( As if he could. The whole of his attention is collapsed down to a pinhole, caught up in the gravity well that spans the distance between them and pulls, pushes, lengthens and condenses like the rhythmic breathing of something living. He could easily tip over and into her and find himself caught in that whirlpool, that black hole, and never surface, but reaching for the riptide intentionally always leaves him empty handed. Some piece refuses to connect, their fingers always touching but never catching in the dark. )
Hang up. I want to try something.
( Before Rey even has a chance to respond, he cuts the connection so that his screen goes dark, leaving only the illuminating wash of the solitary glowlamp still lit in the absence of the stark white-blue of his comm unit. Through the long line that pulls taut between them, the ever-there sensation of her through the Force, he follows the thread as best he can, the same way that he had reached out months ago, that first time, though this time he lacks the anchor of her extended hand to guide him up through the pitch. )
no subject
Hang up. I want to try something.
( Before Rey even has a chance to respond, he cuts the connection so that his screen goes dark, leaving only the illuminating wash of the solitary glowlamp still lit in the absence of the stark white-blue of his comm unit. Through the long line that pulls taut between them, the ever-there sensation of her through the Force, he follows the thread as best he can, the same way that he had reached out months ago, that first time, though this time he lacks the anchor of her extended hand to guide him up through the pitch. )