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Rey arrived without fanfare on the planet Bespin.

The brilliant light of the setting sun reflected off mirrored towers dotting the planet’s blazing landscape. As far as she could see, there were towering skyscrapers pebbled among the clouds - the one true staple of Cloud City. The atmosphere, breathable and refreshing though it was, was far from any solid ground. From this high up, with sunset imminent, casting the city into lengthy shadows, Rey might imagine this was the only city in the whole galaxy.

But when she exited the roof and entered the first suite on the right, she was reminded that wasn’t the case.

He stood, hands clasped behind him, back straight, feet planted shoulder-width apart. His body was stiff like a board, but lean and so, so tall. Towering, like the skyscrapers outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. His cloak lay neatly folded on a champagne-colored divan, and even an intensive scan of the room didn’t reveal the whereabouts of his mask.

Maybe he didn’t bring it, Rey thought with relief, and wondered at herself for caring.

Tilting her chin up, she stepped into the room, the door to the suite sliding soundlessly closed behind her. He didn’t move, and neither did she, for a span of thirty infinite seconds. Rey imagined he could hear the steady beat of her heart from across the room, the way her breathing was a concentrated steadiness. Everything about her was tense - not stiff like him, but wary and alert. Ready for anything.

“You’re late,” he rumbled in that low, precise tone of voice that meant he’d grown impatient.

No, she nearly said - and in fact opened her mouth to snap back at him. Instead, she refocused on her breathing and kept her face neutral. Argument is what he’s after, she reminded herself. This is the kind of day we’re having, then.

“I’m not sure Cloud City was our best option, after all,” she said, ignoring his complaint.

He didn’t turn around, and even now continued to speak with his back to her, the orange rays of the setting sun streaking the sides of his pale face. “For the moment, it’s our only option.”

“Someone’s bound to spot one of us -”

He shook his head, a quick, subtle movement that was as effective as if he’d clapped a hand over her mouth. “Not at this time of year. The denizens of this city prefer their days long. They’ll return when the weather turns fair.”

His voice went distant, as if he thought of memories long buried. Rey could only imagine, and for a moment, she allowed herself to do so.

She knew that Leia and Han had been close to the infamous Lando Calrissian, who at one point during their younger years took up residence right here in Cloud City. Rey wondered what stories the old pilot might’ve told to a young, impressionable Ben. The thought nearly pushed a smile to her lips, but it faltered almost as fast.

“Enough about the weather,” she said with a weary sigh. “Are we going to do this or not?”

Finally, Kylo Ren turned around, his movements precise, controlled. Just like the expression on his face, his body revealed nothing of his state of mind. A flash of dark brown eyes, the pull of the livid scar on his right cheek, tousled black hair seemingly windblown and disheveled - Kylo stood proudly before her, hands clasped tightly out of sight.

Strangely, his eyes caught on her face, and they stuck there. Rey wondered what he was searching for. Does he know something I don’t?

Despite herself, Rey probed their mysterious Force-bond for clues. On more than one occasion, and without much forethought, Rey had tried to penetrate the bond, to check in on Kylo, where he was or what he might be doing. Ascertaining his mood was usually easier than trying to pry his whereabouts directly from his mind, but today she was unable to expose anything. She hit a brick wall and retreated before he noticed her attempt.

Kylo stepped to the side abruptly, extending a hand to the plush sofa. “Shall we?”

Rey kept him in her peripheral vision as she moved hesitantly from the foyer to the living space. Her eyes caught on the exquisite detail of the room - the beautiful murals swirling across the ceiling, the priceless art lining the walls, the thick carpet beneath her feet, every fixture and piece of furniture in the room beyond value. Even now, after all that had happened, everything she’d seen and all the places she’d traveled, such careless wealth made her breath catch.

Rey took a seat on the very edge of the couch, and Kylo scoffed even as he moved to sit on the adjacent cushion, far closer than she anticipated. They were little more than a foot apart, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“After all this time, you still don’t believe in this.” Oddly, he didn’t sound angry, only… Rey wasn’t sure, exactly. Hurt wasn’t the right word, but it was close.

“Oh, I believe in what we’re doing,” she retorted, eyes narrowed. “I don’t necessarily believe in who I’m doing it with.”

“If your intent is to wound me, you’ll have to try harder than that,” he muttered, opening a file left on the coffee table. Spreading what at first looked to be scans of First Order documents out on the table, he shuffled all the contents until they were clearly visible.

