Cigarettes & Saints

[Keira Priest]

Shortly after the gathering on Ziost​

​

"Why bother?"​

-"With what?"​

"Caring about people."​

​

It was safe to say emotional attachment was a very new and strange concept to Keira after all that had transpired on that particular night. Numerous ghosts from her past had been dredged up over the course of a long and dwindling even, many of them representing things she would have much rather not remembered, others rekindling old bonds that had nearly been forgotten with the passage of time. One in particular emerged that she was both grateful and disdainful for, an individual that she at once wanted to hold closely and push away, severing all ties, willing herself to forget all that had transpired between them in order to sow the seeds of such a bond in the first place.

As much as she didn't like to so much as think of it, the fact of the matter was [member="Slade Zambrano"] was a difficult one for her to forget. The two understood each other intrinsically despite spending as little time together as possible, or so it seemed, now just reconvening after a year or more apart. There had been a brief stint of sharing living space, but even that hadn't lasted terribly long, what with him leaving one day with no explanation as to why. Any ties had been strenuous at best since then, with neither of them bothering to determine just what had happened to the other, or where they had ended up in the year that followed their living together.

Until that night. Admittedly, no effort had been put forth by either party explicitly to speak again, but they had both been in the same room, and for her that was enough of an invitation. A conversation lasting only minutes had lapsed into nothingness as he attempted to put on a front of apathy and nonchalance, but she saw through that mere seconds after the words passed his lips. Still, he had persisted in leaving and so she had let him be for a time, continuing on with her barely civil trading of thinly veiled insults with the others that had made their presence known. For that period of time he had been left to his own devices, a likely unwise choice.

But even that hadn't lasted forever, and eventually she had located him once the brunt of things had died down. It had taken a bit of maneuvering to get him out of the citadel and to a hotel room, but she had managed, just as she always did. Now he laid on the only bed and she sat in a chair across the room, waiting for him to awaken from his drunken and drugged stupor. As much as she wanted to simply shake him back to consciousness and start with the questions before he was so much as lucid, there was nothing better she had to be doing with her time other than this. Not that everything would remain peaceful for too long.

 

[Slade Zambrano]

Being drunk and high was often a great combination for slade, a sloshing haze combined with the icy tendrils of drugs touching at his veins and pours. It was a mix of chemicals dancing in his system, but sadly all good things went bad. Like a wine that turned sour the man's subconscious began to feel the shift from blissful euphoria to major bodily damage. Being passed out on the bed the man began to shift and squirm slightly his expensive suit wrinkling beneath his back, looks of nausea and twisted facial expressions were plastered onto the man's face until the moment where it happened.

A single wet cough came from the man's mouth, followed by another, and another, and another. This kept going until the vomit of the evenings dinner and booze began to erupt from the man's mouth. Keira had forgotten the first rule of baby sitting drunkards and drug addicts, never leave them on their back. The man began to choke and cough in his knocked out state and was probably going to head out the way of the greats. Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll that was the life Slade lived and loathed and it seemed that this would be one of the many times it would try to snatch him up and take him into the dark.

It was up to [member="Keira Ticon"] now whether she wanted Slade to live or die. He wasn't waking up anytime soon and the vomit he was caught in his wind pipe was most definitely going to kill him unless someone intervened and placed him on his side. How much did the woman care about slade? How much was she willing to expose herself emotionally for a man who seemed to love drugs more than he loved her, for someone who was a coward, a liar, and a traitor. Was that love? The willingness to expose yourself and help for someone who was beneath you, was it unconditional?

 

[Keira Priest]

"Itiohul." Despite the feelings Keira still wasn't certain of that resided within her for this man, she couldn't help the muttered insult that fell past her lips. Still, she would come to his aid as she always did for reasons still dubious in her mind. With minor effort she rolled him onto his side, clapping him firmly twice on the back in order to dislodge any bile that may have been caught more firmly in his windpipe. Without fuss she retrieved a few towels in order to clean up what she could in a rather makeshift manner, rolling that one up and setting it to the side, laying another out as a precaution. That would suffice for the time being, but she knew a closer eye would have to be kept on him than what had been previously.

A simple shift of the hand prodded the chair to slide across the room, and once more she sat down, this time at his bedside. Now again they were back to the waiting game, one she had played far too many times in her life to find any real enjoyment with it at this point. Right now she wanted him awake as a sign that he was one step closer to not dying, at least. Anything else would be worked toward in time. Running her hands through her hair she sighed quietly, focusing momentarily in order to give him a telepathic nudge that would hopefully bring him one step closer to alertness. There was no time like the present.

