, a soft chuckle filling the air. Trilla pulled in a deep breath through her nose, cocking her head to the side as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Oh darling, you more than excel in bed. Plus, I'm naturally a light-sleeper. You have to be when at any moment either Vader or the Grand Inquisitor could come in and kill you. My position within the Empire is easily replaced. Some would say that I am also expendable."

Briar scoffed, giving her wife a warning glance. "Your title may be fillable with another body, but no other Force-user has your cunning mindset. The Fifth Brother, he respects you."