He doesn't. That's easy enough. Her grip feels like the only think keeping him sitting, in this war against both his curiosity and what little caution he possesses. The part of him that wants the belief Rey puts in him is desperate to hold on. Maybe he needs her help --
Breathe.
He tries, and his breath hitches. No. He can't. The part of him that refuses attachment, the part of him that fears being consumed by the things that make him weak and the vulnerabilities that promise to be his downfall, fights back. It wants to force separation from that part that desires to explore this connection, the part that causes him to desire Rey's company in any way. As an apprentice. As an equal.
Fear crackles down his spine, lances across his expression, etching the split in his soul even deeper. He looks for anything else to focus on, anything but her face or their hands entwined together. He has to do this, if only to make certain that she would not have control of the narrative if the Force opted to demand more from this connection than he wanted to give.
And when he comes to that conclusion, the room falls a little more into focus. He can hear her breathing again, instead of the pressing silence that threatened to cut them off, but the knot that sits in his chest hasn't untangled itself. He can feel his face growing hot from his refusal to take breath.
He can't breathe. He can't move. He's paralyzed by his own loop of thoughts -- and though he doesn't voice it, his fear stretches out like ice from his hand, bleeding into their surroundings.]
no subject
He doesn't. That's easy enough. Her grip feels like the only think keeping him sitting, in this war against both his curiosity and what little caution he possesses. The part of him that wants the belief Rey puts in him is desperate to hold on. Maybe he needs her help --
Breathe.
He tries, and his breath hitches. No. He can't. The part of him that refuses attachment, the part of him that fears being consumed by the things that make him weak and the vulnerabilities that promise to be his downfall, fights back. It wants to force separation from that part that desires to explore this connection, the part that causes him to desire Rey's company in any way. As an apprentice. As an equal.
Fear crackles down his spine, lances across his expression, etching the split in his soul even deeper. He looks for anything else to focus on, anything but her face or their hands entwined together. He has to do this, if only to make certain that she would not have control of the narrative if the Force opted to demand more from this connection than he wanted to give.
And when he comes to that conclusion, the room falls a little more into focus. He can hear her breathing again, instead of the pressing silence that threatened to cut them off, but the knot that sits in his chest hasn't untangled itself. He can feel his face growing hot from his refusal to take breath.
He can't breathe. He can't move. He's paralyzed by his own loop of thoughts -- and though he doesn't voice it, his fear stretches out like ice from his hand, bleeding into their surroundings.]