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Rey was undressing when the door slid open. She paused, her hands stilling on the hem of her tunic where it rose above her hips.
“Don’t stop on my account.”
Him.
She breathed out, and pulled the fabric over her head, letting it hit the floor. Familiar footsteps led to familiar hands on her hips, then wrapped around her waist. She reached back to cradle his cheek, her fingers grazing over the scar. It was one that he kept, one that she’d given to him.
Without being asked, he took his gloves off and handed them over. She held them, standing still as his fingers went up to her hair. He made gentle work of undoing the style she typically wore it in, until her brown hair hung loose past her shoulders. He brushed it back over her shoulder, his fingertips lingering, and kissed the nape of her neck.
She could feel, as surely as she could feel the warm press of his lips, the heavy weight he carried. It never lifted, not in all of the time that she had come to really know him.
“Ben,” She whispered. Finally, he exhaled. He was softer, even if it was just for now.
They didn’t need to talk. In fact, it was an unspoken rule that whatever happened on the other side of the door had no place here. What little time they had together like this wouldn’t be wasted.
When she was just left in her underclothes, she sat down on the bed. Wordlessly, he sat down stiffly. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and slowly he lay down. His head rested in her lap, and his eyes closed.
It was her turn to put her hands in his hair.
It was amazing, how a series of simple touches could turn him into someone unrecognizable. Someone so at ease, someone unburdened by every little pain that had been inflicted on him, and all of the many he’d been the cause of.
Knowing what they both knew, it was hard to love him. Knowing him the way he was now, it was even harder to imagine a time when she hated him.
“Has anyone else ever done this for you?” She murmured, circling his temples.
It was a disguised question, and they both knew it. They both knew the answer, but Rey still liked to hear it in his voice, spoken aloud instead of just between them. It could also mean this: has anyone else ever loved you, forgiven you…saved you?
“No,” He confirmed, only for her to hear, “Only you.”
Later, when they were lying side by side in the darkness and it was almost time for him to go, she whispered against his chest.
“Where will you be in the morning?”
They wouldn’t be in the same world when Rey woke up next, on two separate planets.
“With you,” He lied, and she didn’t mind it.
Still, in a way, wasn’t that always true?