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The subtle rise and fall of his chest with each shallow breath he took was the most he had moved in the last hour. You would have thought him to be asleep, if you didn’t know that he made small, melodical, almost humming sounds whenever he did decide to shut his eyes for just a brief moment of rest. No, he wasn’t sleeping, but he was completely silent, completely still, and completely pissed off.
And, though you didn’t know, completely worried that if he fell asleep, you wouldn’t be there when he woke up.
Poe was turned away from you in the bed, but you knew that if you were facing him, his nostrils would be flaring and his cheeks would be tinted red from the anger he felt coursing through his veins like a blazing, unforgiving fire. And as you laid there, staring at his naked back, covered in scars and marks that would always serve as a brutal reminder of the war that had become your lives, you realized that anger might have been too gentle of a word. Rage felt like a much more suitable term.
Normally, when he was mad at you, he wouldn’t be able to stay that way for very long, because relief would soon wash away any trace of fury he might’ve been harboring in the moment, and calm him significantly. Relief, because his anger towards you was usually caused by your own careless behavior, and your tendency to act on impulse when faced with a situation that could end poorly for you, and lead to you losing your life.
It was a cycle, really. An endless circle of close calls and almosts. A brief lecture about whatever it was you had done, a few harsh words that he never truly meant — harsh words that were usually uttered after your own smart remark about him being just as reckless when the time proved right, followed promptly by the sincerest of apologies and, depending on the day, a kiss that was either gentle and passionate or desperate and needy. And that vicious circle repeated itself more often than not, because you never seemed to gain even an ounce of respect for your own mortality, even when he begged and pleaded for you to, and he cared for you so deeply and didn’t know how else to convey how much grief you had caused him with your severe lack of self preservation.
But, you hadn’t even been in any danger that day. You hadn’t left the base for the better part of a week, and had hardly left Poe’s side at that, enjoying the time you were able to spend with him that wasn’t filled with fighting and war. It had been beyond nice, and beyond needed. But, as a commander, he did still have certain daily responsibilities that couldn’t always include you. In the few hours that you did spend apart that day, you had been with Finn, just talking with him about anything that came to mind, but at some, the conversation had turned to something deep, dark, and personal. You talked about things you had never told anyone else before. Things that you never thought you would ever tell anyone else — thoughts that felt like poison clouding your mind, rendering you useless until they passed for a time.
And of course, Poe had to have overheard that part of the conversation.
Part of you understood why he was mad. It made sense, really, considering the things he had heard you say. But another part of you wanted to be mad at him for being angry with you, because had you really done anything wrong by expressing your twisted thoughts and emotions to Finn? Another cycle you found yourself in.
You sighed gently, flipping to your other side so that your back was now towards Poe. He still didn’t move, and that sparked your irritation even further. Glancing at the clock quickly, noting that you had to be up in only an hour, you decided that you couldn’t lay beside him in silence any longer. A boiling hot shower sounded much more appealing.
You quickly swung your legs over the side of the bed, attempting to stand when you felt a hand close around your wrist, effectively holding you in place. Slowly, you looked over your shoulder, finding his eyes in the darkness.
He looked scared, for a reason that you couldn’t quite place. His gaze was hard, but his eyes still warm with affection for you. He wasn’t completely calm again, as his anger was still evident in the way he clenched his jaw, but he looked somewhat better than he had before.
“Where are you going?” he asked quietly, after several seconds passed in silence.
You turned away from him again and shrugged your shoulders gently, letting another small sigh fall from your lips.
“I figured you didn’t want me here.”
You could feel him shift on the bed, and then suddenly, he was behind you, though he made no move to touch you, other than the hold he still had on your wrist. He was close enough, however, that you could feel his warm breath on the bare skin of your neck.
“Stay,” he mumbled, his exhaustion evident in his voice.
“You need to sleep.”
He scoffed gently, and you didn’t have to turn to know that he was running his free hand through his disheveled hair. “As if, Princess.”
It was then that you turned to face him, a deep frown upon your lips. Poe was already looking at you, and when your eyes met his, your frown only grew.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You really think I can sleep after all of…that?” he asked, gesturing vaguely with his hand.
“Poe,” you groaned, pulling your wrist out of his firm grasp. You finally stood, taking a few steps away from the bed, keeping your gaze set on the wall in front of you. “It wasn’t even that bad.”
“It wasn’t that bad? Really, Y/N?”
“I don’t think it was, no.”
Poe stayed silent, and the tension in the room only grew as each second passed. You were at a loss for what else to say, or how to make the situation right, because you still didn’t believe that you did anything wrong. But, at the same time, you were lying when you said that you didn’t think the words he had overheard were “that bad” because you knew had you been the one to hear him say anything remotely similar, you would be feeling the same way. Confused and angry and worried. You wouldn’t have been able to sleep, either.
His anger was coming from a place of love, that was undeniable. What he had heard you tell Finn truly scared him, and he didn’t know how to work through or process what you had said. It didn’t make any sense to him. How could you even think such horrible things?
But, his anger also wasn’t truly directed at you. He wasn’t mad because you hadn’t told him of these thoughts, not at all. No, he was angry at himself for not noticing that something had been wrong for quite some time, and he would also admit that he was a little irritated with you for feeling like you had to endure it alone.
And hearing you try to tell him that it hadn’t been “that bad”? It threw him for a loop, and sent so many different emotions through his system. He was even more confused than before, and the anger that had slowly started to diminish returned. But, above all, he was scared, and that was an emotion Poe Dameron didn’t know very well.
