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Poe thinks about Finn a lot. He thinks about all of the small things that make Finn who he is. What makes him Finn and not FN-2187. He thinks about the way he talks; how the words spill out of his mouth and how it sounds like a currents flow. He thinks about Finn in Poe’s jacket. How it hugs his body, clings to him like Poe clings to its picture. He thinks about his smile, his laughter. How his eyes seem to sparkle, not very unlike small galaxies. When he cries he sees stars spilling out.
Poe thinks about Finn in the dead of the night when no one else is around and the only noise still heard is his own panting.
But Finn doesn’t think about Poe, he thinks about Rey and Poe knows that. He is so aware.
Finn thinks about the soft curves of Rey’s body. He thinks about the dimples in her cheeks when she smiles and the joy floating in her eyes when she laughs. He doesn’t think about Poe’s harsh angles. He doesn’t think about how the skin around Poe’s eyes crinkles when he smiles at him. He doesn’t think about the way Poe looks at him when he thinks no one is watching. He doesn’t think about him. Or at least that’s what Poe thinks.
But maybe that’s okay too.
As long as Poe can witness Finn’s happiness everything else seems to mean less. It’s secondary of sorts. And it’s with that thought Poe smiles to himself when his stomach flips as his x-wing plunges to the ground. As the battle outside keeps raging on. As the crash blows his life away. One last moment… Of relief? Of regret? Relief, he concludes. He’s happy it’s him and not her. And somehow it doesn’t feel like a failure.
But then again, he never got to know that Finn stayed at his memorial long after everyone else had left. Even long after General Organa left with angry tears stinging in her eyes. He never got to know that Finn looked up at the sky and murmured three words over and over again.
He never got to know that Finn thought about Poe too.