“Is this all of them?” Rey’s eyes were drawn to the top of each durasheet, where the names of sectors, planets, cities, and coordinates were writ in bold capitals. Kylo’s handwriting was exquisite; perfectly calligraphic, cleaner and more legible than half the printed type she’d seen.

“Yes,” he said, and fell silent.

Kylo turned his head, a very subtle movement she would’ve missed if he hadn’t been so close. She sensed his eyes on her face, tracking expressions, movements. The thought of him examining her was an uncomfortable one, so she did her best to ignore his nearness.

Rey was quiet for several minutes as she poured over the documents. These were First Order files, designated top secret, of course, and only the highest ranking officials had access to such information. Kylo, as Supreme Leader and heir to the dark side, had encountered no obstacles obtaining such sensitive information. He had smartly chosen to copy down pertinent information on durasheets rather than use a datapad, which could all too easily be traced or hacked. After a few short hours, the contents on durasheets faded forever.

“Four in the Outer Rim alone?” Rey murmured after a while. “How arrogant.”

Kylo scoffed. “Scoundrels and backwater resistance groups are no threat to the First Order.”

“Still,” she pressed, “you’re needlessly courting danger.” Then again, why should she care where the First Order set up weapons depots? “If anything,” she amended quickly, before he could reply, “this makes my job easier.”

The documents were filled with the First Order’s locations for large weapons depots. All in all, there were fourteen: four in the Outer Rim Territories, two in the Mid-Rim, the planet Lysatra in Wild Space, three in the Core Worlds, including Coruscant, two in the Inner Rim, one in the Expansion Region, and one in the Deep Core.

“Is this list comprehensive?”

Kylo gave her a brief, flat stare. “Of course not. This was all I could get my hands on before time ran out. Are you not satisfied?” This last said with a lilt, as if he was on the verge of mocking but couldn’t quite force it.

Rey barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “Yes, it will suffice,” she said shortly. She had quite a good memory and now made it a point to read through all the information twice before storing the durasheets away. There was no concrete time frame for the longevity of durasheets, so the contents could be erased at any time.

“Well,” Kylo said briskly, rising to his feet. Rey, not to be outdone, quickly scampered to her feet too. He would not loom over her today. “I’ll take my leave, then.”

Rey, with an unexplained tightness to her chest, nodded firmly. She opened her mouth to bid him farewell - until next time, she expected - when a shrill chime broke the suite’s quiet. Rey’s hand was on the central grip of her quarterstaff, muscles tensed, before she realized it was Kylo’s comlink. She relaxed - with difficulty.

Rey hesitantly stepped over to the nearest window while he connected. Outside the thick glass of the hotel suite, spacecraft dotted the landscape. She had no idea how far Cloud City was above the surface of the planet, and of course she had no wish to find out. Still, her curiosity was piqued, and her mind ran numbers as she tried to sort through the structural integrity of the nearby buildings, what materials they were composed of, their worth, and how quickly she might scale to Bespin’s surface. All hypothetical, of course, which quickly made her lose interest.

Maybe she should feel suffocated by her inability to venture outdoors. Most of the atmosphere wasn’t breathable for humans, or at least, not for very long. Only certain areas of the planet were oxygen-rich, and the wealthy usually hoarded those spots. There was nothing to catch her if she slipped and fell. The structural integrity of the hotel - which for her was still questionable - and the beautifully adorned walls around her were the only things keeping her solidly in place.

And yet Rey was comfortable here. She was comfortable in any world that wasn’t unbearably hot, any world where people interacted, where commerce happened daily, where things changed. The mindless stretch of Jakku’s desert, the relentless, searing heat of the sun, and the echoing, all-consuming emptiness still woke Rey, panting and in near-physical pain, in the middle of the night.

These memories-turned-nightmares never failed to make her anxious and afraid, however briefly. She knew, intellectually, logically, that that time of her life was over. She would never again visit Jakku, nor would she ever remain long on a similar planet. Those days were over. And yet, in her dreams, where reality took a back seat, where her true fears rose to the surface and forced her to confront her vulnerability, Jakku reared again and again like a gigantic, gape-mouthed monster, the desire to consume her and everything she’d ever felt, seen, heard, and known in such peril she often awoke with muscles stiff from stress.

Bespin was soft and dreamy - beautiful in scenery, filled with mild sunlight and gentle breezes, temperature-controlled and relatively quiet during the daytime hours. In a way, despite the planet’s red surface colors, Bespin reminded her of whipped topping - unnecessary but pleasantly fulfilling. Despite the misgivings she’d voiced when first greeting Kylo, Rey had been the one to choose Bespin for their latest rendezvous, and she took great pleasure in this brief but gratifying reprieve.

