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#Post#: 1252--------------------------------------------------
[10] BEN
By: Zellaphone Date: January 18, 2021, 9:32 pm
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[size=9pt]Ben didn't necessarily feel uncomfortable with his
body under Rey's gaze, but it was a bit odd. He wasn't used to
people looking at him while he was half-naked, and the first
time that it had happened with Rey had been an accident. It
didn't make him feel any better that he was covered in dark,
blueish-green bruises and blotches as well as cuts and scrapes,
his skin swollen in certain places. He definitely wished that if
she were to look at him, that he'd looked more like his usual
self instead of a man that had been tossed down a ravine.
However, she made no comments, simply giving him a sympathetic
look before beginning to clean him. He shuddered at the first
touch, having been anticipating it but still a bit surprised by
it. The rag was cold, and the last time he had been touched by
someone who had no intention of hurting him had been by her
right after he had resurrected her. Before that, it had been his
father on Starkiller Base, and then... he had no idea. This
wasn't normal for him. He wasn't accustomed to being treated
like an actual human or an equal, much less with kindness. She
continued to touch him gently, gradually removing the dirt,
sweat, and blood that littered his body. Trying not to focus too
strongly on her touch, he pointed out her own wounds, silently
wishing to help clean them like she was going for him. She
brushed off his concern, but he hated seeing blood and cuts on
her, being unattended to as she put him first. He looked back
down at himself, watching as she cleaned over his bowcaster scar
only to realize that it didn't look as bad as it had that
morning. It didn't take long for him after that to notice that
his other scars were completely gone. The one on his arm, the
one on his shoulder, all the little ones that had been scattered
all about him, and the one on his face had vanished, leaving
nothing but smooth, pale skin behind. He knew it had to have
been from Rey healing him on Kef Bir, and he brought it up to
her, mentioning that she had healed his scars. He was confused,
wondering why he would do such a thing when she had only been
trying to save his life. She pretended to be nonchalant about
it, but it was clear that she cared more than she was letting
on, and after a moment, she gave in, being more honest with him.
She told him that she had wanted to heal his scars, revealing
once again that she did, truly, care for him to some capacity.
He said her name, his heart full from her words and from her
actions, though he felt unworthy of them both. He opened up more
to her, telling her that he had missed her, wanting her to know
that he cared for her as well, but keeping his deeper feelings
to himself. He explained to her that he had thought about her
every day, wishing that he had turned back to the light and
listened to her sooner, knowing now that he had wasted his life
making wrong choice after wrong choice. Sliding his hand over
hers, he told her that he knew she had been in pain on the
Supremecy when he was choosing power over her and the light, and
he had wanted to help her, but he didn't, regretting that he had
not gone with her and had been there for her. She shook her head
but told him that she had missed him too, which was somewhat
surprising, yet comforting to hear, though perhaps it shouldn't
have been that surprising. Not after her admission on Kef Bir.
She confessed that she had never wanted to leave him, but that
the ultimatum he had given her had been unfair, having to choose
her heart, which had to mean him, or her new family, the
Resistance, and that she wouldn't have been happy either way. He
wanted to apologize to her again, wishing to say that he was
sorry for ever putting her in that position, heartbroken to hear
that she hadn't been completely happy with the choice she had
made even though she had chosen the right path, but before he
could say anything, she was brushing everything to the side once
again. She insisted that they couldn't worry about the past
right now, focusing on the fact that he was here now, adding
that she didn't care if he was late. He held her hand at that,
further giving in to his desires, and he was relieved to see her
smile about it. He couldn't help but stare, having only seen her
smile a few times and still thinking that it was the most
beautiful thing in the galaxy, her cheeks becoming more full.
She told him that they were both safe and had plenty of time to
worry about things later, saying that he should focus on healing
and feeling better for now. He assured her that he already did
feel better, explaining that he was here with her, smiling
himself, the action feeling almost foreign to him but natural.
He was happy. He added that where he was supposed to be, and he
knew that as long as he was by her side, he was on the right
path, continuing to be more vulnerable to her. She said that she
was glad that he felt that way because she was going to need him
to trust her until things calmed down. He nodded, reveling in
the way she squeezed his hand, further letting him know that she
welcomed his touch in this capacity. "I do trust you," he
assured her, meaning it. She was the first person he had truly
trusted in many, many cycles, feeling safe with her.
