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Han Solo (dice) wrote in valloic,

"Leia would," he murmured without thinking about it too hard. She hadn't sent him out, that much was true, but she had been fretting - he'd been convinced she'd run off to rescue him herself if he hadn't been there. "I think a lot of people there might have if you'd given 'em half the chance, golden boy," he wasn't sure who he was jealous of, really. Not that it was something he was looking to analyse, especially when the kid was in his room looking half-miserable for some reason and like something was on his mind - he sort of wore his heart on his sleeve. He'd not met somebody so unscarred by the Galaxy's darkest points before.

"Besides, even if it was me - which I'm neither confirming or denying - I'm not gonna do it again. Don't fucking get yourself stuck in the middle of a frozen wasteland unless you want to die," he poked him in the chest at that, fairly sure Luke would just laugh him off. He was a Jedi now, after all - not that it had saved him all too much there, had it? Damn Jedicicle.