[ Groaning at the unrequested advice Rey rolled onto her back, her face visible in profile for a moment while she stares up at the ceiling, one bare, freckled shoulder coming into view as the blanket moves as she does. ]
That's stupid, and– [ Turning back to face him, her expression softened seeing him leaning in slightly. This was something like the closeness that had tugged them both to Felucia in the first place, and while when sober it made her antsy and uncertain, right now she's free to just enjoy it for what it is; caring without the reluctance that normally cloaks the urge. ] Tython, or somewhere with lakes and good trees and rocks to climb. Where would you go?
( Well this is a stupid response but he's going to say it anyway because he's stupid and the image of that one bare, freckled shoulder is going to be burned into his brain for the rest of his life - )
Tython. ( Maybe it's taking advantage of her intoxication - although he's never claimed to be even a halfway decent person - but he's unabashed in the way he takes in the poorly illuminated angles of her face: the hollows underneath her eyes, thrown by the light of the communicator; the splatter of freckles over the rise of one cheekbone not totally dissipated into shadow; the lone ring of green hanging in the brown of her eyes, solidly aglow in the contrast between his call and the darkness of the room beyond. The bow of her mouth, and the memory of it against his own. )
Wherever you want to go. ( Pause. ) As long as the humidity is somewhere below ninety-eight percent.
[ Rey's heart did a little flip, but instead of the wide stupid smile she had ready for him when she answered his call, this time it's a much softer expression, her eyes fluttering half-closed as she studied the planes of his face through her eyelashes. It was impossible to think of anything beyond the last time she'd had the chance to watch him in person - another reason out of a growing list as to why this was so very stupid. ]
You'll go anywhere I want? [ One eyebrow rose, her eyes flashing in a drowsy challenge. ]
As long as the humidity is somewhere below ninety-eight percent. ( This is important, all things considered, and bears repeating. Never mind that it's easier to parrot than it is to come up with original statements.
So, so stupid.
He'll just. Get up. And do anything else other than sit there because there is a thread of anxious energy running like an electrical current underneath his skin. )
[ Rey breathed out a laugh as he repeated the lone sticking point to what is otherwise utterly insane. The trouble was, was that it was all insane. They had tried so hard to be enemies. They'd beaten their head against that wall of ]
Tython. [ Her turn to echo herself, watching as the image of him shifted while he moved around. Rey narrowed her eyes and lifted the communicator up from where she propped it holding it above her so that she could look up at it while she stayed laying down. ] Right now?
( One of them has to be the sane one, so it might as well be the sober one. )
You're already intoxicated. Why add reckless to the equation?
( He sits, this time on a cot jutting from the wall of the shuttle he's currently occupying. He props the comm on a side table so that they are more or less facing one another, wrists braced on his knees, nearly leveling with her. )
taylor swift is somewhere killing us softly with her song
You want me to ask you when I wake up. [ Lifting herself slightly as she narrowed her eyes Rey searched Kylo's face before she nodded slightly as if confirming that for herself. ] You do.
[ Rey rolled back onto her side and propped the comm once more, adjusting the blanket after it slipped down past her collarbone, for decency's sake. Her lips parted as though she meant to speak but she hesitated, her face falling as she looked down at the bed beneath her. ] Would you even tell me you'd go anywhere with me if I hadn't been drinking?
( That particular throwback does not go unnoticed, and the expression on his face should be enough to discredit that specific question but just in case there was any doubt - )
I could ask you the same question. ( Because, at this point, they both know the nuances and accuracy of that particular inquiry, but maybe right now he's the only one who understands the severity of both the question itself and the answer. The angle now, though, is interesting, and he chews the inside of his cheek, eyeing her clavicle under the blanket almost warily. ) I would confidently put money on 'no.'
