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Summary
"Is it wrong,” she snarled, thrusting her hand forward, using the Force to pin his hands at his sides. “When the wolf consumes a lamb?”
“No,” Kylo breathed, his eyes wide and dilated, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His sabre still throbbed at his side, and the clouds still hung low, seemingly close enough to touch, and once more they reflected the colors of their sabres.
Rey let her blade fall silent, stalking closer to her prey. “It’s life,” she told him, using her free hand to grip his chin, forcing his face towards her. He wasn’t wiggling anymore, and his sabre had been deactivated, too.
“The Force is life,” she said quietly, staring into the dark pools of his eyes. “Life in all its complexities. There is death there, and despair, but also generosity and softness and spring.”
OR: The one where Rey and Kylo fight aboard the wreckage of the death star, discuss the meaning of the Force, and fuck each other like someone is keeping score.