Resistance life had, lately, been almost unbearably bleak.

Since the Battle of Crait, when Luke had sacrificed himself for the Resistance, Leia’s health had been on the decline. Rey suspected the loss of her twin, especially in such dire circumstances, had broken some irreparable part of the General, who had been witness to the death of nearly every person she’d ever cared for.

Such an existence was heartbreaking. Rey admired, respected, and loved Leia more than any other person alive, but to live as she had lived, to suffer as she had suffered… Rey would rather return to Jakku, a fact she did not offer lightly.

Kylo’s deep voice filtered past these thoughts, crowding out her worries about the Resistance and General Organa. Instead, she was reminded of her current circumstances and the person she was, once more, somehow inextricably connected to.

Ever since their fateful meeting on Snoke’s flagship, Rey and Kylo’s relationship had shifted. Snoke was dead. Kylo Ren was the unofficial Supreme Leader. Master Skywalker’s lightsaber was nothing more than a useless hunk of metal. The Resistance was slowly, painstakingly regrouping, making contact with remaining allies and grasping at every last chance to rebuild. Rey, reunited with Finn and Leia, introduced to Poe and Rose, knew that everything should be okay.

And yet.

In the three months since their fight onboard the Supremacy, Kylo and Rey had Force-bonded almost a dozen times. Again and again and again, when Rey was training with Leia, when she was reluctantly strategizing with Poe, when she was getting some fresh air with Rose, when she was play-fighting with Chewie, Kylo would appear. No warning, no explanation. One moment she was with her friends, surrounded by Resistance fighters, and then suddenly he would be there too, equally confused, frustrated, and temperamental.

Rey hated this lack of control, the way the Force would bring them together at the most random of times. She’d lost more than her fair share of sleep over it, wondering if he’d seen or heard anything that could give their coordinates, their plans, away.

Most surprising of all, it was he who suggested they finally meet in person. Rey told no one, and despite her serious misgivings, based not only on the outcome of their last in-person meeting in Snoke’s throne room but on the mixed feelings she struggled with daily, she agreed. Maybe it was because he reached out first, but Rey couldn’t say she was too shocked when, with little prompting, Kylo started feeding her information about the First Order.

For as long as she could remember, Rey had felt his struggle. He wanted so badly to be immersed in the dark side, but the light called to him no matter how valiantly he tried to snuff it out.

As apprentice and protege, Kylo Ren had been the single strongest individual she’d ever encountered. As Supreme Leader of the First Order, Kylo Ren had become indomitable. Yet he continuously fed her information under the guise of undermining General Armitage Hux, whom he obviously despised.

The locations of First Order weapons depots was not the first bit of sensitive information Rey had received from the new Supreme Leader. This was only their fourth face-to-face meeting, and yet the number of documents Kylo had provided the Resistance was staggering.

She observed him out of the corner of her eye as he spoke rapidly into his comlink. The jagged scar on the right side of his face. (Your fault, a guilty voice reminded her, as if she could forget.) The slight parting of his unusually plump lips. The tiny furrow between his thick eyebrows. The deep rumble of his voice, dangerous yet, in an odd sense she was unable to explain away, comforting.

What does he want? she wondered, not for the first time. What does he really want?

With one last, lingering look at the Bespin skyline, Rey turned from the window just as Kylo disconnected from his comlink. The expression on his face was unreadable. Rey didn’t know how to react to that, so she steeled herself.

“That was my command shuttle,” he said in a low voice. “There appears to be an ion storm brewing in Bespin’s upper atmosphere.”

She didn’t know what this meant, exactly, but she had a feeling it wasn’t going to benefit her. “And?”

“Bespin has sent out a planetwide no-fly order.”

“Oh.” Unperturbed, Rey shrugged. “I don’t see the problem. So you can’t leave the planet until tomorrow.” She felt a minor pang, realizing that the contents of the durasheets would vanish long before she could bring them to the Resistance. Her memory would have to suffice. “Looks like you’ll just have to -”

“There’s also been an attempted terrorist attack. Unrelated to either the Resistance or the First Order,” Kylo continued tonelessly, interrupting her. “Bespin has ordered a lockdown.”

This gave her pause. A lockdown? As in… “We’re not allowed to leave?”

He nodded curtly. “Bespin issued a shelter-in-place directive, and since both of us are members of organizations the planet’s government doesn’t recognize in any official capacity, we mustn’t leave this suite.”

Or else risk being killed, a small voice in the back of her head whispered.

