To Be So Lonely // Ben Solo

9

Of the listed abandoned Rebel bases Leia listed for her, Cyra picked a random one, halfway down the list, and chose that to be her new hideout. At least, for a little bit. She wasn't sure if she could continue a life of solitude, or of staying in one place.

For now, Cyra flew the X-Wing into the opened entrance door of the Rebel base. She slowed as she slipped underneath the massive opeeing, then landed it just after the door. Cyra punched open the cockpit and tossed her bag to the gravel floor. She slid down the side of the plane and jumped down.

She reached to grab her bag, cursing as it had busted open from the top. She crouched down, shoving the odd items at the top of her bag back in. She turned her head as the last item remained on the gravel. She reached for the lightsaber, but something paused her hand as it reached.

Cyra lifted her chin, and subsequently froze in place.

"You don't have to worry. I can't see your surroundings," he said.

Cyra's lips split. Her ultimate shock glossed over anything other feelings that were bubbling up to the surface. But her brain shocked her back into was necessary and she grabbed the lightsaber from the ground, igniting it the moment it was in her hand. She was aware of how wide her eyes were as she stared at him. Her hands were not shaking, solely from how hard she was gripping the lightsaber between her fingers.

The last time she saw him, she had hit her head, and barely believed it was really him, if it wasn't for her feelings and how truly it was to her heart. But he was now right in front of her. She had been cleared by the Resistance doctor to be okay. She felt far from okay.

Ben was standing in front of her. It was only him. Whatever the Rebel base looked like behind him, she did not know, because his presence was blurring the physical world around him. The longer she looked at him, the more color bled out of her surroundings. Black was starting to surrounding him, and reaching to engulf her, too. It was forcing her to focus on him.

Cyra could not form any words. Her head started to shake the longer she looked at him. All she kept hearing in her mind was 'no' over and over again.

They spent what felt like several minutes staring at one another. He was right. Her hair had grown long, almost down to the small of her back, wild in its curls. Her face had grown longer, skinnier. Her nose was small in contrast to her face, her lips were cracked and pink. Her skin was no longer as dark as he remembered it, probably due to living on Ilum. She was skinny in her torso, though he barely saw her shape through her baggy button up shirt. It was thin. She was shivering, not from fear, but from the cold around her. Despite his thoughts, knowing he should not think so anymore, he could not deny her beauty.

They had both grown older. He grew into his face, she noticed. His ears, which almost made her smile. He grew his hair out, just as she did, but it suited his face. He was still tall, towering over her, though he was no longer the lanky boy he was when they were kids. His black clothing was tight to his body and defined the outline of his figure. She found her eyes tracing down his body, the shape of his arms, but quickly realized what she was doing and raised her eyes back to his. She hated how she was speechless to his presence and she had no idea if it was from seeing the beautiful boy she loved after six years or if it was because she feared what this confrontation meant.

"I needed to see you. You're alive."

"I've been alive."

"Not to me," said Ben. He shook his head, trying to soften his face, as he knew how hardened and unwelcoming it became if he let it. "Days after you left me on Mandalore, I stopped feeling your presence in the Force. Why?"

"Does it matter?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"To me," he muttered. "Does it not to you?"