Leia was beginning to hate the word space with a simmering passion.
It was the word that she and everyone used to excuse the fact that both Luke and Han had walked away from everything that used to be home. It was the word that encompassed the vast universe that they were trying to protect from the First Order.
It was a word that was just too damn painful for her to hear sometimes. Oh, she made excuses to those that remained close to her and continued in her own duties, but it was never as easy as she made it appear. When she was alone in the quarters she used to share with her husband, space became a tangible thing that threatened to undo her by the vastness of it.
She felt less alone in a ship screaming across galaxies in the vastness of outer space than she did in the life that she and Han had made together before everything shattered around them. It was one of the few times that she ever wondered what would have happened if they had both made different choices in their pasts.
In their former home, she often wondered if somewhere space was as suffocating to Han right now as it was to her.