Her brain was still catching up with all of this sudden information, but she was cognizant enough to recognize that this was Not Good. In fact, this was Very Not Good.

“Both of us,” she said finally, her thoughts scrambling into a semi-coherent order. “Both of us have to stay here. In this suite. Together.”

“It seems so,” he said dryly, tilting his head.

“For how long?” she blurted, hoping her desperation wasn’t showing. She sure felt desperate enough.

Locked inside this glamorous hotel suite, unable to leave not only the planet itself but this very room, for an unquantifiable amount of time, with her brutal, long-standing adversary, was not exactly how Rey thought this day was going to go.

“At least one cycle,” he said stiffly, seeming vaguely uncomfortable.

One cycle. Rey quickly shifted through the few facts she knew of Bespin’s daily rotation. One cycle, she realized with growing horror, was twelve hours.

I’m going to be stuck with Kylo Ren for twelve hours! Her mind lit up with various alarms, the terrifying possibilities flying through her head at lightspeed. He could kill me in my sleep. He could manipulate me into giving up Resistance secrets. He could use the Force to get inside my mind again. He could -

Her thoughts came screeching to a halt. She rewound a bit and settled on “sleep.”

Swiveling slowly, Rey’s eyes caught on the doorway to the suite’s bedroom. The only bedroom. Which meant…

There’s only one bed.

“You’re sleeping on the floor!” she burst out, panicked.

Kylo’s face remained neutral - for the most part. His lips twisted up, very subtly, into an expression Rey didn’t at first recognize. It took her the better part of a minute to realize he was smirking.

“I won’t be sleeping at all,” he retorted, arching an eyebrow. “So do make yourself comfortable.”

Indignant, and slightly stung by his sarcasm, she murmured, “Stay out of the bedroom and you won’t lose any limbs.”

It seemed to her this was hardly an amusing situation, but as she stalked, fuming, towards the bedroom, she swore she heard the low rumble of his laughter.

The Ylinbury Hotel had many amenities: gilded faucets, satin upholstery, instantaneous room service, and even, outrageously, ruby-encrusted soap. Yet for all that, Rey was forced to sleep in her day clothes.

Although the suite’s one bed had been offered to her with no small amount of derision, Rey eagerly accepted the chance to sleep on a bed big enough to fit six of her. She was tired from a long day of traveling, and the floor was hard, and the circumstances were not ideal. Just because Kylo was snide about the sleeping arrangements did not mean she had to forgo comfort when it was offered.

Still dressed in her usual scavenger robes - designed for maneuverability now, not just climate, and upgraded to reflect her position within the Resistance - Rey set her quarterstaff to the side, leaning it against the bedside table with care, before slipping an extremely sharp-edged dagger beneath the mountain of pillows before the headboard. Ever since the near-destruction of the Skywalker lightsaber aboard Snoke’s flagship, she had been unable to bring herself to mend it.

Rey had taken off her boots after a moment of hesitation - should she keep them on in case she needed to move at a moment’s notice? - deciding that the silky smoothness of the sheets and duvet needn’t be ruined by her dirty soles. A wise decision, she thought now as she leaned back on the pillows with a satisfied sigh.

After the initial shock of sharing the same space with Kylo for an undetermined amount of time, Rey had remained curiously unworried. She knew the Force would warn her should he attempt to harm her while she slept. With little effort, maybe due to their close confines, she could not only sense his whereabouts but his general mood as well.

Right now, his emotions were at a low simmer - some frustration and wariness, mixed with exhaustion and that ever-present, barely contained rage. She knew intuitively that his rage wasn’t directed at her, but rather at their circumstances, and besides, his rage was his one true link to the dark side. It was always with him. There was another emotion, too, one he was keeping carefully hidden. Rey frowned, unable to put a name to it.

She could hear Kylo moving about in the main room of the suite. He was pacing, it sounded like, the clomping of those heavy boots dulled by the thick carpet. Several times over the course of the last hour he had paused outside the closed bedroom door, but just when Rey began to think he was going to either knock or barge in, his pacing started up again, and the thin line of uncertainty she’d felt in the Force flattened out into a more recognizable impatience.

Lying on her back, submerged in the sheets up to her waist, Rey began to meditate. Deep breaths in to the count of fifteen, deep breaths out to the count of ten. She pushed out all sound, all sensation, all emotion until her mind cleared and her body released every bit of tension that had been building up over the course of the day. The ultimate goal was peace, and even though Leia had told her time and again not to wish, not to want, Rey yearned for that state of mind anyway.

