It took Luke a little longer to emerge. Having woken at the same moment--though neither knew it--there was a certain discomfort he did not wish to bring out into daylight with him, even if the robes hid a multitude of sins. Even so, he took care of it the Jedi way, willing his body into submission in a way he had not had to do in some time. He'd thought this had simply been age, though his drive in that area had never been strong. As it turned out, given a target, however inappropriate, everything was apparently still in working order.
He'd have to face her again, of course, and he would. But how could he forgive himself for this betrayal, hidden and victimless as it was? How could he continue to teach her, interact with her, to abuse her trust when apparently he harbored some craven desire to touch her in a way that she could never return and which he was damned for imagining, even inadvertently? She had opened herself up to him and he had run with it, in a way he'd never experienced before, much less with someone young enough to be his--
No. The only thing to do was to banish it from his mind. Hopefully, his body would follow. She could not know, for to apologize for this in any way was to impose his perverse impulses upon her. He could only hope that it had been a fluke born of too long apart from people, that it was a dream in the way dreams often manifested parallels to truth rather than actual reality. He would forget about it, and she would, soon, become satisfied with what he had to teach and leave. It was the only answer.
Composed at last, he emerged, shields intact though somehow he knew exactly where she was as if his internal compass was now magnetically aligned to her north. At least, he thought, any embarrassment could be interpreted as shame for his behavior the night before. And he'd thought that had been reprehensible. If only he'd known.
"Rey," he nodded stiffly, taking his turn at the basin. What did he say? He could barely look at her, not with his banished thoughts so fresh in his mind, but to run now would be to invite her to follow. And he could not afford to have her ask what was wrong, now.
no subject
He'd have to face her again, of course, and he would. But how could he forgive himself for this betrayal, hidden and victimless as it was? How could he continue to teach her, interact with her, to abuse her trust when apparently he harbored some craven desire to touch her in a way that she could never return and which he was damned for imagining, even inadvertently? She had opened herself up to him and he had run with it, in a way he'd never experienced before, much less with someone young enough to be his--
No. The only thing to do was to banish it from his mind. Hopefully, his body would follow. She could not know, for to apologize for this in any way was to impose his perverse impulses upon her. He could only hope that it had been a fluke born of too long apart from people, that it was a dream in the way dreams often manifested parallels to truth rather than actual reality. He would forget about it, and she would, soon, become satisfied with what he had to teach and leave. It was the only answer.
Composed at last, he emerged, shields intact though somehow he knew exactly where she was as if his internal compass was now magnetically aligned to her north. At least, he thought, any embarrassment could be interpreted as shame for his behavior the night before. And he'd thought that had been reprehensible. If only he'd known.
"Rey," he nodded stiffly, taking his turn at the basin. What did he say? He could barely look at her, not with his banished thoughts so fresh in his mind, but to run now would be to invite her to follow. And he could not afford to have her ask what was wrong, now.