[member="Slade Zambrano"]

 

[Slade Zambrano]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

Slade was released from the jaws of death and his eyes slowly opened to a familiar sight, a crappy hotel room with Keira by bed. Or was the familiar sight a hospital bed? Either way, it was something that Slade was familiar with. The man slowly sat up and placed his face in the palm of his hands, he tasted vomit and bile in his mouth and coughed a bit. He knew Keira was there, he didn't even need the force to sense her, he just knew her familiar and comforting presence.

He didn't know what to say, he couldn't say what he wanted to. So standing up he stumbled his way past her and into the bathroom, she would understand that he just needed a moment to put his mask back on. Not that there was much left of it these days, he was just slowly fading away these days into obscurity and drug addiction. So closing the door behind him and locking it the bastard Zambrano looked into the bathroom mirror and saw what was looking back. A waste.

"What are you looking at." He said to himself before turning a faucet on.

Cold water poured down from the pipes and the man reached down and heard a clunking noise when his wrist hit the sink. His mind traced back and he knew what it was, it was his gun. The concealed handgun that you always bring to a party. His head rushed and he activated the little spring activated pistol, extending out from his wrist the pistol formed in his hand and he stared at it for a moment before looking back up into the mirror.

He saw his blood red eyes, the vomit on his shirt and chin, Keira had just saved his life for what seemed like the thousandth time and the only thing he felt was regret. Regret that no matter how far he distanced himself from her the universe always brought them back together, that no matter what he was always going to hurt her. So taking the gun Slade closed his eyes and placed it in his mouth, and then he pulled the trigger.

The gun clacked with a malfunction and the amount of adrenaline and emotions consumed Slade and caused him to collapse on the ground. Keira would hear a thump from the outside if she ventured inside she'd find a passed out Slade with a gun in his hand.

 

[Keira Priest]

As much as Keira wanted to immediately pursue him when he made headway for the bathroom she instead let him have this moment of reprieve to collect his own thoughts and conjure up yet another mask of apathy that was so achingly familiar to her own. Just as those before this one would be broken in turn, but she knew the gesture was what counted in the end. At least then you could say an effort had been made. Both of them had been putting faces on for so long that genuinely expressing emotion came as a true difficulty. Ironically enough, however, it was that very same emotion they brought out in each other, however unwillingly and begrudgingly it emerged from that hardened shell.

Almost immediately she regretted her decision to allow him some alone time as the unmistakable thud of a limp body hitting the floor registered even with the barrier between them. Just as quickly she was on her feet, making quick work of the door after discovering it was locked, instinctively searching his form for any sign of injury before disassembling the pistol into its decidedly less lethal components as she had been taught by Lusk himself. It was then she lifted him up, channeling the Force so as to augment her strength, once again laying him down on the bed, this time on his side as a precautionary measure. There would be no further near-death experiences if she could help it.

Instead of attempting to rouse him she merely quietly observed, mottled blue and amber eyes taking in his unconscious form and yet staring off into nothing all at once. She hated that she cared about him, but at the same time she wouldn't change any of it for the galaxy itself. This was painful in a manner she wasn't adapted to, but it was better than feeling nothing. Well, sometimes it was. "Feck it." Stifling a sigh she produced both a cigarette and a lighter, raising the latter to her lips once its tip had turned to a smoldering ember, drawing smoke into her lungs and exhaling a grey cloud shortly after. Come on, Slade. You're better than this now. Or, he used to be.

[member="Slade Zambrano"]

 

[Slade Zambrano]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

Slade's nose twitched a bit at the smell of a cigarette, and his unconscious mind needed to feed the addiction that was nicotine. So with his red and tear stained eyes opening he reached up and gently plucked the cigarette from Keira's mouth and took a long drag from it before passing it back to the woman.

Holding in the smoke for a moment Slade exhaled grey smoke and then took in a deep breath. He didn't know what to say really, what could he say? I tried to kill myself to keep me from hurting you, sorry not sorry. There was just so much to say yet he didn't want to say anything at all. But reaching deep down he decided there were no words to say, only actions.

Turning around so his chin would be on her thigh he bolted forward and wrapped his arms around her stomach tight. With his head against her upper stomach tears ran down his face staining her shirt as he connected with the woman he loved with all his heart. He wanted to yell how sorry he was but there was only sobbing that left his mouth, he needed her forgiveness and her affection or he wouldn't know what to do with himself, he needed to know everything was going to be ok.

He remained like that for a while, simply holding on to her and crying. Slade was broken as a person, really the only time he felt whole and complete was when he was with Keira. She was what made him smile and even though at times he had chosen drugs over her, there was never a day where he didn't regret his choices. Not a single day.

