They hadn’t discussed those moments, not in a very long time, and never with more than an oblique reference, but they were never very far away from the other’s mind, especially when they were together. []
Avar stopped. [] She held out her hand. []
The look she gave him was like that sea he found inside himself, the Force, deep and endless and impossible to fully comprehend.
You could drown in it.
“We are Jedi,” he said.
“We are,” she replied.
~
He leapt from the bed, screwing up his face as he realized he was naked. Ashla’s Light, how could he have been so stupid? []
He pulled the jerkin over his head, recalling the touch of her lips on the reception balcony, the sudden yearning that had enveloped him as she had pulled him closer, their bodies crushing together. He had no real memory of getting back to her apartment, crashing through the door, their hands exploring, caressing, pulling at the many layers the Order insisted its Jedi wear… for very good reason, it seemed. []
Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. []
He pulled his pants over one leg and hopped to the bedside table where his chrono lay. A glance at the digital readout brought another stream of expletives, most just as unworthy of a Jedi as the act he had enjoyed last night… acts, plural… Samera’s velvet skin so soft, her breath so warm against his neck.
“Not helping,” he told himself.
~
Listen, I know how this will end.
Remorse, despair, even glances to the dark side, and yadda yadda.
Framed in this mental construction that romantic love —Avar, ethereal, unreachable, forbidden— is *always* intrinsically superior to all the one-night stands in the galaxy.
But, really? Can we, for a second, stop and admit that sex is, for many, a part of life?
That, even if it is blatantly true that not everyone experiences a physical attraction, it might exist, and simply ignoring it does not make it less real?
That forced restraint is perhaps not the solution, but acknowledging and balancing one's true desires is?
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