binary stars (a.s)

the general and the lady

His footsteps, while grudging, carried with them a sense of tempered anticipation that only she had come to recognize as clear as her own name. A dark, curling, cloudy sort of thing, like smoke beneath a glass before a fine liquor embodied it. Enticing enough to taste, just the phantom of a promise.

Sprawled across her throne, she watched him approach, a panther toying with its prey. As the shadows revealed his face from the hall, brooding and chiseled and damning as always, her lips tugged into a feline smile. She lifted a leg against one arm of her throne, let it fall, and then lifted it again, as if emulating his footsteps or the beat of her rampant heart.

The guard at the head of his entourage said something, but she ignored it. His eyes found hers from across the throne room, blue as comets and just as smoldering.

She raised a hand, as much a weapon in its swift slashes through the air as the saber at her waist. The room tensed with her command. The general on the floor raised an eyebrow, waiting. Amused.

"Leave us," she said, coy yet unyielding. The implication buried six feet under the command.

Her guards knew better than to challenge her will. They departed, steady and silent as phantoms.

Soon it was just the two of them. Meters apart, unarmed, and yet the energy between them was charged.

"General Skywalker," she said, the words as much a greeting as a taunt. As the feeling of her nails grazing down his back. "What a surprise."

The specter of a smirk over his lips was enough to give her the answer she needed. That he'd sensed it too, the force between them. Breathed it in as readily as air. He glanced around the throne room with that same amused expression. "I like what you've done with the place."

She chuckled, the sound rolling towards him like thunder. "Your approval speaks volumes." She slid her leg down from the throne, eyeing him with a keen eye. "I see Senator Amidala hasn't graced us with her presence."

"You didn't request hers."

"No, I didn't. Did I?" she mused, glancing at her nails. Blood-red, the same as her saber. "I'd love to pick her brain sometime."

"If only you weren't wanted for crimes against the Republic--"

"Anakin, Anakin, Anakin," she sighed, rising from her throne. She felt his eyes roam over her body before returning to her face. "The only thing I'm wanted for is stealing the hearts of many and shattering them into a million, tiny, little, pathetic pieces." She stepped down from the dais before coming to stand before him. Even in her heeled boots, he stood a head taller than her, but he held her gaze with a challenge. With respect. "So unless you've come to file another case of theft against me, I suggest you watch that mouth."

That same mouth quirked up into that same devilish smirk that drove her wild. "And if I have?" The slightest step towards her, the beginning of a dance. "What will you do then, Lady?"

She pressed her palm against his chest. A pulsing heartbeat met her fingertips from beneath broad, toned muscles and smooth leather that smelled of smoke and evergreens. Of him. His breathing caught in his throat but his smirk only widened.

"You've been a surprise up until now, Skywalker," she said, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Why don't you keep it up?"

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