Saying goodbye on the Moon (D11 EE)

[Moyr Ahaya]

"Whiskey and ash." She raised her brow, rising slowly. "Ponder it as I see to some final matters on the moon. And if it does not dawn on you now, keep watching the in months of 'peace' to come." She nodded, his gaze lingering for a longer moment. "Thank you for the drink."

[Durasay Mixo]

"Thank you for the company." He stood as she did. "I have something for you." Grabbing his trench coat from the chair, he offered it to her. "It's seen me through a few scrapes. And makes it look like you aren't itching for a fight. Not to mention it's good for squirreling away a few things." He laughed slightly, then looking to her.

"When do I get to see you again?" Tilting his head slightly, matching her expression.

[Moyr Ahaya]

"Any particular intention behind this gift? Is it a way to say I am too scantily dressed most of the time?" A flicker of rare mirth in her eyes as she regarded the trenchcoat.

"Eventually, Durasay. And intermittently too." She flcked a small chip and approached him, slipping it into the pocket on the chest of his uniform. "May my voice accompany you at the very least."

[Durasay Mixo]

"I would say you could wear only that and I would be happy." He relished the sense of her approaching, the way she slipped the chip into his uniform. "More that I wanted you to have a piece of me with you." He laughed a bit, then turned serious.

He stepped closer to her, a hand placed at her waist. "Do you remember what you said. How you could end me?" He leaned closer, placing a kiss at her cheek, and then against a cone.

"You already did..."

[Moyr Ahaya]

Unfortunately for him, the deep abdominal wound she had sustained the day before practically prevented any bolder thoughts on her part to originate from his advance. Were they not in a public place, she would have pacified him with the stunner or worse, but now she just begrudgingly admitted that he simply had the audacity to seize an opening, which was not bad as long as she considered him her apprentice.

"On the contrary, I think I've begun you, a man who may have the sustained passion to break all the glass ceilings." Pulling the trenchcoat from his hands, she stepped away to put it on, adjusting the sash to her waist.

[Durasay Mixo]

"It suits you. Not surprised. You were an Independent Logistics Operator." He smiled as he watched her. He would have loved to try and press his advantage, but he knew the footing was unsure.

Patience was a virtue after all.

"It's only through the power of you, and the Force, that my passions will be stoked." He spoke at almost a whisper. He was tempted to see if he could ignite her passions as she had done to him.

But he wanted something honest.

"I'll miss you."

[Moyr Ahaya]

She exhaled, observing him closely as she was checking the pockets of the trenchcoat.

"All is connected through the Force. Your longing knows the medium."

After a pause.

"It'll be an inconvenience to give you guidance from afar, but to give you one without sufficient authority would be a greater one."

[Durasay Mixo]

She'd find the pockets were empty. It had a faint scent of some neutral cologne, but more a slight ozone smell. Nothing unpleasant.

Durasay nodded in agreement, "I do understand that, Red." He slipped his hands into his own pockets, and offered a smile.

"I'm glad we got to say goodbye, like this. And I know your face."