She let go of his hand, and while he mourned the loss of
contact, he said nothing, moving his hand back onto the bed and
letting her get back to cleaning him. She eventually reached his
pectorals, and he couldn't help but think that she was going
awfully slow for an area that contained so little bruising, but
he didn't necessarily mind entirely. He did, however, have to
try and shift his focus again, staring up at the ceiling and
gripping the sheets with his hand that was hidden from her view,
trying to keep his heartbeat under control. He thanked whoever
was watching over him that Rey wasn't touching him with her
actual hands, thinking that he wouldn't be able to contain
himself as well if she did. He had thought of her touching him
for an embarrassingly long time, and now that it was actually
happening to an extent, it was taking everything he had in him
not to panic. She moved her attention to his chest, then to his
shoulders and neck, and he could finally relax a bit more then,
closing his eyes briefly at the sensation. She announced that
she was done a few moments later, him opening his eyes again and
looking at himself as she judged her own work, saying that he
looked better, but would look good once his bruises healed. He
tried not to think too much into that, simply nodding against
instead. "Thank you," he said quietly, silently agreeing with
her that he did look better. Much better, as she had said. He
certainly felt better as well without as much filth clinging to
him. She set the soiled rags aside, and he watched as she
grabbed the wheelchair, rolling the dreaded thing over to him
and asking him if he was ready for her to wheel him into the
bathroom. He shook his head, but not for the reasons that she
probably thought. Yes, he didn't want to use a wheelchair, but
he was planning on being obedient for her. The reason he shook
his head was for something else, still wishing to repay her for
what she had done in some way. "You must be uncomfortable as
well," he assumed aloud, now able to really pay attention to
just how dirty she was, her clothes that were once completely
white covered in patches of dirt and blood, her skin in the same
condition. "At least allow me to clean your face," he offered,
holding out his hand for a rag. "Please," he added for good
measure, hating that she was giving him so much attention when
she could use some care as well.[/center]
#Post#: 1256--------------------------------------------------
rey [xi]
By: winterssmary Date: January 20, 2021, 1:04 am
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[size=9pt]Rey hated how attracted she was to Ben Solo. She'd
hated it for a long time, only coming to terms with it later on,
when he turned back to the light and she was willing to admit
how she felt, that she wanted him. She knew she had feelings for
him for a while, burying them for as long as she could. She
could never quite describe her connection to him, just aware
that it existed. Once their Force bond was established, she
ended up seeking comfort from him in a moment of desperation.
But that moment was precious to her, the first time she ever
felt nurtured by anyone. Ever. Despite him being her enemy,
trying to kill her just weeks before that moment, he listened to
her. He assured her that she wasn't alone, the first person in
her life to actually be present when she needed them. She wanted
him from that moment on, forced to leave him behind on the
Supremacy when he asked her to choose between him and the
Resistance. She knew she made the right decision, but it hurt
her nonetheless. It hurt her unlike anything else. Well, maybe
not anything else. It hurt her the same way it hurt her when her
parents left her alone on Jakku, that sense of emptiness and
abandonment returning to the surface. Only, this time, she had
been the one doing the abandoning. She always knew he'd come
back to her. And he did, so admitting she was attracted to him
was something she was willing to do with herself. However, she
hated that in the moment, given just how littered he was with
blotchy, dark bruises, the cuts along his skin and scrapes and
dried blood, the swelling over his broken ribs. Being attracted
to him and seeing his chiseled body in such awful shape was
painful. And odd, confusing almost. She talked briefly about the
choices that she made with him: her choice to heal him on Kef
Bir and her choice to abandon him on the Supremacy. She hoped
her explanations put things in perspective for him, made him
understand that, despite their differences and how she acted
toward him, despite their constant fights, she did care for him.
She always had and she was convinced she always would. Ben
seemed happy by the time she was done explaining things, which
made her feel a little better, even in this awkward situation.