And if I wake up on Tython tomorrow? [ Rey's eyes go wide briefly, a flash of a challenge before it's gone again. ]
You'll know where I am. [ It's an invitation wrapped in her own rumination. Though the haze of drink softened the sharp edges that existed at absolutely all points of the thing that existed between them, Rey knew however hazily that they existed. She understood why he would step around the invitation, but she was not sober enough to care much about stopping her penchant for pressing at it ]
but it would have been fun if rey would've been the one
( Never mind that he's in no position to book it halfway across the galaxy regardless of his own provocations. Never mind that she is in no position to book it halfway across the galaxy - or further or closer. He has no real idea where she is, but someone would notice. Fortunately, he's less inclined to challenge her given that she's yet to get out from underneath that blanket, which he is slowly starting to resent. )
I know where you are now. ( In the abstract, at least, and that's clear in his tone. He's never really had to deal with anyone in this state before but it's simultaneously aggravating and endearing. He wants to say - no it's stupid but it's going to come out before he has a chance to catch this runaway train of thought - ) What are you wearing under the blanket?
( - which immediately slams back into him with the speed of the freight that ran away from him in the first place because Leia Organa didn't raise no fuckboy. ) Sorry.
( Hopefully she's recording this because it's highly unlikely he'll ever apologize for anything ever again. )
That's not an answer. [ Before she has a moment to nudge him further for one, his question hits like a glass of cold water to the face and she shakes her head, visibly shocked by it. That sense of surprise grew by leaps and bounds as on its heels came an apology.
For a moment Rey only stared at him before she began to laugh, not at him of course as much as the weird, awkward combination of feelings his question had caused to bloom to life in her mind as a result of it. All that nervous, giddy energy had to go somewhere, and Rey channeled it into laughter. ]
Another blanket, and under that, another blanket. [ And had she delivered it in that wearily dry tone she so often lapsed into while stuck in the trenches of their personal war, it would have come as a shutdown. Instead she was grinning, of all things, her eyes narrowing wryly at him. The blanket had fallen back below her collarbone, answering his question for her, and for a moment that was definitely going on for much too long, she did not adjust it. ]
( Maybe it's the nature of the connecting bridge between them, but he doesn't feel laughed at despite the pointed tip of it directed right toward him. If anything, he senses the echo of his own uncertainty in the lingering beat between the change in her expression and the clap of her laughter - admittedly not a sound he's overly familiar with and definitely not enough to judge, but he relies on intuition to lead him here - and rather than recoiling, he leans into it, just once. )
You can't possibly be that cold. ( Suggestive? Maybe, but he's hardly an expert at this, and despite his pronouncements otherwise, he's still Han Solo's son, and anyone who knows that man knows that his ability to smoothly navigate a conversation is lacking. So it sounds more dubious, even as he maneuvers to lie on his side, propped up on one bent elbow. ) Where are you?
( The leading note in his tone is somehow different even to his own ears. Less command and more layered, genuine curiosity. Exploitation is less on his mind than is trial and error, since Felucia. )
What happened? I thought you knew where I was. [ She dropped the tone of her voice after posing the question, mimicking his somber baritone voice.
Something about watching him lay down on his side as she was made the intimacy of the moment feel suddenly multiplied by a thousand. ]
And I'm from a warm planet, I'm always a little cold anywhere else. [ She added while still smiling that wry smile of hers. As if silently implying there was something he could do about that, and they both knew it. ] Where are you? [ His location was fairly arbitrary, but Rey wouldn't let him be the only one making demands. Then, in a rush of wild stupidity, she spoke again. ] And what's under your blanket?
In bed. [ He should know that would be all the answers she could give him. Rey shifted slightly, masking a yawn against the back of her hand as the blanket slipped down further. Catching it just before she exposed herself completely, though still revealing a good deal more of herself than she would have liked, the curve of her abdomen and the side of one breast on full display as she held the blanket to herself. ]
( A lot of this feels like a trap and a situation he should not be taking advantage of, but when allowances are rationed out like sips of water during a drought, he finds that the overwhelming scratch of the dryness in his throat is too much to contend with. He's felt the bow of that waist through the leather creaking in his palm as he's flexed his fingers, but his hands are bare now and there is no sensory memory to bridge the gap between reality as it stands and reality as he's experienced it before. )
I was aiming for the planet but apparently alcohol makes you only slightly more agreeable.
I already gave you a planet. [ A planet, that if he seemed inclined to depart for she would do the same when she woke up. Her eyes narrow, watching him and attempting to read and re-read the million and one microexpressions that move over his face like light through the trees on a very humid, jungly planet. ] You're staring. [ So was she, and she knew that she was, and the peculiar sense of closeness that had muddied her thoughts more than any whiskey could made her smile, the words issued gently, as though she were almost pleased by the knowledge. ]
You suggested a planet. ( Which shouldn't be taken as an indication that he is at all planning to meet her there. Regardless of what's happened in the weeks and months since Crait, there are still some trajectories that he can't deviate from. ) I'm looking for a confirmation.
