[There's no resistance when she reaches to his cheek. His eyes are drawn to her's, and the extra contact forces him to acknowledge her presence. Don't be afraid. But he is. He's always been afraid. She saw it in him, in what feels like a different time.
It's just me. There is no just her. What they were doing here proved that. They circled one another like two predators sizing one another up, never quite crossing the entire length of the bridge between them because of fundamental differences in their moral centers. She was a threat to him, the same way he was a threat to her --
-- no. That's not quite right.
Something clicks into place. The vision. They were not threats to one another, they were a force to be reckoned with, if they could stand to find a commonality. And right now, they had several. Snoke. The bond. Hathaway.
Somewhere between all of this compartmentalization, he stops looking through her and sees her again. The concern in her expression, her own fear like a mirror. The next inhale she tries to force, he finds himself matching. Rapid blinking pulls everything back into focus, and the ice of his fear melts and crystallizes.
He swallows it down, and it drops like a stone in his stomach. Not gone, but no longer relevant to the present. What would have happened, if he had not found reasoning? Would the tide have consumed them? Would it have forced their separation?]
no subject
It's just me. There is no just her. What they were doing here proved that. They circled one another like two predators sizing one another up, never quite crossing the entire length of the bridge between them because of fundamental differences in their moral centers. She was a threat to him, the same way he was a threat to her --
-- no. That's not quite right.
Something clicks into place. The vision. They were not threats to one another, they were a force to be reckoned with, if they could stand to find a commonality. And right now, they had several. Snoke. The bond. Hathaway.
Somewhere between all of this compartmentalization, he stops looking through her and sees her again. The concern in her expression, her own fear like a mirror. The next inhale she tries to force, he finds himself matching. Rapid blinking pulls everything back into focus, and the ice of his fear melts and crystallizes.
He swallows it down, and it drops like a stone in his stomach. Not gone, but no longer relevant to the present. What would have happened, if he had not found reasoning? Would the tide have consumed them? Would it have forced their separation?]
It's getting stronger.
[Quiet, and breathless.]