He held her hand and she smiled at him, telling him to feel
better. He assured her that he did, that he was where he needed
to be and that he knew things would be alright as long as they
were together. She felt the same, even if she didn't say it
aloud. It felt too soon. She was almost completely taken aback
when he smiled at her, having only seen it one other time: after
she kissed him. It was beautiful, bright, lighting up the whole
room, she thought. She wished she could see that smile every
single day, that she could somehow keep it forever. For the
moment, however, she supposed she'd just have to try her best to
memorize the way his eyes crinkled with delight, though without
the same intense brightness as on Exegol. She squeezed his hand,
saying that he needed to trust her and he assured her that he
did.
Unfortunately, she had to let go of his hand, had to move on to
the rest of his torso. She moved her hand upward, focusing on
his pectorals, which were oddly nice to look at. They were still
bruised and cut, but not nearly to the extent as the rest of his
chest and torso. They looked more normal, bigger than she
expected. And harder that she expected, she realized. She knew
that men were different than women, but she still expected him
to be a little squishier, much like she was up top. But he was
full of surprises. She moved much slower than she needed to,
assessing his body and the damage, but also enjoying touching
him. It felt odd and she worried that she might be making him
uncomfortable, but she was just thoroughly impressed. Once she
finished his chest, she ran the rags over his shoulders and
neck, wiping off all the dirt and grime she could manage. She
would worry about his face when she washed his hair, she
decided. She said that she was done, setting down the rags and
looking to Ben for approval. If he wanted her to work harder or
do something else, she would, but she thought she did a decent
job. He thanked her and she smiled, nodding. "Of course," she
said gently. "I may not be a medical professional, but I've had
to clean my own wounds with less water plenty of times growing
up. It was easy," she assured him, not wanting him to think that
he owed her, as if she'd done something big. She said that it
looked much better, that he would look even better once the
bruising healed. She didn't think much of the comment, but it
definitely could have been taken as a compliment toward his
appearance. Of course, she did think he was attractive. But she
wasn't about to admit that. She walked to the other end of the
room, grabbing the dreaded wheelchair for him and rolling it
over to him, asking if he was ready to move on. He shook his
head and she let out a sigh. Stupid men and their stupid pride.
"I know it isn't exactly empowering but -," but that's not what
he was rejecting her for, which was confusing. He said that she
must be uncomfortable too. She tilted her head, confused. "What
do you -," but he wanted to clean her face for her, holding his
hand out for a clean rag. "I told you, I can take care of it
myself," she said softly, but when he said that soft please, she
couldn't refuse him. She gave him a small nod, handing him the
rag. "Thank you," she whispered. He didn't know what this meant
to her, since it was the first time in her life that she didn't
have to do something for herself, the first time that someone
was taking care of her. [/center]
#Post#: 1257--------------------------------------------------
[11] BEN
By: Zellaphone Date: January 20, 2021, 2:48 am
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[size=9pt]He had been afraid to open up more to Rey. After
spending his whole life having to keep mostly everything to
himself, it felt odd to trust someone enough, to feel safe
enough with someone, to allow himself to be vulnerable with
them. However, after he did it, confessing to Rey that he had
missed her and thought of her every day, wishing he had been
there for her, he didn't regret it. Yes, it was sad for him to
think about. He had spent nearly this whole past cycle not doing
much more than losing his mind and thinking about her and
worrying about her and longing for her. But he knew it was
important for her to know this, to some extent. It was important
that she knew that he cared about her. Greatly. To the point
where he loved her, but he would continue to keep that to
himself for now. It was much too soon for him to admit something
like that, even though she had kissed him. He still didn't know
what that had even meant to her. She didn't seem upset when he
opened up to her, nor did she seem upset when he touched her
hand, going as far as to return some of his feelings. She had
missed him too. She had wanted to stay with him, but he had
given her an ultimatum on the Supremecy that hadn't been fair to
her. He knew that. And he knew now that even though her choice
had only torn him further apart inside, she had made the right
choice. He had been the one making all the wrong choices, and he
had paid for each one. She told him not to worry about the past
for now, however, not caring that he was late getting to her. He
held her hand at that, unable to understand how someone could be
so kind and almost forgiving towards him after all that he had
done. He truly didn't deserve it, but he cherished her words, as
well as her beautiful smile, nearly in disbelief that he was the
one making her smile. It reminded him of Exegol in a way, after
all the awfulness of that place had been over with. She had
smiled at him there too... right before she had kissed him. He
couldn't understand how someone could be so happy just to be
with him, but he would have to save all of those questions for
another time. For later, as she kept reminding him. He had a
later. She told him then to focus on getting better, and he
assured her that he already felt better, smiling back at her,
giving her a quick flash of teeth. He said that he was where he
belonged now, with her, knowing that was the right path for him.
