Something has shifted between them and he knows it: he just isn't sure yet of the extent of it. If he were he may have leaned down, may have tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together, as if giving her a declaration of intent: yes, he'll stay, in more ways than she knows.
But there is also her bruised back, and her fear of people coming back to reproach her, and it's not the time. He is more than happy to hold her, keep her company.
"I'll stay," he murmurs, rubbing his fingertips against her scalp a little to make her smile. "I'll stay until you tell me to go."
And she does smile, easy and unburdened and entirely because of him. Her eyes even drift closed for a second while she enjoys that, while she leans into his touch like a satisfied cat.
But then he finishes up with that and she opens her eyes again, is still smiling when she moves her hand up to press her palm to his cheek.
"If that were the case you might be stuck here for days."
Like she'd leaned into his touch, he leans into hers now. He looks softer like this, int he low light of the Falcon, his eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners.
Her thumb rubs absently against the skin of his cheek and she can't look away from him now, how peaceful he looks, how happy. He's like a mirror of how she feels and honestly, the more time they spend this close the less locking herself in her room with him feels like a joke. That could actually be something she would want to do.
He smiles, just slightly, and leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. Like this, it's as close to a kiss as he can get without doing it- when that doesn't feel right, not yet, when he suspects she may only just have realized how he feels about her.
This way, he can close his eyes and feel her against him, breathe her in and rest with her. It's comforting when he didn't even know he'd needed it.
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Something has shifted between them and he knows it: he just isn't sure yet of the extent of it. If he were he may have leaned down, may have tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together, as if giving her a declaration of intent: yes, he'll stay, in more ways than she knows.
But there is also her bruised back, and her fear of people coming back to reproach her, and it's not the time. He is more than happy to hold her, keep her company.
"I'll stay," he murmurs, rubbing his fingertips against her scalp a little to make her smile. "I'll stay until you tell me to go."
no subject
But then he finishes up with that and she opens her eyes again, is still smiling when she moves her hand up to press her palm to his cheek.
"If that were the case you might be stuck here for days."
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"Well, we didn't stock up for nothing, Rey. Eh?"
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"And you brought that cream. We're set, I'd say."
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This way, he can close his eyes and feel her against him, breathe her in and rest with her. It's comforting when he didn't even know he'd needed it.