When Rey hugs Finn, all she can think is Force, I don’t want to let you go.
Every minute that goes by on the Falcon feels like half a century. She can’t look away from him: his broad shoulders, his smile, the way his eyes go soft and warm when he glances back and realizes she’s looking.
They’re crammed in together, sixty-eight Resistance survivors in a ship made to fit fifteen comfortably, and there’s barely a private corner let alone an empty room. Rey swallows down her desire. Curls up under her cloak and tries to rest.
for @pearwaldorf, some “let the space orphans fuck” post-TLJ Finn/Rey manifesto
you be the moon, i’ll be the earth (and when we burst, start over) – notcaycepollard – Star Wars Sequel Trilogy [Archive of Our Own]
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