[ Relief floods her as two arms close around her from behind, and Rey leans away from the hyperdrive and reaches up to hold him there, eyes shut. Every inch of her covered still by her scavenging gear, she is able to hide the pain in her expression. It's a pain that comes from fear and guilt — that she should be so attached to this though it's so brief, that he would need to forget what he was doing and cradle her.
She turns and throws herself into his arms, pulling him against her. It's just them now; no Luke, no darkness. One hand lets go of him to pull her mask away — goggles first, then nose and mouth cover, and she does it so she can burrow her face against his neck.
No visions this time. Just their breathing, amplified, funneled and twisted through the Force. Like this moment between the two of them is hyperreal, defined by their contact. It's an addictive thing. She had gone so long without anyone, so long without touch. He was the first one in — in years. She aches for it now, sorry for his gloves, glad for the strip of skin at his neck, poking above his collar.
She's greedy. Greedy and starved. And though his presence, his light, chases the darkness away for the moment, its roots are chased deeper into her, curling and hooking in.
She has something to lose now. ]
It's alright. [ She runs her hand over his back, as though she needs to reassure him. ] I'm okay. Really. I — [ Why is he holding her? Hadn't he — Isn't he afraid of that darkness too? Isn't that why he's telling someone about her? Figuring out what should be done with her? Shuddering, wide-eyed and fearful, she pulls back to look up at him. She doesn't know how to put it to words, not quite, but she wrestles and — ] Did I do something wrong?
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She turns and throws herself into his arms, pulling him against her. It's just them now; no Luke, no darkness. One hand lets go of him to pull her mask away — goggles first, then nose and mouth cover, and she does it so she can burrow her face against his neck.
No visions this time. Just their breathing, amplified, funneled and twisted through the Force. Like this moment between the two of them is hyperreal, defined by their contact. It's an addictive thing. She had gone so long without anyone, so long without touch. He was the first one in — in years. She aches for it now, sorry for his gloves, glad for the strip of skin at his neck, poking above his collar.
She's greedy. Greedy and starved. And though his presence, his light, chases the darkness away for the moment, its roots are chased deeper into her, curling and hooking in.
She has something to lose now. ]
It's alright. [ She runs her hand over his back, as though she needs to reassure him. ] I'm okay. Really. I — [ Why is he holding her? Hadn't he — Isn't he afraid of that darkness too? Isn't that why he's telling someone about her? Figuring out what should be done with her? Shuddering, wide-eyed and fearful, she pulls back to look up at him. She doesn't know how to put it to words, not quite, but she wrestles and — ] Did I do something wrong?