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It was easier in the darkness, body curled up, knees crushed into her chest, waiting—pleading—for sleep to take her. Of course, sleep became even harder when the bond hummed to life and the space beside her dipped with a new weight, but at least she didn't have to look into his eyes. To not see the pain that had settled in deep - rooted to his core ever since he was a boy - or see her own emotions reflected in the depth of his gaze that had captured her attention from the very beginning.
He could wear a mask of rage all he liked - his eyes were enough to paint the real picture.
At night, however, she didn't have to think about that. She didn't have to think about him. He, who had taken up so much of her mind lately. He who was supposed to come with her; to finally quench that lonely desperation that had always been buried deep down.
But he didn't come. And he wasn't Ben Solo.
They could ignore it like this. Ignore the divider between them, under the dark night skies. At this moment, he would wrap an arm around her waist. At this point, she would lean into the warmth she craved so carelessly.
In the darkness, he wasn't the Supreme Leader. In the darkness, she wasn't the Resistance's 'last hope'. They were just two connected souls, content in forgetting their shared history.
Content in forgetting who they really were.
If only for the night. If only to fall asleep together, a peaceful flow to the air around them as if the Force applauded their blatant denial. Harmony and balance, underneath the cloudy stretch of skies that blinked with bright stars.
The feeling was all too nice. A domestic moment that had her yearning for a better future, wishing a different past; hoping that in this world, in this dimension, they could come together.
But with the rising sun came the irrevocable truth. The light bringing forth the knowledge that plagued the both of them.
This wasn't a lovers' quarrel. This was war.
The thought only made her clutch him tighter. An action that had him pressing his soft lips to the crown of her head, pulling her tighter as if it were their last night in the galaxy (it very well may be). Bare hot skin, stuck together as one; melding to form a bond so pure, so natural, blurring the lines of what they actually meant to each other.
Who they actually were.
But those questions belonged to the morning.
She sighed softly instead, and let the warmth of sheets and bones and flesh become her. Comforted by soft touch and a mattress of feathers.
For now, Rey could happily ignore the reality of their situation a little longer.
Only in the night. Only in the dark.