 

[Keira Priest]

The only real emotion Keira clung to at first was an overreaching and all-encompassing awkwardness at the display and an uncertainty of just how to properly respond. In her lifetime of twenty-six years she had shed tears only a handful of times, if that, and had never witnessed the same from others. So she only offered what she would have willed from another in the same scenario, her actions hesitant only because of a want to do things correctly. Slowly she pulled him out of her lap and up into her arms, allowing him to rest his head in the crook of her shoulder, reaching up to gently cradle the back of his head as she held him. No words were put forth as none were necessary, their actions speaking for themselves.

Still the cigarette remained at the corner of her mouth, the only familiarity offered in these moments. What she eventually recognized as tears cut warm trails down her face, inadvertently smudging what makeup she wore about her eyes. After a few minutes she pulled back so the two could look at each other, taking another drag and blowing a cloud of smoke to the side. The acidic taint was one of the singular things allowing her to keep a clear head. "I know it's hard." The both of them were aware of that fact more than anything. "It hurts, in worse ways than most people can imagine." It was always the psychological factors that took a greater toll, something they were an example of.

"But I'm here for you, Slade. I always was and I always will be." To dub their relationship dysfunctional would be an understatement, but beneath all of their personal issues there was a bond that ran deeper than most, if either of them were willing to acknowledge it to begin with. "You're not in this one alone. I don't know why you always think that." But she did. She understood his frame of mind because once upon a time she had thought the same, and in some instances still did. "But I'm here." The cigarette was passed to him, an offer of friendship and something more. "Okay?" She looked to him, the corners of her mouth turning up in a gesture that alluded to a smile. "I'm here."

[member="Slade Zambrano"]

 

[Slade Zambrano]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

Slade felt her comfort and care and it really only made him cry a bit more knowing that she still cared enough to hold him, that after the massive nerf herder that he was to her she still wanted to be around him. As his warm tears ran down her shoulder and stained her shirt he held her tighter in his arms and for once in a long time he felt human again. No need for drugs, drinking, whatever the vice was there was just a singular need and that was Keira.

When she started to speak Slade's heart dropped out of him and he felt like sobbing from what she was saying. She was there for him and always would be. For the first time in his life there was a constant in his life and that was her, it was having her around and having her be there for him. He wanted to sob intensely at her words but then the two looked into each other's eyes and she could see that she was crying as well, and to him that was something he would never want to see. She deserved to be happy and in that moment when walls and barriers were coming down the man placed his hands on her cheeks.

"I hate it when you cry, you know that." He said with s sniffle and tear running down his own cheek.

With his hands on her face he gently wiped at her tears and smudged her make up creating a smokey effect around her eyes. With her tears gone he looked at her with nothing but love in his eyes and a slight smile on his face.

"There, now you're perfect." He said as his smile began to fade a bit.

As his face grew more neutral his heart raced and he needed her, he needed her in a way that he had never had before, in a way that he had always wanted her but was always too scared to do anything about, and the universe told him it was time. With his right hand he gently plucked the cigarette out of her mouth and slowly set it on the night table.

He stared into her beautiful mixed eyes and slowly pushed forward until his lips met hers kissing her gently within the confines of the hotel room.

 

[Keira Priest]

Perfect was never a word Keira would have used to describe herself. It had always been meant for other, better people, individuals that were doing something more with their lives other than surviving and attempting to do good in the galaxy on occasion. It was a word for other things, far more beautiful things, not broken people hellbent on their own self-destruction. But when those two syllables fell past his lips they somehow felt natural, as if nothing else was quite as synonymous with her existence. Tears threatened to spill all over again, but his gentle touch caused all thoughts to cease, her self-doubt melting away in those seconds that they met each others eyes, what commentary that would have been on her lips escaping her.

Physical affection was at the best of times a strange anomaly, oftentimes earning a violent retaliation on her part in the instances it was unwarranted, which included the majority. But when he kissed her she forgot all about being hurt, about all of the times she had been left with nothing and no one, because he made up for all of that. Somehow this one gesture put all of her pieces back together exactly where they belonged, and she didn't want it to end. Because she knew it did the same for him, and though she wasn't ready to admit it just yet, she cared about his life and happiness far more than she would ever care about her own, and that alone was terrifying.

With one hand she had reached up to cup his jaw, finding solace in the simple fact that he was there with her, sharing this intimate moment. But all good things had to come to an end, and slowly she drew back, the stone wall that resided behind her eyes having crumbled to its very foundations. Without a thought she initiated another embrace, moving just as cautiously as he had, not wanting to overstep her bounds but at once knowing none existed to cross any longer. Just as the first had that one ended similarly, a slow smile drawing across her lips. That hardened warrior had been reduced to one encapsulated in their own feelings for another in the span of a heartbeat, and she didn't want to go back. Only three words were spoken, three syllables that held a weight behind them he was helping her to recognize. "Mi larelk valle." I love you.

