An extra random little fic that I thought up of a while ago but never finished. Well, guess what: I finished it! X)

Thanks for reading.

Apologies Not Easily Given

By Cinquain

A quiet creak of a door.

A soft footfall.

Leia Organa looked about cautiously at the prone forms of sleeping men, tiptoeing carefully around the untidy piles of clothing and belongings. Her nose wrinkled delicately at the disgusting mix of sweat, old clothing, and overpowering aftershave. She really did not belong in this primitive, unclean and cramped living quarters.

At least, that's what Han Solo thought, sprawled in a half lying, half sitting position in his own small bed. He was hidden from sight by the darkness, but as the door was opened wider Leia seemed to suddenly know where he was and her head immediately turned to him.

It had been a passing remark, thrown and dealt carelessly. Thoughtlessly.


And it had run deep, without me meaning to.

So now here I am, so sorry, but unable to say a thing.

No. Not unable. Unwilling. Idiotically unwilling.

Ugh. It smells horrible in here.

As I push aside my petty current thoughts I find what I am looking for. I catch the flicker of those hazel eyes in the light, and now I can see his dimly lit shape in the corner. I make my way to him until I stand above him, for he has a bottom bunk.

"Han?" I breathe. He has closed his eyes while I walked over. He isn't going to fool me that easily.

"Han." I hiss. His response is a fake rumbling of sleep. Exasperated, I reach over and shake him. When that fails, I cover his mouth with my hand and slap him on the cheek. Hard.

"Ouuggghh!" he mumbles indignantly, prying my fingers from his lips. I wipe my hand on his sheets and stand back, hands on my hips.

"Wake up," I say. He stares at me with fully awake eyes. I know for a fact now that he wasn't sleeping. He scowls at me.

"Just a few more hours, sweetheart," he growls, and is about to turn around again when I haul him out of bed. He just manages to catch the ground with his left foot to avoid waking the whole room. His hair is mussed up, his clothes are scruffy.

"We need to talk." I murmur with a pleading note in my voice. He stares up at me crossly, eyes squinting.

"I don't want to talk, but if you insist, Your Worship." I begin to smoke as his ill-natured teasing hits home. I take his hand and drag him unceremoniously out of the room. As we step out and the door closes I turn around to find Han leaning over me, both hands touching the walls on either side. I am effectively trapped as he stares me down almost contemplatively.

"Captain," I say, and I am furious that my voice breaks.

"What did you want to say, sweetheart?" he responds with oddly intense eyes. From some terrible, soft, emotional part of me I shy away from his gaze.

"I would tell you if you'd leave me alone," I say a bit louder. I am relieved to find that my voice is stronger. I turn to return his stare now, and he is still standing there, eyes slightly narrowed, as if trying to figure something out.

"Well, that makes no sense," he rumbles in response with a start of his infuriating smirk. I immediately find fuel for my waning fire and duck under an arm, taking a large step away and regarding him with renewed disdain.

"You make no sense!" I growl in response. "Now if you'd just-"

"No," Han suddenly steps up, level with me, and grabs my shoulders. I force myself to stare back at those hazel eyes. Let him have his way. I don't care if he doesn't listen. It's for his sake anyways.

But as I stand there I know that I do care. Immensely.

I take a deep breath and try to stay levelheaded.

"I have something to say to you," I say. Or, I try to say. It comes out as a croak.

"Speak up, princess," he drawls.

"I have something to say to you, you arrogant bantha!" I burst out, glaring at him. He only raises a nonchalant eyebrow, obviously amused.

"Okay, then," he murmurs, looking away casually and shrugging. "Shouldn't be too hard."

My fury bubbles over and I clench my hands, nails digging into my palms.

"I'm sorry, all right?" I hiss, unable to keep myself from stomping my foot on the icy floor. I immediately regret the action because his smirk widens. "For what I did…what I said…"

My mouth is suddenly empty of words and I trail off, eyes still locked on his. The smile suddenly wipes off his face as we stand there for eternity, both of us not even daring to breathe. I can almost feel those lips on mine, his work-roughened hands against my neck. His secure arms holding me steady.

And the distance is closing, imperceptibly. Lips just brushing, eyes closing, hands moving up to his head of their own accord…


I leap away in shock to see a weary looking officer stooping to pick up a thick dropped volume. He hasn't seen us yet in the dim light of the nighttime fluorescent.

Han snatches at my hand as I bolt in the other direction. His footsteps echo along the passage behind me. Why won't he leave me alone, that stuck-up idiotic-

"Leia!" he's caught up with me quickly, and grabs my hand. Pulling me around to face him, he grasps both of my wrists tightly, and I almost gasp in pain.

"Just say it," he pleads in a low voice, and his eyes are filled with desire and confusion and sorrow so much that I can't sort it out without a year and day. "Say that you love me, I know that you do."

Our eyes meet for a split second and my chest aches. I cannot. I cannot give out what has already been destroyed.

"I don't."

And I run again. There are no footsteps this time, only a piercing silence that brings tears to my eyes.

I'm sorry.

Sad, huh?

Reviews for this rather melodramatic fic pleaaase. :)