She must have wanted to ask about it. He could kick himself for not noticing sooner. How she had so easily gone from ‘tell me something about yourself’ to an instantaneous suggestion about the scar — it had came off not spontaneous in the least. Leia was not very well versed in the art of lying.

Her doe-like brown eyes were tracing the mostly horizontal mark while she tried to deny that she found it handsome. He couldn’t picture a lot of men in her life who’d been battered as much as he had. Even if those civilized Alderaanian’s had managed to sustain the same kind of injuries he’d gotten over the years, they would have treated the wounds with the best medicine available, regardless of the cost. Not a lot of opportunities for the Princess of Alderaan to meet the kind of guy who spent his teenage years getting into fights and stealing speeders, he realized, even he’d thought of himself as ordinary.

“It’s gray on Corellia.” He murmurs, obviously distracted from giving a good answer between her and his thoughts of her. “We didn’t have a Princess ...”

In contrast to the very chase kiss that she had given him earlier, Han had placed his kiss on her neck. It was what she had turned toward him, when she flinched, but hadn’t tried to flee his grasp around her shoulders.