[member="Slade Zambrano"]

 

[Slade Zambrano]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

Slade felt her lips on his and it was heaven on earth, fireworks were going off in his brain and endorphins rushed through his blood. Biology was taking over and it was telling him that Keira was a very suitable partner in which to breed with. But science could take the back seat for this one, Slade just wanted to be with this woman until the managers through them out of the room for lack of payment on the bill. But the kiss broke and Slade stared into her eyes and felt her hand on his face. Curling his head onto her hand to be closer to her he felt the comfort of her embrace once more.

Then she spoke those three little words in old Corellian, in truth he had no idea what they meant in spoken word, but spiritually he knew exactly what she had said. And he felt the same, it was something he was so afraid to feel or didn't understand how to feel and process, but when he was with her, when he heard those words he knew how it felt to love.

"I love you too." He said as his heart began to pound rapidly through his chest.

He wanted more though, he wanted her in every sense of the word. He needed her right now and he was almost certain she wanted him as well. But Keira wasn't like any of the other women, she wasn't some high class escort or bar floozie. He loved her.

"I've waited so long to hear that." He said as he wrapped his arms around her back and placing his head and mouth on her neck.

Breathing his warm breath onto her neck he could smell her, almost taste her. Her essence was that of cigarettes, expensive alcohol, and mixed perfumes and cologne from the party they had attended. It was intoxicating and it only made him wish they had said this to one another sooner.

"I'm so sorry I left, you deserved so much better from me." He said then gave a warm kiss to her neck.

 

[Keira Priest]

The sensation of another exploring her body in the most intimate manner was at once a foreign yet pleasurable experience, and Keira knew she wanted to be as close to him as was physically possible. As whenever she became wrapped up in her own emotions any potential consequences meant nothing, and she had driven any possibility of something detrimental occurring, no matter how microscopic the chance, from her mind completely. All that mattered now was that she had found a home, or the closest thing to it, in the man she was currently with. He gave her a meaning that ran far deeper than her fighting prowess, and it was something she would never not be thankful for.

"You talk too much." A statement that had often been applied to her countless time previously. But she was more than happy to allow actions to take precedence over words this time around. Slowly she drew his head back up so their lips could meet once more, her teeth grazing just slightly against his lower lip. Deep down she knew this was someone she would never be able to let go entirely. No matter the distance that separated them it was clear the galaxy would always bring them close when either was dangerously close to their breaking point, and she decided that she didn't really mind that. Not so long as he was the one she was able to confide in. Her heart would always find him.

Her head curled into the crook of his neck, and she pressed her own kisses to the skin there, snaking her fingers into the spaces between his own, squeezing his hand gently. "Please stay with me." Most every relationship in her life, regardless of what label it fit under, had been a fleeting experience save for a scant few. And this was one she wanted to last longer than anything ever had before, no matter what it took. "I don't want you to leave. Please stay." He made everything right just by his simple presence.

[member="Slade Zambrano"]

 

[Slade Zambrano]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

Slade felt peace, for the first time in a very very long time, he felt comfortable in his own skin. He felt that everything was going to be ok and it was Keira who made him feel that way. He'd been running and chasing drugs for so long he'd been blind to what truly made him happy, and that was her. From her cybernetic arm, to her multiple scars across her body she was perfect. She wasn't some bimbo super model, or high class escort that only saw his money or youth, she was a real person who loved him despite how bad he had messed up and how he had hurt her by leaving. Though she'd never admit it, he knew that his absence and sudden vanishing might of taken a toll on her already hurt psyche. So if there was one thing Slade wasn't going to do anymore it was leave, he wasn't going to leave her.

"I'm not going anywhere." Slade said as he took her head in his hands.

Their lips reunited once more and soon he had laid down beside her in the bed, holding her tight with his arms now around her, kissing and loving every part of her and the time they now had together. Slade began to slowly pull out the buttons on his shirt as he realized that this was it, the years they had known each other, the romantic tension and slight wanting. It lead up to this moment, in this hotel room, after that crappy party. The man kissed her deep and hard as his shirt came off and undone.

"I need you, right now. More than I've ever needed anything." He said to her after a long kiss.

And there was so much truth to that, he needed her now more than ever. More than he needed drugs, more than booze or loose women. He needed her like bird needed to fly or a fish needed to swim. She was his, and he was hers, there was nothing else really to it but that and he felt that they both knew it in this moment they shared.