With her mind set free of worries, her body at rest, and her heart beating a slow and steady rhythm, Rey descended into sleep.

The sun was an angry god and Rey its only supplicant.

High noon on Jakku was only slightly worse than any other time of day. There was no foliage to hide under, no oasis to sate an unquenchable thirst, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

The sun’s rays encompassed the entire planet, leaving no part of it unscorched. So bright it was hard to see without squinting her eyes nearly shut. So hot a piece of exposed skin on a foreigner would burn in mere minutes. So hopelessly monotonous that, were one not familiar with the landscape, one could easily be lost in an eyeblink.

Rey had woken that morning drenched in sweat. Disease and illness were unusual on a planet with such isolated inhabitants, but it did happen occasionally. All it took was a single unsuspecting carrier who visited the planet and came into contact with various species at Niima Outpost, and suddenly half the planet’s Jakkuvian population was curled up in sickbeds.

Rey had meant to stick to her normal routine - she could ill afford to do otherwise - but after getting dressed she’d lain back down on her cot and fallen asleep. Three hours later she’d awoken with a gasp and realized that she’d missed her window. It was far too hot to travel, especially when she had to lug her equipment to the next scavenging site, and besides, her body ached terribly, as if she’d been balancing a thousand-pound boulder on her shoulders for hours.

And her throat. She was so unbearably thirsty.

Thoughts dimmed and vision blurred, Rey staggered to her feet and into the open doorway of her AT-AT. Squinting up at the sky, it registered that there wasn’t a single cloud to be seen. Miles and miles of uninterrupted blue, and in the center of it all was the flaming ball of fire that kept the landscape burnt and brutal.

Rey dragged in another breath, the air ripping down her throat. She closed her mouth on a whimper and returned to her cot.

She stuck a hand underneath the frame, searching for water. A container, a flask, even a bowl - anything with moisture. But her hand patted empty floorspace, and it wasn’t long before Rey had to sit up straight, dizziness threatening to overwhelm her. Gasping, she threw a wild glance around the close confines of her residence, hoping to find some water. She didn’t spot any.

And that’s when the first stirrings of panic set in.

She was all alone out here. No one, save for a few local Jakkuvians, knew where she was, and the Teedos certainly couldn’t care less. In fact, they’d likely take the opportunity to steal a few items.

The closest source of water was the Niima Outpost fountain, used to slake the thirst of huge, lumbering beasts who traveled for miles across the desert sands. But Niima Outpost was at least as far as the nearest crash site, and Rey knew she wouldn’t make it.

There must be water somewhere, she thought distantly, pushing herself to her feet. Hands trembling, she stumbled about the AT-AT with dumb hope. How did I forget to stock up my reserves? How could I - ?

The panic was engulfing her now, making it difficult to think, and Rey stumbled into a table. The sharp edge dug deeply into her hip, and she crashed to her knees.

Determination was still there, but dwindling now, and she crawled to the open doorway. Maybe if I scream… But her mouth was desert dry, bone dry, and besides, there was no one around to hear her.

Collapsing in the sand, Rey gasped again and stared up at the endless blue sky. No spacecraft flew by. No clouds drifted. It was only the sun up there, alone like she was down here. Relentless and unforgiving. Scorching her skin and burrowing into her bones. Frying the thin film of her eyes.

Alone. Alone. This word echoed in her head as she spiraled, overtaken by heat, panic, and confusion. She had lived alone, and now she would die alone. No one would ever know her name. She would be forgotten like one of the desert rats, her body discovered only when a clan of desperate Teedos snuck through her residence, curious why the scavenger girl hadn’t appeared to chase them off.

There was an unbearable weight on her chest, as if the boulder that had sat on her shoulders had somehow shifted to her front, the better to suffocate her. So thirsty, she thought dizzily, so thirsty I can’t stand it.

No one’s coming to save you, a small voice hissed in the back of her mind. No one’s coming to take you home. This is how it ends for you. This is how it was always meant to end.

And on and on and on until the panic completely consumed her, ripping through her thoughts like magma, like a burning star, like -

“Rey.”

Hands on her shoulders.

“Rey.”

A voice like a summer night. Warm. Soothing. Familiar.

“Rey!”

Her eyes opened, hand whipping beneath the pillow to grip her dagger before the sound of her name faded from the room.

Pupils dilated, chest heaving, Rey stared up into the dim features of Kylo Ren, who hovered inches above her. His own eyes were extra dark, a crease between his eyebrows that betrayed his concern, and his grip on her shoulders only relaxed fractionally when he saw her eyes open.

