She nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, swallowing hard as he takes the envelope. No one has ever said her name quite like he does, the sound of it low and rich. Almost warm.
A part of her wants to protest, but she knows that he’s right. She can’t even remember the last time she actually slept, but it must have been days ago, and worlds away. She feels sick with exhaustion, head aching, and she merely nods as she drifts closer to him.
He digs into the envelope, holding a small card between two of his massive fingers as he roots around for something else, she she reaches out to take what appears to be an identification card. It has her photograph on it, and her name. Rey, no last name printed.
Her brows burrow and she pats at the coat she’s wearing until she finds his billfold and extracts it, opening it to get a look at his card. The picture is a good one, capturing his strong features and intense, sullen eyes, but it’s the name that catches her attention, and the corner of her mouth quirks up as she swipes her thumb across it. Ben Solo.
She doesn’t want to be Rey Palpatine, so she won’t. He doesn’t want to be Kylo Ren anymore, so he won’t. They may not be free, not in this place, but at least they have that.
“What are you looking for?” She shuffles closer and grabs his arm, pressing up onto her toes to try and get a look at the paper he seems so concerned with. Stars, he’s tall. “Surely you know how to get there. Is it like a barracks? I’ll take a cot, any cot.”
no subject
A part of her wants to protest, but she knows that he’s right. She can’t even remember the last time she actually slept, but it must have been days ago, and worlds away. She feels sick with exhaustion, head aching, and she merely nods as she drifts closer to him.
He digs into the envelope, holding a small card between two of his massive fingers as he roots around for something else, she she reaches out to take what appears to be an identification card. It has her photograph on it, and her name. Rey, no last name printed.
Her brows burrow and she pats at the coat she’s wearing until she finds his billfold and extracts it, opening it to get a look at his card. The picture is a good one, capturing his strong features and intense, sullen eyes, but it’s the name that catches her attention, and the corner of her mouth quirks up as she swipes her thumb across it. Ben Solo.
She doesn’t want to be Rey Palpatine, so she won’t. He doesn’t want to be Kylo Ren anymore, so he won’t. They may not be free, not in this place, but at least they have that.
“What are you looking for?” She shuffles closer and grabs his arm, pressing up onto her toes to try and get a look at the paper he seems so concerned with. Stars, he’s tall. “Surely you know how to get there. Is it like a barracks? I’ll take a cot, any cot.”
Perhaps she’s more tired than she even realized.