I was proper sideways when you said
That we wouldn't leave together
We were in the mountains all alone
When you drove off, yeah, whatever
The spike of pain he felt was slowly getting concerning by the second of time spent. He felt the devious stickiness slowly seeping through his now probably ruined clothes.
The sun was somewhere high up and forced its heat high up the collar of his ruined flight suit.
It felt almost impossible to breathe or even make his lungs to expand and on top of that he knew the other tickle wasn't just from the sweat sliding down his skin.
He was soon going to feel the craving so crushing hard it'd take forever to subside even if he gets to his kit. If he even finds the way to his ship and cockpit is still there. Which he doubted judging by the immense pain his body suffered through.
It was routine maintenance after all. He fixed up a couple things, tinkered with this and that, oiled few things here and there... it was just a test run, nothing was supposed to happen.
He took the ship to check if it needs more work or he could manage some time without fixes or at least until something goes awry. He needed the next run go as smooth as possible.
And then some.
You were fucking crazy to believe
That I'd follow you forever
We were sleeping always on timber floors
And I'd sleep there though, whatever
But we were so drunk, most of the time
He once lost co-pilot on the run, not that long ago. He blamed himself but his gang told it was spice. They didn't know yet. Nor they do now.
He never meant to talk about it, like not even on his deathbed. It would cause the shame to seep slowly through his skin and taint his soul, his mind.
It was almost accidentally how he started to use. Almost..
Because if he'd been more alert he'd avoided the first incident. And his father wouldn't be so mad. Yet he was kind of teenage raging still and as usual one thing led to another and here he was.
Once again downed by some random trooper, on a bounty hunt, he took down with him on the way down before it called the rest of the parade.
He knew it was just random moment of misjudgment upon passing the hidden outpost but he was alone this time, no life to give up just for being stupid other than his own.
Oh, that morning
You were salt on my skin
Oh, that morning
Left us frostbite, frostbitten
He'd taken a hit and went down to pieces. Now he was on some planet or moon that had lots of vegetation and he didn't even want to think what creatures. He was injured and alone, completely vulnerable and in a need of a dose.
Not that he was too dependent, more like in need of a quick boost to try and get up.
Okay, he was aware of it being borderline addiction, however so far it didn't call for too much attention unlike few he knew.
He'd usually taken a hiding spot on Tatooine before returning to Kijimi for his end deal of a run.
It wasn't easy life as a spice runner. Zorii had been great and he actually had started to feel like he had family again.
But somewhere along the lines he'd taken up some more single runs. And other secret stuff.
Most notably feeding his own little roughness. But unlike majority he wasn't looking for the party stuff nor itty gritty shit of the wasted ones.
The first time had been accident that left him bleeding and in pain on a piece of ice on the planet. Kijimi was ice covered eternal winter and he was dumb enough to get drunk and trip over his own feet on the way down a mountain side.
It was his mistake and only thing saving his life was a little bag of white powder he'd taken in two snorts. The effect was almost immediate.
It lasted long enough for Poe to climb out of his mess and get help.
You're not a young man anymore
And you know it
Keep us dragging through the reeds with you
And the heartbreaking change
That came over me that day
I was so far from anywhere with you
He may have been frostbitten but he also was alive. And he didn't look too close until next time his speeder crashed into a desert of Tatooine post run and he woke up close to a boiled flesh and sand mess, blood cascading down his face in rivulets and cacking half of his head in crusted mess. He was burnt badly and probably had something broken inside but he'd taken his jacket and a small bag had tumbled out.
He didn't ask questions.
Few lesser times he'd gotten caught by some trooper but always finding that one mysterious bag of spice in his pocket tend to save him a lot.
He never asked questions.
And just like all of the other times his hand patted around the many pockets until located the item. He allowed his eyes a bit of a longer look at the small pouch and for the first time he noticed there was a word printed on it.
Frostbitten.
Maybe Zorii knew and it had been her all along, playing his game just like he kept it going.
And with a smile he took it and let his nostrils sing along with the rush and fireworks of his synapses.
Everything was firing up with colors and energy like never before.
His body all filling up with colors and all the pain fading away and seeping out into the green land around.
And just like that he knew she knew. It was a mix made specifically for him but started as accident because he didn't realize there was something in his pocket for weeks until the slip-and-slide.
So he guessed after that adventure Zorii realized some things and kept secret baggies of the adjusted mix hidden in his pockets just for special occasions.
Knowing his likeness for accidents and injuries.
He was up and walking before he knew it. But this one made it harder. His body was weaker and terrain made it double treacherous. He kept tripping and stumbling.
And he never had enough air.
He then stepped over a line he had been preserving and avoiding to step over...
Anything to keep alive and get back home..
Oh, that morning
You were salt on my skin
Oh, that morning
Left us frostbite, frostbitten
YOU ARE READING
Frostbitten
Fanfiction''Oh, that morning You were salt on my skin Oh, that morning Left us frostbite, frostbitten''