It might have been a bit too much to say, but she thankfully
didn't seem uncomfortable by it, telling him that his feelings
were good because she needed him to trust her. He assured her
that he already did. He always had.
She let go of his hand and he didn't fight her, though he had
wished to hold onto it longer, savoring every touch they shared.
He let her get back to what she had been doing, which was
cleaning him, her hand moving slowly as it dragged the rag
across his body. He tried not to focus on it too much, staring
at the ceiling so he wasn't continuing to gawk at her, gripping
the sheets beside him where she couldn't see. Her hand moved to
his pectorals, and he expected her cleaning to increase in speed
now that she was in an area that wasn't as badly damaged, but it
didn't. She continued to take her time, unhurried pace almost
agony to him as he struggled to focus on something other than
her touch. She was so gentle, and if this wasn't the first time
in what felt like a lifetime that he had ever been touched in
such a way, he would have probably completely relaxed. However,
this was Rey. This was the woman that he craved, that drove him
wild, that he loved and she was being so kind, touching him
tenderly and smiling and letting him know that she actually
cared about him. It all baffled him greatly, and he wanted to
ask her what he had done to deserve this. He knew she was
naturally kind to everyone, but kind to him was a different
story. Her hand moved to his chest, then his shoulders and neck,
and he had to fight the strange mix of emotions within himself.
He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to confess everything to
her, and he wanted to cry, he discovered. This day, this life,
has been too much for him, and he just wanted to let it all out
underneath her gentle touch, staring into her breathtaking eyes.
He didn't, though, letting himself close his eyes for a moment
and relax a bit more, enjoying her touch and how clean he was
starting to feel despite half of his body still being filthy.
She announced that she was done and he opened his eyes again,
gazing down at himself. All the blood that had been on him was
now gone along with the dirt and sweat, leaving behind only his
swollen skin, bruises, and cuts and scars that, unfortunately,
couldn't just be wiped away. She said that he looked better, and
would look good once his injuries were healed. He tried not to
dwell on that statement for too long, assuming there wasn't a
compliment buried there. He nodded, agreeing that he looked a
lot better before thanking her. She nodded herself, brushing off
his thanks and explaining that while she may not be a medical
professional, she's had to clean her own wounds with less to
work with plenty of times growing up, stating that it was easy.
He looked at her, his brow furrowing for a brief moment at her
words. She said them so casually, but he couldn't help but be
somewhat saddened by them, thinking that she had lived her whole
life having no one, not even a medical droid to take care of
her. At least he had had that much.
He wanted to make a comment, but she was already standing up,
retrieving the wheelchair they had discussed earlier that he had
been dreading. She asked if he was ready for her to take him to
the bathroom, but he shook his head. No, he had been wanting to
offer to care for her as she had for him for a while, but he
certainly wasn't keeping quiet now. Especially not after what
she had just told him. If she had never had something or someone
to care for her wounds before, then he would. He wanted to. He
needed to, he felt. She started to talk about the wheelchair as
if that was what he was shaking his head about, but he
interrupted her, making his true intentions clear. He said that
she must feel uncomfortable too, which made her tilt her head in
confusion as he looked at all the dirt and blood and sweat that
covered her own body. He offered to clean her face, hoping that
he could at least do that much for her, knowing that most of her
was off-limits unlike how it had been for him. He held out his
hand, silently asking for a clean rag. Softly, she reminded him
that she had told him that she could take care of herself, and
he didn't doubt that. He had never doubted her own
self-sufficiency, but that wasn't why he wanted to do this.
