"Fuck 'em. They'll tease me regardless, might as well be because I've got
the best girl in the multiverse on me arm," he says, shifting to kiss the
palm of her hand.
Of course, in the past few days he's been worried sick- something Nina said
when he caught her sleepwalking. But he's not going to bother her with that
until she's better.
And as poorly as Rey has been doing, she hasn't even noticed. It's something she'll feel bad for later, but it's also going to be just one more drop in bucket because it seems to her like everything these last few months has been something to make him worry about her.
She hates that, honestly.
"I wish we were still on the island," she says quietly, eyes fluttering shut despite how hard she tries to keep them open. They were happy there, and she was warm, and she could see a real sky whenever she looked up instead of stars that weren't real or metal ceilings.
She curls into him easily, like she's always been meant to fit there and it just took the Barge to put them together to give her the chance to claim her place.
"Yes," she agrees at once, because she honestly can't remember a time in her life she's been happier than when they were curled up on a blanket together watching the sun come up. "Are there places like that in- England?" She takes a second to remember the right name of the place he's from, tries to get it to sound a little more natural on her tongue if she's going to be living there.
"No," he says, frankly- because there aren't. "We don't have the right
climate there. It's wet, and a little too dark and cold. No sandy beaches
in Birmingham."
He sounds a little sorry for it, like he's whisking her off somewhere
worse.
"Mm, that's okay," she murmurs softly, rubbing a hand along his arm to keep him from sounding like he's letting her down. "We can travel. See your world together."
She likes the idea of that, of it being new for both of them.
That's much better. She smiles softly, tucks herself into the last little bit of space that had been left between them.
"I'm getting better at riding," she says, just suggestive enough to make it a joke. They haven't done that since she got worse because she's been too afraid of hurting him, too afraid of what might happen, and if they talk about it it keeps it from being something that feels like a failure on her part. She doesn't feel bad for not being able to sleep with him, but she does miss it. It's just one more thing this sickness is keeping her from and she resents it for keeping her from doing what she'd like to be doing with him.
Which, she thinks, makes sense. They've just recently confessed their love, all she wants to do is show that.
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"Fuck 'em. They'll tease me regardless, might as well be because I've got the best girl in the multiverse on me arm," he says, shifting to kiss the palm of her hand.
Of course, in the past few days he's been worried sick- something Nina said when he caught her sleepwalking. But he's not going to bother her with that until she's better.
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She hates that, honestly.
"I wish we were still on the island," she says quietly, eyes fluttering shut despite how hard she tries to keep them open. They were happy there, and she was warm, and she could see a real sky whenever she looked up instead of stars that weren't real or metal ceilings.
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"I know, love," he whispers, nuzzling into her hair and shifting her so she can come and sit on his lap a little more.
"Me too. But we had a good time while it lasted, didn't we?"
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"Yes," she agrees at once, because she honestly can't remember a time in her life she's been happier than when they were curled up on a blanket together watching the sun come up. "Are there places like that in- England?" She takes a second to remember the right name of the place he's from, tries to get it to sound a little more natural on her tongue if she's going to be living there.
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"No," he says, frankly- because there aren't. "We don't have the right climate there. It's wet, and a little too dark and cold. No sandy beaches in Birmingham."
He sounds a little sorry for it, like he's whisking her off somewhere worse.
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She likes the idea of that, of it being new for both of them.
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He sounds like he could very well live with that idea.
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"I'm getting better at riding," she says, just suggestive enough to make it a joke. They haven't done that since she got worse because she's been too afraid of hurting him, too afraid of what might happen, and if they talk about it it keeps it from being something that feels like a failure on her part. She doesn't feel bad for not being able to sleep with him, but she does miss it. It's just one more thing this sickness is keeping her from and she resents it for keeping her from doing what she'd like to be doing with him.
Which, she thinks, makes sense. They've just recently confessed their love, all she wants to do is show that.