That has to be the most annoying sound in the galaxy. I have made my feelings on the matter clear to everyone, and there is only one person who ever says "yo!" to me, and the reward I get for allowing my name to follow such an annoying monosyllable is… well… amazing. I turn to face the speaker, Luke. My Luke. The Luke I wake up to. The Luke I hold in the middle of the night as he trembles with desire and release. The Luke who just washes my tension away as if it had never been.
"I have to go run my patrol. I'll be back in a few hours, ok?" he says.
"Ok," I reply. "But don't forget it's my lifeday today."
"I won't." he promises with a sly wink that makes me quiver inside. "I have already picked out your gift."
I bet you have, flyboy, I think with an inner smile. And it will be just as much a present for you as it will for me!
A quick peck on the cheek, and he's gone, running towards his taun-taun, adjusting his cold weather gear. I watch him mount it, wheel towards the exit, go out into the swirling snow and ice beyond. The white whirls envelop him, hiding him from my sight. So cold out there.
"Auagghh!" I sit up in bed with a start. I shake with half-imagined cold, cold that penetrates, freezes your bones. Space cold. Hoth cold.
What a nightmare, I think. Luke missing at night, in the open on Hoth.
I reach out to his spot beside me in the bed we share. But the spot is empty. Luke isn't there. It's not a dream. This nightmare is reality. Luke is missing at night, in the open, on Hoth, ice cube of the universe.
Look for the sequel, Found
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