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Feb. 22nd, 2018 06:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hasitLeia can’t watch his execution. She’d thought, for a moment, that she could, but when the time comes, she can’t bring herself to look away from the surface of her podium. There are no tears this time, no sobs; everything in her feels cold and empty and remarkably hollow. She feels alone. And the pool of people who understand her is grown very narrow indeed.
ooo
She almost doesn’t put the coin in the machine, but at this point, she’s just going through the motions. And maybe some masochistic part of her is hoping she’ll get something of his out of the machine. One more thing she can cling to, no matter how much it might hurt.
ooo
Her fingers unfold the square of paper, trembling, and to the casual observer this would only be the expected amount of sad: a photo of two boys, worn and weathered in the creases almost beyond legibility, but they’re clearly twins. Clearly Pines twins, going off their resemblance to Mabel alone. And she knows one of the boys in this picture, but the thing is, she’d know this photo anywhere. She’d know it even if she hadn’t been brought here, even if she’d never fallen in love with Stanley Pines.
A fat teardrop falls onto the photo, and she hastily wipes it away. Her eyes are a thousand lightyears away, in another galaxy, thirty years in the past. Hoth. A man found half-dead in the snow, a man who Leia had once thought might be the love of her life, until he’d had to leave again. To find his own purpose.
The reality hits her across the face harder than any slap, and she doesn’t know how but she’s sitting down all of a sudden, her shoulders shaking with violent sobs as it all washes over her. He’d found her again, they’d found each other, and nobody could blame her for ignoring all the signs when the name wasn’t right, when she’d assumed Sting Pendlebrook had gone off to some other plane of reality. Had died, at some point, he was so much older than her…
She’d found him again. She’d found him, the one that got away, and somehow hadn’t even realized until it was too late. Irony did always like to play a leading role in her life.
She almost doesn’t put the coin in the machine, but at this point, she’s just going through the motions. And maybe some masochistic part of her is hoping she’ll get something of his out of the machine. One more thing she can cling to, no matter how much it might hurt.
Her fingers unfold the square of paper, trembling, and to the casual observer this would only be the expected amount of sad: a photo of two boys, worn and weathered in the creases almost beyond legibility, but they’re clearly twins. Clearly Pines twins, going off their resemblance to Mabel alone. And she knows one of the boys in this picture, but the thing is, she’d know this photo anywhere. She’d know it even if she hadn’t been brought here, even if she’d never fallen in love with Stanley Pines.
A fat teardrop falls onto the photo, and she hastily wipes it away. Her eyes are a thousand lightyears away, in another galaxy, thirty years in the past. Hoth. A man found half-dead in the snow, a man who Leia had once thought might be the love of her life, until he’d had to leave again. To find his own purpose.
The reality hits her across the face harder than any slap, and she doesn’t know how but she’s sitting down all of a sudden, her shoulders shaking with violent sobs as it all washes over her. He’d found her again, they’d found each other, and nobody could blame her for ignoring all the signs when the name wasn’t right, when she’d assumed Sting Pendlebrook had gone off to some other plane of reality. Had died, at some point, he was so much older than her…
She’d found him again. She’d found him, the one that got away, and somehow hadn’t even realized until it was too late. Irony did always like to play a leading role in her life.
