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“How’s your chest?” Alyla asks with her tilted head, remorse for the possible pain clear and plain on her face.
“Feels like someone took a hammer to it, but I’ll cope. I’ll grab some Bacta when I leave.” You reply with a weak, forced smile in an attempt to disarm her unease.
Alyla reaches into a recess of her white waterlogged robes, the robes that cling to her body, the very ones that hug so tightly that you can roughly make out the contours of her form hidden below the cloth. You steal the briefest glance at her chest, almost instantly you steer your eyes away into the sand by your side, pretending that you would never have done such a degenerate action and that your cheeks are not glowing a rosy red. The moment goes either unnoticed or unmentioned. Reluctantly, you gaze up and see the Jedi Knight shake a small cylinder full of a viscous green goop.
“Shirt off,” Alyla commands, with a sternness that would strangle any protest, a sternness that she wears so well with her powerful red eyes and sharp cheekbones.
Without dissent, you open the plain brown standard Jedi Initiate robes to reveal a chest etched with lean yet powerful muscle. Not swelling with brawn, under a modest level of fat, like Luke, but one akin to a swimmer. On your left flank, on what should be nought but pale skin, instead is a large purple bruise. A hiss of worry escapes Alyla’s lips as her face scrunches with regret. Opening the transparent jar and letting the Bacta lackadaisically fall on her hand. Coated with the gunk, her hands rub together, sharing a slime coating.
At first, you grimace when she touches the plum discolouration, a sharp intensification of the pain sparks internally with the slight pressure of her touch. As if touching prized china, she tenderly massages your swelling. Almost instantly, the pain retreats and vanishes, not just the sharp pain caused by her careful caress, but the burning locked deep in your chest. In a short span, your wound is coated with Bacta. Alyla runs a finger exploring the rolling hills of your muscled abdomen, running up and over your breast, until she reaches your chin, holding it so your eyes are locked with hers.
