Ah! Thank you for the last one! Here’s another ;) Damerey #55!
#55: “Just shut up and kiss me already!”
Poe had found himself locked in a utility closet…
With the last Jedi. Who was currently steaming mad at him.
“C’mon, Dameron, you could at least act like the very idea doesn’t repulse you.” In the dim emergency lighting, he could see her perched on a crate that used to house koyo melons. He tried to focus on that little detail, and not the way her foot was swinging back and forth like the tail of an angry Loth-cat, or the way her hair was out of its usual three-bun style, cascading in chestnut waves around her slender shoulders. Distract yourself, Dameron, don’t think about - that thing you don’t think about.
“I didn’t say the idea was repulsive,” Poe protested. Rey snorted and kicked her foot against the crate with a resounding, irritated thwack. Her arms crossed in front of her chest, and Poe heaved a sigh, tapping his chronometer to check the time.
“There’s four and a half minutes left,” Rey snapped. “In case you were considering chewing your leg off to get away from me.” Gods, she was right. They did have four and a half minutes left - four minutes, 36 seconds, to be exact. He could do this.
He didn’t know whose bright idea it was to play Seven Minutes in A’philiar, but he was going to make them pay (It was probably Jess. Jess always suggested Seven Minutes in A’philiar). And he’d be checking those dice, too. Poe was eight-five percent certain they were loaded.
“Some party,” Rey muttered, resting her head against the durasteel hull behind her. “Are they all this disappointing?”
“This was your first party?” Poe asked before wincing. Gods, he was ruining her first party. No one wanted to be trapped in a closet with a man twelve years older than them, while their friends chanted kiss kiss kiss KISS KISS outside the door, at their first party.
“Not really a room for a lot of revelry on Jakku,” Rey commented dryly, pretending to examine her nails. “Shocking, I know.”
“Ah.” Four minutes left. He could do this.
Rey sniffed. He turned away from the door which he’d been staring at impatiently and looked at Rey through the low light. Was she allergic to something?
Oh Kriff. She was crying. All his disaster-aversion training, and he had absolutely nothing for “beautiful and unattainable woman starts crying after being locked in closet with you during bizarre and honestly problematic party game.”
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