What had happened?

You know what happened.

A weathered hand ran through his graying hair as his eyes slowly opened, the white light of the moon penetrating the glass on the other side of the room. The white sheets of the bed cascaded and fell like the Great Desert. The old man drew a weary breath as the pain set in.

It was rare for the old man to receive hangovers, he drank so much his body had become accustomed to the copious amounts of drink he ingested on a regular basis. But this time, whatever that whiskey was that Danger had let him drink, well. It left him defenseless.

Don't make excuses.

Looking to his side he knew he wasn't on Mandalore. Quite the contrary in fact. He was still on Tatooine in a suite procured through Danger's company where he had been...Taken care of during his black out. He had awoken to the sensation of war water running down his scarred back in a large tub. The details were still blurry.

You know what you've done.

A companion, he hadn't gotten her name, as beautiful as she was graceful washed away what felt like decades of pain. On the table her delicate fingers eased the insecurities and tension from his body, and her words brought them to a union that would remain in the old man's mind forever.

Just like we were supposed to be.

His eyes falling to the sleeping figure of the companion, her lithe body rising and falling slowly. Eyes narrowed ever so slightly his thumb rubbed the bare shoulder of the woman as she rested, her head on his own bare chest, rising and falling with his own steady breath.

You betrayed her.

Rising, his movement stirred the young woman from her slumber, beautiful brown eyes looked up to him, worry and compassion filling them. They had spoken quite a bit. About his family, his wife and daughter, of the guilt that plagued him. He felt her presence, now familiar after the events a few hours ago. She attempted to bring peace to the tormented soul, but he pushed her out. Closed off his mind, something Ember had insisted he learn to do.

Why did you let her in?

He could feel it. The hurt. He could feel it in the way her body suddenly tensed up and retreated from his own. He looked away, several powerful emotions filling his chest, but not enough to fill the hole.

The hole you created out with your own hands.

His lower body slid out from under the covers over the edge of the bed, his bare feet meeting the cold ceramic floor. She watched as he dressed, a fresh set of clothes brought in by the companion. He clenched his jaw. He felt like he should say something. To both of them, his wife and the companion. He decided it better to leave it as it was.

You traitor.

Collecting his belongings he made his way to the door, his rough hands gripping the bronze handle and he was stopped. Stopped by the serene, calming voice of the woman he left behind.

"My(Her) name(name) is(is) Noire(Noire)."

The familiar voice of his late wife merged with that of the companion's. He felt the lump well up in his throat and with that he left.