“I don’t think you’re delicate.” Leia sighed, defeatedly. She knew Han was strong, he’d just moved her after all and she’d seen the older Han in action. But those were excuses that had been trained into her. Han had his work cut out for him in trumping those teachings.

His grin suggested he wasn’t insulted by it, something sparkling in his eyes making her wonder just what he was thinking, and why the not knowing was so exciting to her.

“Good.” Leia said quietly when he set her fears to rest, but he doubled down on that with a continued statement at her ear. Warmth bathed her ear and part of her neck and made the words a bit hard to pay much attention to, she understood he was giving her an out should she chose it. But how could she even consider that when he’d given her goose-flesh just by talking? “And if I don’t?” Her voice was a whisper, heady sensations keeping that flush to her cheeks, her fingers curled in a tight grip on his shoulder. “Don’t want you to stop?”