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Finn’s swearing as they duck under one of the vendor’s tents, ignoring the woman griping at them as she covers up her wares from the rain. “I thought you said Chewie checked the forecast,” Finn gripes, shaking the clinging drops of water from his hair.
“He did,” Rey says, fixated on the falling rain. “He said it was going to rain.”
Finn splutters. “Then why did we go anyway?”
“I didn’t know it was like this,” she says simply, watching as puddles form outside the tent. “I’ve never seen it before. This is rain?”
He finally looks at her instead of the rain. She’s enthralled, looking out at the quickly muddying marketplace like it’s the most magnificent scene she’s ever seen. “Here,” he mumbles, slipping off his jacket and holding it over her like an umbrella. Rey just shakes him off and steps out from their cover.
And then Finn’s a little enthralled. Standing in the storm with water streaming down her face like tears, she looks like she belongs there, one with nature. She looks like a Jedi. The water soaks her clothes, but instead of weighing her down it’s like it makes her lighter.
“This is amazing,” she laughs, and reaches out for his hand. “Come on.”
“Rey,” he starts, trying to argue, but she’s already tugged him out into the rain. Finn’s quick to bring the jacket up over his head in an effort to stay dry.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Are you kidding?” she says, looking straight up at the gray sky, sticking her tongue out to catch raindrops like a little kid. “I love this.”
“Maybe don’t taste it,” he says, hunching in on himself. “You don’t know where it’s coming from. Could be acid rain.”
“Acid rain?” she says, looking excited.
“No, no, it’s not a cool thing, Rey, it’s bad.”
“Acid rain,” she repeats, looking intrigued. Eyes on the storm around them, she holds Finn’s hand tighter. “What other things can be made of acid?”
“I don’t know,” he says, giving in to her curiosity. “Frogs, I think. On some planets.”
“Frogs,” she mutters to herself, strands of sopping hair sticking to her forehead.
With her hand in his, Finn almost feels like he also belongs in the rain, like she’s extending her joy and sense of wonder to him. Instead of cold and wet, he feels young. He feels alive.
“I can’t believe you,” he sighs, but it’s more of a laugh. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”
“Well, sure,” she says, holding out her free hand to let the rain pour over her. “Don’t you?”
And well, he kind of doesn’t. He wants to go somewhere warm and dry, he wants to change out of their damp clothes and into some dry clothes— or maybe just out of their damp clothes. He wants to watch the rain from a seat by a window, safe and comfortable.
But he also never wants the look on Rey’s face to go away. Amazement and disbelief somehow contrasting with a feeling of understanding. Like she’s never known what this feeling is but she’s been waiting for it all her life.
It’s the way he feels when he looks at her.
“Hey,” he says, tugging gently on her hand, and then he twirls her toward him and kisses her, letting the jacket fall around his shoulders. Now he can feel the rain on his face, and Rey’s cold hands looped behind his neck, raindrops dripping between them, her mouth moving on his. Thunder claps above them.
“Come on,” Finn says finally, beginning to lead her toward shelter. “Let’s get out of here. We’re gonna get struck by lightning.” But he already feels absolutely electrified.