An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Ben.”
He’s got the steering wheel locked in a death vise, but then her left hand closes on his right, and it’s like electricity is suddenly pouring through him.
When was the last time someone touched him? Leaving Massachusetts? No, his mother had only been a voice crackling through satellites. Certainly no one at school — unless maybe Phasma punched him in the arm as a joke. She can show her affection in somewhat violent ways.
Rey slips her fingers under Ben’s, squeezing his hand for the briefest moment before falling away.
A shiver runs through him, curling into the nape of his neck and making his hair stand on end. When he turns to look at Rey her eyes are huge like a doe’s, soft and radiating concern.
He’d do anything to feel her touch again.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781924/chapters/52440475
