Mine
MINE
"Mine!"
He has said this many times in the heat of passion.
"Mine! You give this to no one but me!"
"Mine! You belong only to me!"
But as he watches her, holding a holo, curled in a fetal position on the bed formerly belonging to her roommate, her close friend, her body trembling, trying to hold back the sobs that are so close to surfacing, he realizes that "Mine" means so much more than possession. Her soul is his to protect, care for, to nourish. Her heart is his to heal when broken. Her pain was now his pain.
He thinks, "Mine." He picks her up onto his lap and draws her close to his chest as he whispers, "What do you need, k’hat’n’ dlawa?"