( If he can conceptualize the planet on his end, could he project himself there intentionally, rather than one of them accidentally stumbling into it? The academic nuances of their predicament are only slightly less interesting to him than the rise and fall of that blanket with the cadence of her breath, but Kylo is resolutely not addressing that. )
[ He says he's looking for confirmation and her gaze drifts to the side, not so much thinking as feeling. Reaching out towards him through the Force Rey focused on the constant pull of that very specific gravity that is unique to Kylo Ren. It was always there in the back of her mind, and, as she turned her eyes back to face the image of him on the screen of her communicator, she let her awareness get close enough to pull back. ]
Nowhere else. [ Rey's voice was quiet, focusing on the dark of his eyes and the slope of his nose, trying to bring him closer to her, like she wanted to silently will him through the screen. He had been nice to hold. It had been nice to forget, to be breathless for a reason that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with its opposite. Maybe if he pushed, she could pull. ]
( 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. )
[ When he vanished from the screen Rey gaped at the dimly lit screen where his face had been only moments ago. She was still just a little bit too drunk to hate herself properly for the pang of longing that budded up in the pit of her stomach.
Then, she can feel him trying, and without giving a moment's thought to any item on the lengthy list of reasons why she shouldn't, Rey reached for him. She couldn't stretch her hand forward for him to take this time, leaving her to project the desire to do so, her thoughts centering on the shape of his silhouette and the warmth of his body pressed against hers. ]
( A few of the last vestiges of rationality that manage to hang on by their own frayed ends persistently rationalize that most of what he's doing is still an academic choice. There is still room to make the argument that he's testing a hypothesis or pushing the limits and boundaries of this thing that they have both tried to be rid of at varying points and to varying degrees. Snoke had insisted that it was his creation, his manipulative experiment, that had bridged the gap, and so it stands to reason that examining it to its very end is not only necessary because of the tactical aspects of occupying one end of a direct connection to an enemy but also because the bond's continued existence itself could call into question some hard truths about the true status of that voice in the dark, that cold shadow lurking in the back of his mind.
He could also blame this lapse in judgment on the bleed between Rey and himself through their connection and claim that he was drunk, but Kylo doubts that the swimming sensation in his head has anything to do with blood alcohol content. But it's fun to explore it as an option. He sits up.
Of course, nothing happens at first, not for a while, and he listens to the whir of the shuttle around him, cutting through hyperspace like a blade. Of course, nothing happens at first but when it does, it's as subtle as it's always been, enough that he doesn't even notice at first. It's the drop in air pressure and then its rise, gravity pressing down on his shoulders, the back of his neck. He's still sitting there, knees akimbo, heels pressed nearly together on the floor, fingers curled under the edge of the cot. He doesn't even have to look behind him to know. )
Comfortable? ( He's asked the same question of at least one other person before, though this time the sarcasm is laced with a little less hostility than it had been then. )
[ Uncertain of what to think or feel Rey lay there and stared up at the ceiling, chasing the frenetic loops of her thoughts as they rollercoastered through her mind. She wanted to blame the drinks, but she hadn't had a drop on Felucia when they had collided the first time. It had been then what it was now – the almost fiendish machinations of fate and gravity, bolstered by the Force.
Her eyes closed as the air seemed to still and dip inwards on itself like it needed to take a breath before the universe could go on. Without moving Rey let her eyes down, looking along the line of her bed to where his shape interrupts the empty space. Inside her chest her heart twisted in a way that would have seemed unnatural had she not already become very aware of how completely right he could feel.