“What are you…” Her voice was too breathless, too unsteady. She swallowed and started over. “What are you doing?”

Kylo swiftly leaned back, putting some distance between them, but his hands remained firmly on her shoulders, and his eyes never left her face. “You were having a nightmare,” he said calmly.

Oh. Of course. Rey should’ve guessed. Even now, as she scanned his face for hints of deception, the nightmare came back to her in fragments. The sun. Worrying about thieving Teedos. No water. The confusion and dizziness, the heaviness in her very bones. The panic and then, at the very end, seconds before consciousness descended, the despair.

She was fifteen at the time.

Rey’s eyes flickered to the nearest window. Bespin was completely dark, save for a few points of brilliance. It must be the middle of the night, she thought, surprised she’d gone so long without waking. Usually her nights were split up into various nightmares, two, sometimes three per night. She refocused on Kylo, his features dimly illuminated by the faint glow of a nearby lightsource.

“You can let go of me now,” she said heavily, muscles bunching beneath his hands.

After a moment - a moment which Rey understood to be him exerting his will over hers - Kylo retracted his hands. He didn’t seem entirely certain what to do with them, however, and after an awkward few seconds, he rested them in his lap. Belatedly, Rey realized he was sitting next to her on the bed.

They were on the bed. Together.

Despite herself, Rey flushed a rosy pink. Her cheeks and the tips of her eyes brightened, and it was all she could do to maintain eye contact. Once more, she was all too aware that Kylo was not...unattractive. Out of all the people in the galaxy to be Force-bonded to, it had to be the quintessential stereotype for tall, dark, and handsome?

Shaking her head - what, did that nightmare erase my common sense? - Rey pressed her hands flat on the bed, intent on levering herself upright. She needed to level the playing field during her interactions with Kylo because...well, they were less like conversations and more like battles.

But Kylo immediately replaced his hands on her shoulders, so she only succeeded in losing her breath all over again. Damn it all, he was strong.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded through gritted teeth. “Remove your hands this inst-”

“You were screaming,” he said finally, and his voice was...odd. Not like it normally sounded. Not cold, or aloof, or simmering with rage.

Surprised, Rey stopped pushing against his hands and instead lay flat. Screaming? That wasn’t new, not by any means, but it was embarrassing. She hadn’t had a particularly bad one in quite a long time.

“Yes, well…” She trailed off, uncertain where to go from here.

Kylo ground his teeth together, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “How bad?”

Why do you care? she wondered - genuinely. But instead of voicing this question aloud - she recognized the fragility of the moment, even if she didn’t fully understand it - she swallowed the words down and gave him a true, if vague, answer. “Bad enough.”

He nodded, as if he understood, and for a brief moment Rey knew - she knew - that he experienced similar horrors. He must have nightmares too, she told herself with no small amount of shock. The things Snoke did to him, the voices in his mind telling him how worthless he was, how incompetent… Rey suppressed a shudder.

“Will you sleep?” he asked, gesturing awkwardly at the bed.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I,” she said dryly, then, at the look on his face, added, “It’s something I've learned to deal with. The nightmares, I mean. If I let them get to me, I’d never get a wink.” Belatedly, she shut her mouth to stem her rambling.

Helplessly, his eyes still on her face, as if he could divine impossible secrets from her eyes, Kylo said softly, “Is there anything I can do?”

Rey wasn’t sure where this blatant...kindness...was coming from, this unhindered attempt at reassurance, but she wasn’t going to take it for granted. Neither was she going to risk angering him, like she normally would by needling at him until she hit a weak point.

“No, I don’t believe so,” she replied finally. “I’ll fall back asleep soon enough.”

Frankly not knowing what else to say or do, Rey turned on her side, facing away from Kylo, and closed her eyes firmly. Sleep, sleep, sleep, she commanded herself. This right here, this conversation with Kylo, was unknown territory, and she was afraid to stray too far into it.

A beat passed. Then another. Kylo didn’t move. His weight still sunk the mattress down far enough that she felt his side pressing into her hip.

The thought of such contact with him, here and now, made her pulse flutter. Her palms grew clammy. Why isn’t he moving? she wondered fiercely. Why is he still here? What does he -

A subtle redistribution of weight. What sounded like a sigh. And then -

“Rey.”

Her name, spoken so softly, so carefully, as if he held it in the palm of his hands, a fragile thing.

She didn’t turn.

“Would it make things easier if I left?”

She couldn’t read his voice. He didn’t sound angry, or upset, or even frustrated - the only emotions of his she’d come to recognize as if they were her own. Nor did he sound cold and disdainful. Kylo asked this like he wanted a genuine answer.

