[Tahiri bites back a sigh, a weight lifting off her chest when he's finally out of her space, when she doesn't have to continue breathing him in. Even then, she watches him, her gaze drifting over the lines of his body that she's come to know better than she should have.
What would Anakin think of her? What would anyone else think of this, of them?
Nothing, because they're nothing, and they must be nothing.
She doesn't make a move to get dressed yet.] What do you need me to do?
no subject
What would Anakin think of her? What would anyone else think of this, of them?
Nothing, because they're nothing, and they must be nothing.
She doesn't make a move to get dressed yet.] What do you need me to do?