Propping herself up on one elbow Rey held the blanket against herself, her eyes flashing when his voice broke the silence but she said nothing in response. He would turn around, she knew, and he would see that unabashedly gentle smile on her face and the way her eyes narrowed, welcoming and glad and challenging, shoving away the conflict that had the ability to rip them both to pieces in favor of self-indulgence, and a yearning for the closeness they'd had no business discovering between them in the first place. ]
( There is a weighted tug that pulls at the edges of his peripheral, guiding the lingering line of his gaze toward where he knows that he'll find her lying like an illusion, some play of the imagination, in the indentation that his own body hasn't left across the narrow slant of the mattress. The warmth of her floods the boundaries of his perception, the same way that the weird and heavy weight of humidity had settled over him that time he had found moisture pressed into the lines of his gloves. He knows that she's there without having to even turn and check for himself, and there is something both comforting and nerve-wracking about that knowledge, like keeping a secret he knows he should tell or tempting himself with a reward he knows he doesn't deserve.
He should stand, despite reaching out to her in some capacity in the first place. He should walk away, despite doing his part to close the distance between them whether by feet or parsecs, whether by physicality alone or through whatever strange bridge still connects them through the Force. If anything, he should remain seated just the way that he is, facing away, if only because he knows what's under the drape of that blanket. Still, there is only so much self-control in the galaxy. )
No answer? ( He can see her plainly when he turns to look at her, just the sharp line of his eye at first and then the entirety of his shoulders to follow as he turns, one hand plunged precariously next to her in the sheets but not touching. The fragility of the line that stretches between them, like a thread of woven, brittle glass, doesn't escape him, both in the physical sense and in terms of how her mood and attitude toward him might impact it.
The corner of his mouth quirks, definitely not a smile but not lacking in some degree of familiarity either, almost bordering on affection. ) That's highly unlike you.
[ With a little care it might have been a smile on his face, sure, but as minuscule as the change in his expression was it sent her stomach into happy, tense knots just the same. These were moments that should not have been encouraged to exist, and she knew it. There was some part of her mind where sanity must still have existed that worked hard to wave every red flag it could and Rey–
She sat up slowly, willing and pulling and trying everything she could to make whatever this was as real and tangible as possible. Her blanket secured she continued to stay quiet, shifting across the narrow expanse of her bunk until she was just behind him. With a soft sigh that somehow sounded both weighty and gentle at the same time Rey shut her eyes and leaned forward, resting her chin against his shoulder. ]
I thought you'd enjoy the quiet. [ She said after a moment, letting her eyes flutter open and dart to the side, tilting her head to better study his face in profile as she did.
He was here, and what a disaster it was.
After a moment of hesitation Rey's hand came up, resting lightly on his shoulder as she stayed put, half curled against his side, peering over his shoulder while she rest her head on him. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oh how she covets the booty
That's stupid, and– [ Turning back to face him, her expression softened seeing him leaning in slightly. This was something like the closeness that had tugged them both to Felucia in the first place, and while when sober it made her antsy and uncertain, right now she's free to just enjoy it for what it is; caring without the reluctance that normally cloaks the urge. ] Tython, or somewhere with lakes and good trees and rocks to climb. Where would you go?
booty booty booty booty rockin everywhere
Tython. ( Maybe it's taking advantage of her intoxication - although he's never claimed to be even a halfway decent person - but he's unabashed in the way he takes in the poorly illuminated angles of her face: the hollows underneath her eyes, thrown by the light of the communicator; the splatter of freckles over the rise of one cheekbone not totally dissipated into shadow; the lone ring of green hanging in the brown of her eyes, solidly aglow in the contrast between his call and the darkness of the room beyond. The bow of her mouth, and the memory of it against his own. )
Wherever you want to go. ( Pause. ) As long as the humidity is somewhere below ninety-eight percent.
a star wars story
You'll go anywhere I want? [ One eyebrow rose, her eyes flashing in a drowsy challenge. ]
baby just say yes
As long as the humidity is somewhere below ninety-eight percent. ( This is important, all things considered, and bears repeating. Never mind that it's easier to parrot than it is to come up with original statements.
So, so stupid.
He'll just. Get up. And do anything else other than sit there because there is a thread of anxious energy running like an electrical current underneath his skin. )
And no sarlaccs.
LMAO I CAN'T. WHAT DID YOU DO HERE
Tython. [ Her turn to echo herself, watching as the image of him shifted while he moved around. Rey narrowed her eyes and lifted the communicator up from where she propped it holding it above her so that she could look up at it while she stayed laying down. ] Right now?
i claim no responsibility
You're already intoxicated. Why add reckless to the equation?
