Delusions of Grandeur

"Vader?" I said.

"I should break your neck!" he hissed in that low whisper again. He hardly sounded monstrous. From what I had discovered before, I knew his throat was damaged so a whisper was all he could manage. But his tone, that was the same.

"Let me up!" I cried.

"I don't think so."

"I can't breathe," I lied.

He moved his arm so I lift my face up just fraction, still holding my neck tightly. All I could see was the chair and his leg.

"Let me up! I won't look!"

"No."

I heard him messing with something. "What are you doing?"

"Fixing what you broke," Vader whispered.

I reached back up. His head was turned so I got his cheek. My hand was batted away.

"Stop touching me!"

"Why? You think scars bother me? I've seen worse, you know." I asked. No answer to that. "Turn the chair around or something but let me up! You're killing my knees and my neck! Besides this position looks BAD!"

Vader's next move surprised me. He let go of my neck and spun the chair. I went sprawling backward on my backside. Mind minding the pain, I jerked my head up and jumped to my feet, rubbing said backside. His back was too me but I could see the back of his head!

I silently sucked in my breath. First off let me point out, Vader's scars, on the back of his head at least, are not as bad he thinks. Well, one is. There was deep impression as if some had gone digging in his skull. That was one rough to see. But the rest were pale and faint. With tuffs of blonde hairs growing randomly in patches.

I took a stepped closer to him. I could see over his shoulders but not see his face. Thought hit me: he really was a person under all that armor. I reached out and touched a strand of short hair. It was soft under my fingertips. Force help me, I wanted to see his face now!

Vader lifted his hand, reading my thoughts. "If you dare come around this chair, I'll backhand you back to the past with the Force!"

"Nice," I muttered.

Vader unhooked his cape. When it dropped I see the edge of his shoulder armor and most of his neck. He was muttering and moving around. Lifting a long, shiny tool, he started adjusting the piece of his mask I had damaged.

"Can you fix it?" I asked.

"Yes. This not the first time it’s been damaged," he replied.

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," I whispered, feeling bad.

He froze at my words, as if they startled him or something.

TBC