The base of her skull seems to fit perfectly in the cup of his large palm and Rey shivers at the simple intimacy of his fingers sliding along her scalp. Never in her life has she experienced such tenderness, and it’s at his hands. Perhaps it should surprise her, but it doesn’t.

Ben has said something similar to her before, but this time the message is far less aggressive and she finds herself nodding against his chest. Rey spent her life waiting for parents who weren’t coming back, longing for family, only to find herself heiress to the throne on the wrong side of a war she wanted desperately to end. She loved people, lost people, fought with her life, and it still ended with her back where she started, alone in the desert.

Ben is right. There are people she misses, will always miss, but she has to keep moving forward.

“And you’ll be with me?” She breathes out, finally pulling her face away from his chest so she can look up at him, moving their joined hands to rest against her cheek. “I— I don’t want to move on from you.”