Quitely, he begged her, wishing to do just one favor for her. To
his relief, she nodded, handing him a clean rag and whispering a
thank you, which was something else he wasn't used to hearing.
He nodded again. "It's the least I can do," he assured her
softly, waiting for her to sit back down so that he could begin,
not even thinking about how close she'd have to sit for him to
be able to reach her face. He sucked in a quiet breath, still
unused to having her so close to him, able to actually touch
her, which was exactly what he'd have to do. Slowly, he reached
out, carefully stroking her cheek with the rag, removing a
streak of dirt. "Tell me if I hurt you," he requested, avoiding
her eyes as he continued to lightly wipe at her face, able to
focus on the freckles he had tried to quickly memorize on
Exegol. He didn't have to be quick now, he realized. He could
take his time, his eyes following the rag as he cleaned her
soft, pink cheeks, her elegant, but blunt jawline, and her
freckled nose and forehead. She was, without a single doubt in
his mind, the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on, and
it was taking every ounce of strength he had not to tell her
that. She was gorgeous, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss
every inch of skin that he touched, wanting her to feel as
beautiful as he saw her, and as treasured as she was to him. He
stopped when he reached the blood on her forehead, slowly, and
as careful as he could be, dabbing at her skin to remove the
blood, unsure if there was still an injury underneath or not. He
had tried his best to heal as much of her as he could when he
had resurrected her, but his first priority had been giving her
a life again, literally giving up just about everything he had
in order to do that. He got the blood off, seeing nothing but a
small cut left that he'd insist she put bacta spray on later,
and he looked over her face once more, gazing at her softly,
glad to see her looking more like herself again, not as dirty, a
faint smile on his face. He couldn't help the way his eyes
continued to wonder, however, but innocently, looking down at
her arms and her collarbone where more dirt and blood lied. He
slid the rag from the side of her face down to her neck, saying
nothing as he continued to clean her there, then moving to her
arms, fighting the urge to reach out with his other hand and
just touch her. He cleaned around the leather wrap she wore to
cover the scar he knew lied underneath, able to feel just how
strong her arms were despite their delicate appearance.
Everything about her was just so small, but he knew better than
to think she was fragile. He had known of her strength for quite
some time, and she could certainly hold her own. He finished one
arm, moving over to the other, stopping each time he reached an
elbow, not wishing to do too much or make her feel
uncomfortable. He then moved back to her neck, actually cleaning
it and then getting down to her collarbone where a patch of
blood remained. He paused, noticing that his hand was close to
her chest, though it was still in an innocent area. He was
unsure, looking back up at her, his eyes stopping on her lips,
taking note of how pink they were, trying not to think about how
he could remember what they taste like. "Am I-" he began, prying
his eyes away from her lips and meeting her eyes. "Is this too
much?" he asked, feeling his face grow a bit warm with the
question, his hand hovering over the bloodied spot, too afraid
to touch it in case it would be going too far. [/center]
#Post#: 1260--------------------------------------------------
rey [xii]
By: winterssmary Date: January 21, 2021, 12:21 am
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[size=9pt]As unhappy as she was to let go of his hand, she did,
needing to get to work and finish cleaning him up. She shouldn't
have to sit in his own filth any longer, she thought. He
shouldn't have gotten so filthy to begin with, but she supposed
being thrown into a ravine would do that to you. God, she felt
so bad that he suffered so greatly because of her. Yet, at the
same time, she was touched. He thought she was worth it.
Somehow. It wouldn't make sense to her at any point. She was so
insignificant. Or, at least, she thought she was until very,
very recently. Her bloodline made her more important than she
thought. However, she wanted to reject that. She didn't want to
reject the other thing that made her significant, the fact that
she and Ben were a dyad in the Force. If that was the only thing
that made her important, she was fine with that. It meant that
there was someone who would always make sure that she didn't
feel lonely again. If all went well, that was. And, based on how
kind Ben was being to her, how over-the-top he was being in
regards to wanting to stay by her side, things were going well.
