and again

Never dark.

Padawan Jinn put a bandaged foot out of bed, the floor a shock of smooth cold under newly regrown skin. It didn't hurt to ease himself out from the sheets - what ache was left was inside, a stain on his heart that could not be reached by bacta.

He lay down on the ground, face pressed to the plating, metal slick against thigh, hip and shoulder, and he tried to absorb peace through his skin. If only he were not a boy. If only he were a fallen seed, lying on deep soil, quiet in the night, awaiting the sun. But there was no soil on Coruscant - only dirtier and more desperate levels of emptiness. And it was never dark. The tiny sliver of his window was full of dizzying brilliance, as comforting as burning magnesium.

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~*~