In a voice hardly above a whisper, he added, “Or would it be easier if I stayed?”

Rey’s throat tightened, and without consciously thinking about it, she turned and sat up in one fluid motion. Kylo’s entire body tightened, as if bracing for a hit, but when his eyes once more latched on to her face, he relaxed immediately.

“I’ve upset you,” he said then, and it was so clear what he felt: guilt for causing her distress.

She shook her head rapidly. “No. No, that’s not it. I -” Rey opened her mouth, closed it after a beat, then finally said, “Stay.”

Kylo’s entire demeanor changed then. His body relaxed, and only when his shoulders fell did she realize just how tightly he always held himself, how in control of every single aspect of his body he was at all times.

His features softened, the scar on his face fading just a bit, becoming less red, less angry. His mouth, a thin line for most of their conversations, softened as well, his lips flushing pink. He lifted a hand - an enormous, heavily ridged hand - to lightly touch her chin.

“I’ll stay,” he agreed in a low voice. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Rey found herself nodding in return, unable to look away from his gaze. After a moment, she turned and lay back down, tucking her arms in close to her chest, pulling her legs up a little. A familiar position, one that spoke of protection and safety. Create a barrier so no one can hurt you - something she’d told herself ever since she’d become aware of the concept of self-preservation.

Kylo didn’t speak, and neither did Rey. Not for the first ten minutes….or for the next twenty...or for the next thirty.

Around the one-hour mark, Rey’s eyelids grew heavy. She sensed Kylo’s nearness: the positioning of his legs, the reach of his arms, the width of his shoulders, the soft sigh of his breathing.

But as time passed, she grew less distracted and more...reassured. Kylo’s presence brought her the same sense of relief as her bedtime fetal position. More so because, should something actually happen, he could rise to her defense. He could protect her. Suddenly, Rey knew this with absolute certainty.

With this image in mind - Kylo’s broad back facing her, crossguard extended toward an unseen threat, hands spread to ward off danger - Rey quietly slipped back into sleep.

There were no nightmares this time around - or at least, none that lasted. Her dreams were filled with puffy white clouds, gleaming spires, a blue like pure lakewater, like sparkling gems, and the touch of soft silk on her wrists, her shoulder, her forehead.

Lulling, soothing, these dreams enveloped her completely, keeping the nightmares far away. She slept without fear of the Jakku desert, without fear of loneliness, and even when the gentlest of touches against the inside of her wrist woke her, Rey was not alarmed.

Not even when she opened her eyes and looked directly into Kylo’s.

She sucked in a quick breath, his nearness sending her heart into overdrive. He lay on his side, facing her, one arm under his pillow, the other stretched towards her. Even in the dark, she could see - or maybe it was feel - the faint blush that stained his cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly, his midnight voice sliding over her skin like velvet.

Rey realized this was, in no uncertain terms, as close to an apology as she was likely to get from him. But, curiously enough, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t at all upset.

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

He frowned, as if this question displeased him. Or maybe that was confusion in his eyes? “Of course.”

“Oh. I thought maybe -” she stumbled.

And he reached over and pressed a feather-light finger to her lips. A faint smile curved his mouth.

“Rey. Go back to sleep.” And maybe it was her sleep-addled brain but she could swear he sounded amused.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep,” she mumbled archly, already feeling the pull of dreamland.

His words were so faint they were nearly intangible. “I’m too busy watching you.”

Her heart, unsteady these past few minutes, took up uneven palpitations. “Well, of course there’s no way I can fall asleep now.”

The finger on her lip vanished, and then his large hand was sliding around to the back of her neck, where he gripped firmly, like something would try to pry him off should he not hold on tightly enough.

“Try,” he whispered.

Rey, mesmerized by the movement of his lips, swallowed and blurted, “Why are you here?”

“You asked me to stay.” He seemed ready with that answer, as if it were only a matter of time until she’d asked it.

She made a small noise of frustration. “I mean,” she whispered, tapping a finger against the mattress, “why are you here?”

His gaze flickered around the room, settling back on her with eyes that were still unnervingly gentle. “I’ve found it’s quite...difficult...for me to stay away,” he explained haltingly.

Confusion clouded her thoughts, but Kylo seemingly read her mind, or felt it through the Force more likely, and elaborated. “From you, Rey.”

Her mind went absolutely silent, and for a moment she imagined she forgot how to breathe. “M-me?”

