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When she asks him to tell her a story, he doesn’t exactly know what possesses him to tell her this one.
Maybe it’s something in the air, the night warm and humid, moonlight shining through the branches of the trees, making everything soft and gentle. Or maybe it’s something else, some peaceful energy surrounding him, the kind he only feels when he’s nestled amongst the roots of the Force Tree.
Or maybe it’s her, and her energy, her warmth, that mixture of peaceful serenity and bright light that seems to emanate only from her.
She asks him about his family, like she so often does. And like always, he tells her their stories, because she asks and he can never deny her anything (though he wants to talk about his family, he always does, especially with her, even when it hurts, especially then—)
He doesn’t know why it’s this night that he’s suddenly reminded of a message his parents recorded for him so long ago, that even while fearing for their own lives, they wanted to make sure he was left with a reminder of their love.
(He’s seen it. He’s seen it so often that he only has to close his eyes and he can call to mind every single word, every single detail, and he cries because it hurts, especially now that Shara Bey’s gone, but he also cries because they love him, and he loves them, and he just feels so full of feeling that the only thing he can do is cry.)
He tells her the story, tells her because he loves them and he loves her and he wants her to know it all —
Well, almost all.
He doesn’t tell her that in the months before the war was won, when he had left BB-8 behind with her, to make sure she wouldn’t feel lonely, to make her feel a little less isolated, that he hadn’t just left his droid with her.
Before he and Finn were sent on a mission to infiltrate a First Order outpost, a dangerous mission — Would you like me to tell you the odds? C-3PO had asked, and No, No, he had quickly answered, cause he knew the odds, knew they weren’t good, but he knew the importance of the mission — he had sat before BB-8, the droid’s camera focused on Poe, as he recorded a message.
A message for Rey.
In case he didn’t come back.
They had been tiptoeing around something for a while then, had been tiptoeing around it since they had come to Yavin IV too, but in the midst of war and then recovery, the words hadn’t exactly been said.
But they had been then.
He told her everything in that message, how much she means to him, that they’re family, yes, but also, also —
He loves her.
He had said the words then, and they remain in BB-8’s memory bank even now, the message unplayed, stored along with the one from his parents from so long ago.
But now, as they sit staring up at the stars glittering in the night sky, he thinks back to that message, thinks about the woman sitting by his side.
He’s going to tell her. Not tonight and maybe not tomorrow, not with the shadows of war lingering so close even still.
Not now.
But soon.
Soon.