Selfishness in Silence

Cumbersome

She awoke one night to what she was sure was him sitting with his back to her, simply just... there. But before her eyes could adjust, he was gone, a ghostly shadow fleeing the sunlight. Another morning while with Poe on a mission to negotiate terms for financing their cause, she'd felt a shock of pain through her knuckles. It traveled along her wrist and all the way up into her shoulder. She'd attempted to mask her expression, but Poe caught the tightening of her jaw. The pain only abated hours after the negotiations were complete and curious bruises darkened her skin, but her hand remained tender days afterward.

Tonight she sits with Rose in companionable silence, her hands folded in her lap, her hair sweaty and frazzled. Rose opposite her toys with her necklace, the old boots she wears worn thin. The maroon pullover does little to conceal her injuries she obtained from another escape from the First Order's clutches. Finn had been furious, but what are they if not defiant fools willing to sacrifice.

What is it about us that makes us so willing to meet the sword? Rey muses. Why must we be the ones to make the stand alone?

Rose winces as she adjusts her shoulder.

"You should go rest." Rey murmurs glancing over at her.

"No. I'm not leaving you by yourself tonight." she replies bluntly.

Rey averts her eyes, glaring at the console beside her. "I'm fine."

"You always say that." she counters. "Finn might not call you on it, but I will. Something's troubling you."

"We're all troubled Rose."

She shakes her head. "Beyond that. I'm not blind, Rey."

And she thought Rose would be the least troublesome with her questions. Ironic... like so many things in her life, she supposes. On the dunes of Jakku life was simple, an endless loop of survival she came to appreciate. How could she not? To disregard it meant death. Simple. Basic. Hunger had been her constant companion then, her sole purpose. Now...?

"Rey?"

She looks up, finding Rose's shrewd eyes assessing her, filing away even the most minute facial change. Rey swallows dryly, plastering a smile on her face she knows Rose won't believe, but it doesn't matter. "I'm fine, Rose. Really," and before Rose can oppose her she gets to her feet. "I'm actually a little tired, now. You should get some rest, too."

Rey never stops, Rose's stern tone as she calls her name following her all the way to her quarters.

The door slides down behind her with a hiss and she's finally alone. The glass window before her shows a vastly lit city, magnificent and glittering against the night sky, but she finds it overwhelming. She'd rather sit in the darkness staring up at the stars. There is a true city, she thinks. An endless land of possibilities and planets never before charted. How many nights has she looked up to those stars and wished... so many things.

Changing into her nightwear, she collapses onto her bed, not even bothering with the ratty quilt to protect her from the abnormal winter cold of this place. The Skywalker lightsaber glints at her from the table across the room, its two halves summoning an ache in her heart. They look so lonely, so violent in their separation. She turns away, facing the wall.

Sleep eventually finds her, but it is as restless and churning as the sea.

.

.

She dreamed of him again, making it the third time this week and they are only getting worse. A part of her wonders if he can feel them, too. She blushes at that. The dreams are only pieces, jagged reflections of a whole, but each time he comes closer... or maybe she does. It's never clear, only the feelings are explicit. And they are slowly suffocating her.