( He sits, this time on a cot jutting from the wall of the shuttle he's currently occupying. He props the comm on a side table so that they are more or less facing one another, wrists braced on his knees, nearly leveling with her. )
taylor swift is somewhere killing us softly with her song
[ Rey rolled back onto her side and propped the comm once more, adjusting the blanket after it slipped down past her collarbone, for decency's sake. Her lips parted as though she meant to speak but she hesitated, her face falling as she looked down at the bed beneath her. ] Would you even tell me you'd go anywhere with me if I hadn't been drinking?
YOU'RE NOT MY HOMELAND ANYMORE
I could ask you the same question. ( Because, at this point, they both know the nuances and accuracy of that particular inquiry, but maybe right now he's the only one who understands the severity of both the question itself and the answer. The angle now, though, is interesting, and he chews the inside of his cheek, eyeing her clavicle under the blanket almost warily. ) I would confidently put money on 'no.'
KYLO HAD A MARVELOUS TIME RUINING EVERYTHING
You'll know where I am. [ It's an invitation wrapped in her own rumination. Though the haze of drink softened the sharp edges that existed at absolutely all points of the thing that existed between them, Rey knew however hazily that they existed. She understood why he would step around the invitation, but she was not sober enough to care much about stopping her penchant for pressing at it ]
but it would have been fun if rey would've been the one
I know where you are now. ( In the abstract, at least, and that's clear in his tone. He's never really had to deal with anyone in this state before but it's simultaneously aggravating and endearing. He wants to say - no it's stupid but it's going to come out before he has a chance to catch this runaway train of thought - ) What are you wearing under the blanket?
( - which immediately slams back into him with the speed of the freight that ran away from him in the first place because Leia Organa didn't raise no fuckboy. ) Sorry.
( Hopefully she's recording this because it's highly unlikely he'll ever apologize for anything ever again. )
no subject
For a moment Rey only stared at him before she began to laugh, not at him of course as much as the weird, awkward combination of feelings his question had caused to bloom to life in her mind as a result of it. All that nervous, giddy energy had to go somewhere, and Rey channeled it into laughter. ]
Another blanket, and under that, another blanket. [ And had she delivered it in that wearily dry tone she so often lapsed into while stuck in the trenches of their personal war, it would have come as a shutdown. Instead she was grinning, of all things, her eyes narrowing wryly at him. The blanket had fallen back below her collarbone, answering his question for her, and for a moment that was definitely going on for much too long, she did not adjust it. ]
no subject
You can't possibly be that cold. ( Suggestive? Maybe, but he's hardly an expert at this, and despite his pronouncements otherwise, he's still Han Solo's son, and anyone who knows that man knows that his ability to smoothly navigate a conversation is lacking. So it sounds more dubious, even as he maneuvers to lie on his side, propped up on one bent elbow. ) Where are you?
( The leading note in his tone is somehow different even to his own ears. Less command and more layered, genuine curiosity. Exploitation is less on his mind than is trial and error, since Felucia. )
no subject
Something about watching him lay down on his side as she was made the intimacy of the moment feel suddenly multiplied by a thousand. ]
And I'm from a warm planet, I'm always a little cold anywhere else. [ She added while still smiling that wry smile of hers. As if silently implying there was something he could do about that, and they both knew it. ] Where are you? [ His location was fairly arbitrary, but Rey wouldn't let him be the only one making demands. Then, in a rush of wild stupidity, she spoke again. ] And what's under your blanket?
a little tag before driving
I asked first.
overnights some diego your way
that diego is such a heathen
( A lot of this feels like a trap and a situation he should not be taking advantage of, but when allowances are rationed out like sips of water during a drought, he finds that the overwhelming scratch of the dryness in his throat is too much to contend with. He's felt the bow of that waist through the leather creaking in his palm as he's flexed his fingers, but his hands are bare now and there is no sensory memory to bridge the gap between reality as it stands and reality as he's experienced it before. )
I was aiming for the planet but apparently alcohol makes you only slightly more agreeable.
no subject
no subject
( If he can conceptualize the planet on his end, could he project himself there intentionally, rather than one of them accidentally stumbling into it? The academic nuances of their predicament are only slightly less interesting to him than the rise and fall of that blanket with the cadence of her breath, but Kylo is resolutely not addressing that. )
This is a video call. Where else should I look?
