[He'll think about the fact that she's met Leia as well when she's ready to say it. For now, the kiss grounds him further, and it allows him to forget what's on his mind for the moments it takes him to kiss her back and run his flesh hand over her cheek and into her hair.

He moves at her command when they separate, practically carrying her to the couch as he goes. When he finally settles down, keeping her as close as she allows, he suddenly has trouble finding the words. He has so many things he needs to describe, so many emotions to try and work through, that he doesn't know where to begin. It takes him a minute or two of biting his lip and looking at the pattern on their rug to finally decide.]

She said I should be dead. I don't know how she meant it, but...

[He shakes his head, dragging his eyes back up to look at his wife properly. He doesn't know how to explain the tone in their daughter's voice at that moment, but he hopes his attempts get the point across.]

She wasn't pleased to find out that it was me she was speaking to.