"it's what we were meant to do."
there is a peculiar taste in her mouth , a flavour rey has yet to grow used to , and she turns it inside of her mouth over and over , holds it against her tongue and tears it apart piece by piece, as if delay will multiply it & line an empty stomach. there is no need to do this here , of course : though the resistance talks of rationing , there is an abundance of food rey has never seen before , and doubts she will ever see again. there are things in life one should not get used to. like kindness , the abundance of it , reflected in confidently firm eyes.
rey does not know what to do with it , this kindness in eyes that match the eyes of a killer only in color , though in secret she finds that the light of it is as warm as the sun , only not as deadly. leia speaks , and silence lingers : rey chews on the words , sets them apart syllable by syllable , puts them back together only to start over again , the desperation of a child who has known nothing but the wait. once , rey was told she was meant to be a scavenger : she was a small child , and could fit in the unhabited corners of a fallen ship , and her skinny and malnurished fingers could reach where adults' could not. it was all she has ever been good at & all she has ever known.
she knows what she tastes, now, in the back of her throat : fear. it wraps itself around its neck, and beckons her name, its voice familiar in its mocking , and rey finds herself longing for the heat of jakku, and the coarseness of sand. ‘ i don't understand , ’ she hears her own voice , an attempt at stubborn defiance , though to her it sounds more like the beggings of a child ‘ why it has to be me. i'm not --- ’ she thinks of the basement of maz' castle , of han's fall , of finn's wounded back. she thinks of a voice , so familiar , calling out for her. she thinks of a dragon with two suns for eyes. ‘ why would luke skywalker come back for me? ’
⭒ 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 : @slayhutts