The inevitability of another ending spread like ice through Matt’s veins. Ice, and the sinking feeling of withdrawal. It was always over too soon. This kiss. The last one. Before, when they were a we, an us. When the end of a kiss was merely a temporary separation, never a permanent one. This interruption was a convenient sideways target of the ricocheting turmoil inside him, distracting him momentarily from the profound sense of mourning for a moment that was already gone. He glared in the direction of Gabe’s voice to avoid meeting Lydia’s eyes and the sad acceptance he knew he’d find reflected back at him.
She unfroze before he did. The first sign of loss, her hand gently leaving his collar, triggered an involuntary response in his fingers on her thighs. A twitching grip that said don’t go, not yet, not ever. But she had to. He couldn’t keep her.
This could never last.
Another threat against Gabe’s continued survival died in his throat at her too tender touch to his face. It was only then that he finally looked back at her, chasing her touch before it left, head following heavy eyes. He wasn’t sure what was worse, not knowing whether she felt the end of this moment as acutely as he did or seeing it confirmed in the sad slant of her mouth. But why bother choosing? All of it was horrible. All of it emptied him out.
He remained uncharacteristically quiet as she elegantly extracted herself from their compromising position. Couldn’t help but watch her with no small amount of admiration at the way her composure slipped back into place, as if she’d never let herself shed it at all. The picture wasn’t perfect, though. The remnants of their broken reprieve lingered in her heat-blushed cheeks and whitening knuckles gripping her coat. The sight awakened a familiar conflict in his chest, torn between wishing he didn’t affect her like this and wishing he affected her more. He never could make up his mind about that.
Gabe’s deliberate stomping down the corridor brought Matt back to himself. He stood, mentally shaking himself off. By the time Gabe entered and shot him a suspicious look, Matt was ready for it, arms crossed and half-leaning against the end of the dejarik booth. He sent back a narrow-eyed glare he knew Gabe would be expecting, but there wasn’t much malice behind it. Maybe he’d be able to summon up the necessary ire later when he confronted Gabe about who exactly was allowed to come aboard his ship unannounced. Maybe he’d just let it go. Stranger things had happened.
Catching Lydia’s backward glance, Matt bit the inside of his lip and nodded once, slowly. Daniel’s offer. Hell, he’d already forgotten, and would have preferred not to remember if she hadn’t brought it up again. He knew his answer wouldn’t change. She probably did, too. Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? If he was capable of change, he would’ve done it already.
With practiced smoothness, Matt pushed off on his heels and turned for the interior of the Falcon. Away from the two people who knew him best and saw more than he wanted. Away from where he’d have to be the one to watch her go for once, hating every second of it. At least he hated this exit a little less. He half-turned his neck, swiping a two-fingered salute from his brow, but didn’t look all the way back. “Yeah, alright. So long, Princess.”
And then he was out of sight, and it was over. But Matt still couldn’t breathe any easier, and wouldn’t for a long time.