Leia wasn't afraid of silence. Silence had power, had heft. It was natural to want to fill that space, put more words into the air, but doing so only diminished the power of the words that had come before, of your actions.

She'd been trying to talk herself out of this for days, she realized. And weeks, and months before that. So when the silence finally fell upon her mind in a hotel room on Chardaan, she let it lie.

They were sitting on the bed, enjoying an impromptu toast after patching up each other's wounds. She'd kissed his injured hand, and he'd kissed the wound near her wrist. To make it better, they'd said.

She saw Han hesitate slightly before speaking again, and when he did, his voice was soft. "Anything else?"

She pointed to a small scrape on her collarbone, and he pressed his lips to it. Then her finger traveled to a spot on her neck, and his lips followed. His whiskers rasped softly against her, his breath warm.

The thoughts in Leia's head had been racing, shouting at her for days. Now they were, at last, as quiet as the room around them. You could hear a pin drop.

Han pulled back, looking at her, and the room seemed to get even quieter, if that were possible. She pointed at her lips, and as he leaned in, her mind had only one word to say.

Yes.

The kiss started out gentle, slow, not that different than the chaste kisses they'd shared as they'd posed as a couple on-planet for the Jubilee celebrations over the last few days. But it continued, lingered, intensified, and Leia let herself fall into it. His lips were soft, and tasted of whiskey. The whisper of their lips moving together remained the only sound in the room.

After a few minutes, he pulled back slightly to look at her again. He looked oddly serious, and Leia almost laughed to see him this way. "Uh," he began.

She looked at him, not speaking.

"Don't mean to get all heavy or anything here, but, ah—we still pretending?" he asked. Leia wanted to kiss him again just for how vulnerable he looked in that moment, for that slip in his bluster.

Instead, she smiled, leaning in so that she was close to his lips again. "No," she said.

It was like she had released a spring. Han closed the gap between them, cupping the back of her head in his good hand and pulling her closer with the other as he kissed her. Leia matched his intensity, meeting his kiss with hers, pressing her body to his, her mind still singing one word, Yes.

Then his lips were on her neck again, and the yes was a breathless whisper from her mouth as he trailed down her collarbone, pulling back her bathrobe to reveal her shoulder. "This all right?" he asked, looking up from his careful kisses around her blaster burn and meeting her eyes again.

"Yes," she said, pushing the robe further open herself. She saw his breath catch slightly and rose up to kiss him again.

It was like the language they used in the field, the looks and actions that conveyed everything that needed to be said. Let's go for it. I trust you. I've got your back.

And soon, there were more words, as they navigated carefully around each other's injuries, as they traveled this new territory together. This okay? Yes. Oh, yes. That hurt you? No, I'm okay. Ooh, watch the hand. Right, sorry. Oh yes, please. Right there. More. Please. Han. Leia. Oh, Gods. Yes. Oh—

Then another near-silence, just the sound of their breathing, her head resting on Han's chest, his good hand stroking her hair. We're not pretending anymore, she remembered. She should be afraid of that thought. But for now she let it go, resting in the silence.