no subject
Nowhere else. [ Rey's voice was quiet, focusing on the dark of his eyes and the slope of his nose, trying to bring him closer to her, like she wanted to silently will him through the screen. He had been nice to hold. It had been nice to forget, to be breathless for a reason that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with its opposite. Maybe if he pushed, she could pull. ]
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. )
no subject
Then, she can feel him trying, and without giving a moment's thought to any item on the lengthy list of reasons why she shouldn't, Rey reached for him. She couldn't stretch her hand forward for him to take this time, leaving her to project the desire to do so, her thoughts centering on the shape of his silhouette and the warmth of his body pressed against hers. ]
no subject
He could also blame this lapse in judgment on the bleed between Rey and himself through their connection and claim that he was drunk, but Kylo doubts that the swimming sensation in his head has anything to do with blood alcohol content. But it's fun to explore it as an option. He sits up.
Of course, nothing happens at first, not for a while, and he listens to the whir of the shuttle around him, cutting through hyperspace like a blade. Of course, nothing happens at first but when it does, it's as subtle as it's always been, enough that he doesn't even notice at first. It's the drop in air pressure and then its rise, gravity pressing down on his shoulders, the back of his neck. He's still sitting there, knees akimbo, heels pressed nearly together on the floor, fingers curled under the edge of the cot. He doesn't even have to look behind him to know. )
Comfortable? ( He's asked the same question of at least one other person before, though this time the sarcasm is laced with a little less hostility than it had been then. )
burns it all down
Her eyes closed as the air seemed to still and dip inwards on itself like it needed to take a breath before the universe could go on. Without moving Rey let her eyes down, looking along the line of her bed to where his shape interrupts the empty space. Inside her chest her heart twisted in a way that would have seemed unnatural had she not already become very aware of how completely right he could feel.
Propping herself up on one elbow Rey held the blanket against herself, her eyes flashing when his voice broke the silence but she said nothing in response. He would turn around, she knew, and he would see that unabashedly gentle smile on her face and the way her eyes narrowed, welcoming and glad and challenging, shoving away the conflict that had the ability to rip them both to pieces in favor of self-indulgence, and a yearning for the closeness they'd had no business discovering between them in the first place. ]
lights an xmas fire with this wine
He should stand, despite reaching out to her in some capacity in the first place. He should walk away, despite doing his part to close the distance between them whether by feet or parsecs, whether by physicality alone or through whatever strange bridge still connects them through the Force. If anything, he should remain seated just the way that he is, facing away, if only because he knows what's under the drape of that blanket. Still, there is only so much self-control in the galaxy. )
No answer? ( He can see her plainly when he turns to look at her, just the sharp line of his eye at first and then the entirety of his shoulders to follow as he turns, one hand plunged precariously next to her in the sheets but not touching. The fragility of the line that stretches between them, like a thread of woven, brittle glass, doesn't escape him, both in the physical sense and in terms of how her mood and attitude toward him might impact it.
The corner of his mouth quirks, definitely not a smile but not lacking in some degree of familiarity either, almost bordering on affection. ) That's highly unlike you.
WHY I HAVE THIS ICON FOR 500 ALEX
She sat up slowly, willing and pulling and trying everything she could to make whatever this was as real and tangible as possible. Her blanket secured she continued to stay quiet, shifting across the narrow expanse of her bunk until she was just behind him. With a soft sigh that somehow sounded both weighty and gentle at the same time Rey shut her eyes and leaned forward, resting her chin against his shoulder. ]
I thought you'd enjoy the quiet. [ She said after a moment, letting her eyes flutter open and dart to the side, tilting her head to better study his face in profile as she did.
He was here, and what a disaster it was.
After a moment of hesitation Rey's hand came up, resting lightly on his shoulder as she stayed put, half curled against his side, peering over his shoulder while she rest her head on him. ]
what is the christmas spirit
idk didn't taylor swift sing about it
funnily enough i listened to her christmas song this morning
they should go to a life day tree farm.
and then have a christmast vacation experience immediately following
ben but in antlers.
the chanel antlers
only the most elegant choice
like his uncle before him
i'm the worst i know