You heard Poe stand from the bed, his heavy footsteps crossing the room towards you. You turned just as he reached you, but he kept coming, forcing you back until you hit the wall you had just been staring at. He only stopped when his chest was flush against your own, and his lips brushed the skin of your nose with each breath he took.
“Say it to my face this time,” he ordered, his voice low and dripping with venom as a new fire burned behind his eyes.
“What? Poe-”
“Say it to my face, Y/N.”
“I’m not going to-”
“Say it!” he yelled, though you didn’t even flinch at the harsh tone of his voice. He would never, ever hurt you, no matter how angry he could become. You weren’t scared of him.
When you didn’t answer his request, Poe leaned forward until his lips brushed against your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Tell me exactly what you told Finn.”
He didn’t even give you a moment to respond before he was speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“If you really don’t think it’s that bad, tell me. Tell me how you think that you’re nothing, and how you think I’m everything. Tell me how you think the Resistance doesn’t need you, that Leia doesn’t need you, that I don’t need you.”
You shook your head, tears springing to your eyes as you listened to him repeat your own words back to you.
“How you try to get yourself killed when we’re out on a mission, because you think you’re too much of a burden on me? How you think about crashing your X-Wing on purpose, because you think that you’re a waste of my time? You think you don’t deserve me?”
“Stop it,” you cried, forcefully pushing on his chest, trying to break away from him to no avail. He didn’t budge, and quickly placed one of his hands on the wall beside your head, the other pressing firmly on your hip, holding you tighter against the wall.
“I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that I don’t love you. That I wouldn’t be a fucking wreck if something happened to you. That I don’t really care. Can you really look me in the eye and say that I don’t love you?”
You couldn’t respond. Couldn’t find the words to say. It was true — they were all things you had said, and all things you had thought for some time now, but hearing such awful things flow from Poe’s mouth made it different. Because there was absolutely no way you could do what he was requesting of you, because you knew that they were all lies, and you refused to lie to Poe.
“I know you love me,” you whimpered, your voice cracking as you turned your head to the side just in time to catch the single tear that rolled down his cheek. “I know you do.”
Poe closed his eyes, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat and placing his forehead against your shoulder. All night, his head had been swimming with thoughts of you hurting yourself, or going out on a mission and not coming back to him. They were driving him mad.
“Do you have any idea what I would do if I lost you?” he whispered, his own voice cracking as images of you, bloodied and bruised and unmoving, filled his mind again.
He hit the wall beside you, and you knew his knuckles would be bruised from how hard he did so, but you still didn’t flinch.
You slowly hooked your arms around him, one hand falling to his back while the other entangled itself in his hair, holding him to you. He made no sound, but you could feel a wetness on your shoulder as more tears fell. Poe Dameron was a man who never cried, and you had reduced him to tears with only words.
“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” you mumbled into his hair, softly kissing the side of his head as you gently played with his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, shaking his head as he tried to pry himself from your grasp, but you only held him tighter.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“But I do. I didn’t notice, all of those times I-”
“Baby, it’s because I didn’t want you to,” you assured him, pushing him back gently so you could look into his dark eyes, eyes that you wanted to stare into for the rest of your days. “I didn’t want you to know.”
“But why? I don’t understand, I thought-”
You interrupted him for a second time by placing a gentle kiss to his lips, one that he instantly returned on instinct, as if he were on autopilot. The kiss only lasted a second, and when you pulled away, he remained silent, though he stared at you with furrowed eyebrows, waiting for you to say something.
It took you a few seconds, but you finally did.
“Because I convinced myself that all of those things were true, and telling you would only burden you further.”
Poe still looked conflicted, and his hand on your hip that you didn’t realize was still there only tightened. You gave him another chaste kiss, just to try and wipe the frown from his lips, even if only for a second.
“I love you, Poe Dameron. I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll be more careful during missions, and I promise you’ll get to wake up to my bedhead and awful morning breath for the rest of your life if that’s what you want.”
He nodded swiftly, pulling you to him until your face was buried in his chest, his chin resting on top of your head. He simply stood there and held you, gently rocking you back and forth as he let your warmth in his arms take away the rest of his negative emotions and unwanted thoughts.
“I need you to promise me one more thing, sweetheart” he finally muttered, breaking the silence after a few short minutes.
“And what’s that?”
“That if you have these thoughts again, you’ll tell me. So I can remind you of exactly how much you mean to me instead of flipping my shit when I hear you tell someone else.”
You didn’t answer at first. You knew you would have them again, because they weren’t something that you could just turn off with the flick of a switch. The state of your mental health couldn’t just change overnight. But, you knew that there was no one else you would rather talk to about those feelings with, because now, there was no way for you to deny that he cared and loved you more than any being had ever loved another. Not after tonight.
You only nodded, pulling his face down to yours and planting a kiss on his lips that was so full of desperation and love and assurance. Poe kissed you back with just as much passion, the action speaking all of the words he hadn’t verbally expressed yet.
You mattered. To him and to Leia and to the rest of the Resistance.
You weren’t a burden, or a waste of his time. You were his reason behind everything he did. Why he woke up in the morning, and why he fought so hard in the Resistance. It was all for you.
And he thought that you deserved better than him, but he was far too selfish, and would keep you for himself until you no longer wanted him.
You were his everything, just like he was yours.