[ The first clue that Rey has it bad is in the fact that he keeps touching her and she keeps letting him. Not slapping him away, not bristling, not getting ready for a fight. In fact, she doesn't even raise her hackles. Perhaps because in the back of her mind, she can feel his intent, and she knows not to be afraid of him. The rest of the world can mean her harm, but she can feel Ben Solo's intent, and he would only protect her.
What he says, then, only puts voice to this thing that they have not otherwise proven able to substantiate and define. She whips around to look up at him, and her eyes go soft and wide and glassy as he makes this declaration that's more insistent upon her value than anything she's ever heard in her life. What he says makes it painfully clear that his concern is with keeping her company, whatever it takes.
She's never been anyone's priority before.
Something claws its way up her throat. It's the sort of panic that emerges from not knowing how to react because it's just so much that he dumps at her feet. For a moment, she even thinks he might kiss her. This is usually when people kiss. That's the look, the feeling, the kind of thing they say. She's sure of that because she's heard stories.
Except he doesn't kiss her. In fact, his mouth looks set in a firm, imploring line of a desperate man. The thought of her staying here, she realizes, scares him. It scares him because he'll lose her, and he can't stand the idea of leaving her behind.
(Like her parents did.)
There's the rest too, of course. There's the fact that she's never been offered a fair wage and a reasonable job and a place where she feels safe like she has felt safe on the Falcon. All the things he has brought into her life with him, he offers those too. She'd be a fool to refuse it — especially when he has offered her the only thing she is missing here, a path to her parents.
It's a good thing he's holding that hyperdrive component or she'd be hugging him right now. And that'd be a bad path to go down in the dim corners of a husk of a light freighter. Slowly, wetting dry lips, she nods. ]
Okay. [ A beat. ] I'll come.
[ A lame finish to his declaration. But it's a big deal for her. Monumental. ]
YES you absolutely should
What he says, then, only puts voice to this thing that they have not otherwise proven able to substantiate and define. She whips around to look up at him, and her eyes go soft and wide and glassy as he makes this declaration that's more insistent upon her value than anything she's ever heard in her life. What he says makes it painfully clear that his concern is with keeping her company, whatever it takes.
She's never been anyone's priority before.
Something claws its way up her throat. It's the sort of panic that emerges from not knowing how to react because it's just so much that he dumps at her feet. For a moment, she even thinks he might kiss her. This is usually when people kiss. That's the look, the feeling, the kind of thing they say. She's sure of that because she's heard stories.
Except he doesn't kiss her. In fact, his mouth looks set in a firm, imploring line of a desperate man. The thought of her staying here, she realizes, scares him. It scares him because he'll lose her, and he can't stand the idea of leaving her behind.
(Like her parents did.)
There's the rest too, of course. There's the fact that she's never been offered a fair wage and a reasonable job and a place where she feels safe like she has felt safe on the Falcon. All the things he has brought into her life with him, he offers those too. She'd be a fool to refuse it — especially when he has offered her the only thing she is missing here, a path to her parents.
It's a good thing he's holding that hyperdrive component or she'd be hugging him right now. And that'd be a bad path to go down in the dim corners of a husk of a light freighter. Slowly, wetting dry lips, she nods. ]
Okay. [ A beat. ] I'll come.
[ A lame finish to his declaration. But it's a big deal for her. Monumental. ]