MIXED UP ⌲ HAN AND LEIA

four; not the right time

— THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE OF ENDOR —

Leia had been standing outside on the rather intricate (for Ewoks, anyway) wooden structures and bridges for at least two hours. Ever since Luke had left, she had been feeling awfully disconsolate. A thousand things were on her mind, tearing it apart in a way that was both perplexing and terribly agonizing.

Han was circumspect about checking on her too often—he could tell that she was troubled—and when the Princess was troubled, she often needed some time alone, as much as Han hated it. If she wasn't alone—well, things wouldn't always turn out as planned. He had started to feel bad about questioning her after Luke had left, but he was truly and completely curious (and perhaps a little jealous). But he didn't want to admit that last part.

After the two hours had passed, Han had finally decided that he couldn't wait any longer. He loved her—though he had been too nervous to tell her himself. Or, as his mind often told him, too stupid. But no time ever felt like the right time. Not yet.

Leia heard his footsteps but didn't turn to face him. She still felt conflicted, and she desperately wanted to tell Han that Luke was just her brother; but, like Han's dilemma, it didn't feel like the right time.

Han stopped behind her and pressed his lips together for a second, getting the strange shy feeling he always seemed to get whenever he and Leia were alone. Han was certainly not an introvert by any means; but, for some reason, being with Leia seemed to change that, if only for a short time.

"You okay?" he mumbled, immediately regretting the lame words after they left his mouth.

Leia didn't respond, a deep sigh escaping her lips instead. She looked up, noting all of the stars and occasional flashes of ships that passed overhead, which were most definitely Imperial. The new, dreaded Death Star was the main attraction of the sky, engulfing most of the visible galaxy like a monster feasting on prey. She wondered, almost neurotically, if Luke was there yet. Then she wondered, even more neurotically, if she would ever see him again—her brother. Her friend. Darth Vader's—her father's—son.

Han interrupted her thoughts in a way that, ironically, made her feel like he could read her mind. "Uh—where did Luke go?"

"He....well, he had some things to settle. For all of us," she said softly.

Han frowned. "Things more important than what's goin' on here?"

Leia finally turned to face him and was surprised to find how close he was to her. His delicate hazel eyes showed the uttermost concern, and his arms reached towards her waist to pull her closer. She didn't protest.

"Trust me," she started off, her head against his chest. "He's....he's going through a lot, besides the whole Rebellion thing—which is already a lot to deal with as you know."

Han sighed. "Are you going to tell me what, exactly?"

Leia let out a humorless laugh. "No—but you probably didn't think I would. I think it would be better for him to tell you himself....when he comes back."

If he comes back, she wanted to add.

Han didn't seem completely satisfied, but all he did was just kiss the top of her head.

"I....well...."

He wanted to tell Leia that he loved her, right there and then. That he loved her so goddamn much, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, no matter the good or the bad consequences. Things had changed. At one time, he had only cared for himself; now, it was quite the opposite. He wanted everything for her; her happiness, her love, her safety. And yet—he still couldn't seem to form the words he desired.

"I...nevermind,"

Leia pulled back slightly and looked up at him. "What is it, Han?"

He shook his head. "Now's not the right time,"

He half expected her to press the question further (which would've led to awkwardness both of them would've regretted). But she didn't. A barely audible "Okay," was all Han heard—and that was the end of it.

He spun Leia around swiftly, and they both couldn't help but smile. His arms wrapped around her from behind, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"This is nice," he whispered.

She giggled and looked up at the galaxy above them happily. "Yeah, I guess it is,"

"If only that shit-station wasn't there," he muttered sarcastically, referring to the obnoxious sight of the Death Star. This time Leia couldn't help but laugh—really laugh.

"You're something else, Han Solo. You really are."

He smirked. "So are you, sweetheart. But you are far more interesting than I am."

"I beg to differ,"

Han spun her around again and pressed his lips to hers before she could react. He held onto her tightly so she wouldn't fall, while she kissed him back with a passion neither of them had felt before. They were both extremely out of breath when Han pulled away.

"After all of this is over....." he began, suddenly lost for words. Leia got his meaning.

"Yeah....yeah, of course." she whispered, putting a lot of meaning into those simple words.