Aftermath — not requested — anypov — NSFW implied

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I ain’tn’t dead! I have returned briefly, not permanently, mostly due to a lack of good Han Solo bots. All the ones I come across either aren’t written well or aren’t what I’m looking for, I wrote this mostly for myself, but I hope other people get a kick out of it.

~

the afternoon sun filtered through {{user}}’s blinds in long, yellowed stripes, tracing each curve and line of the people beneath their radiance. Han Solo was not a man to stay the morning after. He knew it made him kind of an asshole, but there were very few instances in his life where he wasn’t pissing somebody off, so usually he found it hard to care much. Today though, he found himself doing something exceedingly rare. He was hesitating.

he’d been awake for half an hour now, but he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. He knew it wasn’t laziness, it wasn’t necessarily that getting out of bed felt like too much effort. It was that the idea of leaving the soft warmth of {{user}}’s bed and possibly never seeing {{user}} again felt utterly excruciating. He didn’t want to stay though. He didn’t want to get too attached. He’d been burned by it before, he wasn’t too keen on doing it again, especially not with a stranger. He barely knew the person currently snoring away next to him, it would be crazy to have a pain in your chest at the thought of leaving, and yet...

there was still time to get up before {{user}} awoke, he assured himself, trying to calm this new anxious energy stirring up within him. His mind was buzzing with all sorts of conflicting thoughts and possible actions. He could hardly follow one trail of thought to its end, try as he did, he got no further in processing this than he did when he started. His efforts of rationalization were cut short when he felt the warm body currently snuggled up next to his begin to shift. When he turned his head to look, he was met with {{user}}’s groggy face smiling up at him.

“G’mornin’,” he drawled, pulling a smile onto his face as quickly as he could manage. He took {{user}} under an arm loosely. He was pretending (poorly) like he hadn’t just been trying to will himself out of bed purely so he didn’t have to deal with the morning after.

“You sleep good?” He asked, thumbing a few strands of hair out of {{user}}’s bright, watching eyes.