Kylo slid closer on the mattress until their breaths were intermingled, until she could see all the fine, gruesome details of his scar. “The more I’m around you, Rey, the harder it is to leave.”

He keeps saying my name, she thought faintly. If he keeps saying my name like that, I don't know what I’ll do.

“You don’t have to leave,” she said finally, once she’d managed some semblance of coherent thought. She reached out and, very carefully, touched a finger to his chin. Just to feel his face.

Kylo made a soft, tortured sound in the back of his throat. “I must.”

Rey realized he’d misunderstood. “Not now,” she told him hurriedly. “You don’t have to leave now, I mean. Not for the whole night.”

Belatedly, she realized that her words could be completely misinterpreted to mean something they didn’t. But Kylo understood, as he usually did. That was an advantage of their connection.

He slid forward until their bodies were touching, and he carefully pushed her legs down, uncrossed her arms, and gathered her close to his chest. Each movement was precise, deliberate, and Rey knew that he was prepared for her to change her mind, to shout “NO!” and shove him away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, Rey grabbed hold of his waist, snaking her arms around him until they were chest-to-chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist in turn, and his other arm slid beneath her head so that she may use his body as a pillow.

Is this another dream? she asked herself. Is this really happening? We’re not... fighting. We’re -

“I’m not really one for cuddling,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“Mmm. Your actions beg to differ.”

Was he teasing her? Rey’s eyes widened, but before she could respond, he bent until their foreheads touched.

“I’ll convince you otherwise.”

He drew her even closer to him, so close she could hear the beat of his heart, in-sync with her own. His arms were taut with muscle, with concealed strength, and yet they were so warm and so comfortable, her eyes soon began to close against her will.

“Still not a fan,” she murmured drowsily, even as his fingers tightened on her waist.

His breath fanned across her face when he said, “I won’t let you go until your mind’s changed.”

“We might be here all night.”

Kylo pressed his mouth to her cheek, and she felt his smile bloom. “Whatever it takes.”

The last thing she remembered was the light touch of Kylo’s lips on her own.

When Rey woke early the next day, morning sunshine was bleeding through the expensive silk curtains. Rays of yellow and pink light streaked across the bed, and the soft whir of an automatic caf machine came from the kitchen. Outside she could hear the faint whines of spacecraft as they drifted over Cloud City, on their way to and from distant worlds.

Rey slung her legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand through her messy hair. Somehow her three-bun hairstyle had completely come undone overnight, and her brown locks hung in waves just past her shoulders. She stretched, lifting her arms high, and made a quick scan of the suite.

She knew even before she finished scanning that Kylo was long gone. His Force signature was undetectable; he wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity and hadn’t been for some time.

Rey should be upset, she knew, or at least exasperated, but she was neither. She knew how precarious both their positions were. The second the ion storm passed and Bespin’s government lifted the lockdown order, Kylo needed to be out the door. The First Order would know of his circumstances, if not the exact nature, and his new position as Supreme Leader was still so tenuous that he couldn’t make any missteps.

The Resistance would be worried, too. Finn, especially, and Rose, too. Poe to an extent. But Leia… She was strong enough with the Force that she would know Rey was fine. She wouldn’t be worried. Concerned, maybe, since Leia knew the true reason for these secret rendezvous, but never worried.

I can handle myself! Rey remembered yelling when her competence had been questioned. It was the very first rebel meeting she’d ever been part of, and the other long-standing Resistance members had looked back and forth between her and Leia with horror.

I know you can, Leia had replied easily and taken a calm sip of caf. That had been the end of that.

Rey wandered into the kitchen, bare feet slapping over the exquisitely tiled floors. A heady, intoxicating scent wafted from the caf machine, and Rey inhaled deeply. As she turned to observe the Bespin skies, her eyes caught on a piece of durasheet left out on the kitchen counter.

A note.

Lockdown lifted two hours before sunrise. Ion storm long dissipated.
The First Order is expecting me. Must return before any suspicions arise.
Coordinates for our next meeting are below.

His perfect calligraphy was marred by several large blots of ink, as if he’d hesitated too long before writing this next part.

You’re distracting when asleep. I was awake all night. Hux will have only you to blame should I make any grievous tactical errors today.

Rey laughed and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, staring around in awe. Kylo, making a joke? Her eyes quickly flew over the last part of the note.

Just so we are clear: I only deemed it appropriate to leave once I was satisfied your mind had been changed. For the record, you are a very inflexible cuddler. Next time we shall have to remedy that.

Her heart gallumped. Next time?

Until we meet again.

It was signed, simply,

Ben.