She finished cleaning him up, spending a bit too much time on
his pectorals before moving to his shoulders and neck. She'd be
lying if she said she wasn't enthralled with his body, even if
it was battered and bruised. She enjoyed touching him. She
wanted to keep touching him. But, regardless, she had to stop
after a little while, declaring that she was done, that he
looked good. Which was true, he did look good. But she said that
he would look better once his bruises healed. He gave her his
approval after a moment. She hoped he didn't think too much
about her telling him that he looked good. She managed to get
off all the blood and sweat and dirt, but the bruises still made
him look worse for wear. He thanked her and she shrugged it off,
letting him know that this was nothing new to her, nor was it
difficult. She'd cleaned and dressed her own wounds with
significantly less for all of her life. Ordinarily, she had a
hard time even using water, let alone enough water, while she
grew up on Jakku. His brows furrowed, but he didn't make a
comment about it. She was glad, not quite comfortable talking
about all of it.
She stood up, setting aside the soiled rags and rolling the
wheelchair over that she promised she'd wheel Ben around in. He
wasn't happy about it, she knew. But he didn't have a choice.
Neither of them did. Personally, she didn't see what was so
wrong with the wheelchair to begin with, but she wasn't going
too fight him. If he found it humiliating, he found it
humiliating and it wasn't her place to call him out on it. He
shook his head when she asked if he was ready and she
immediately started to tell him that he needed to get in. He
promised that he trusted her, so why was he backing down? But,
apparently, that wasn't why he rejected her offer. She was
confused at first, but eventually figured out that he wanted to
clean her wounds for her, the ones on her face, at least. She
rejected him at first, since she was more than capable of doing
it all on her own. But when he let out a soft please, she felt
her heart melt a little bit. He was just being so kind, so
willing to help. It was touching, even if it was something
relatively trivial. She allowed it, nodding at him and thanking
him quietly, handing him a wet rag. She sat down once more in
the chair next to the bed and scooted closer to him, so that he
could reach her face without straining himself. He insisted that
it was the least he could do, which made her smile softly. When
he asked her to let her know if he was going to hurt her, she
nodded. She wasn't exactly worried that he would hurt her, but
she didn't know. He had been gentle when he touched her before,
but it was likely that he didn't know how own strength. When was
the last time he touched another human being without trying to
cause them pain? There was no way for her to know. But, for the
moment he was remarkably gentle, stroking along her face,
avoiding her eyes as he worked toward the blood and the grime
and the dirt and the sweat. She'd never been touched so gently
in her life, never been treated with such care. She sniffled. He
cleaned around the cut on her forehead, dabbing the blood away,
being extra careful. She couldn't help how her eyes watered,
truly touched by the action. No one had ever, ever done anything
like this for her. There was a small cut on her forehead, but he
wasn't hurting her. She was beginning to think he'd never try
and hurt her again. His expression softened, the ghost of a
smile on his lips before his eyes wandered over the rest of her
body, mostly her arms and neck. He continued moving the rag
downwards, which caused her to tense, but she didn't fight him.
He was being respectful, just cleaning her, she reminded
herself. She'd just touched his chest for a ridiculous amount of
time, so this wasn't that big of a deal, relatively speaking. He
stared at her collarbone, awfully close to her breasts, which
suddenly made her paranoid. She folded her arms over her chest,
not in disappointment, but just to keep her breasts covered,
feeling squirmy under his gaze. Color rushed to her cheeks. She
didn't particularly like how small she was in the chest, not
after meeting other women in the Resistance and seeing how a
woman was supposed to look. She felt like a child. Ben probably
thought it was funny that she was shaped like an adolescent boy
rather than a full grown woman. His hand started traveling
toward her collarbone and she looked up at him, watching his
face for intentions. He seemed so innocent, asking before he got
too far down if this was too much. She stared for a moment,
watching his expression for anything that might give her a
reason to believe he had bad intentions. She couldn't find
anything. She shook her head. "It's alright. Thank you for
asking," she said genuinely, her gaze soft. [/center]
#Post#: 1261--------------------------------------------------
[12] BEN
By: Zellaphone Date: January 21, 2021, 1:45 am
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[size=9pt]After opening up to one another, which felt long
overdue, Rey had to, unfortunately, let go of his hand. He
didn't fight it, doing his best to relax as she continued to
clean him. She was very gentle with him. More gentle than he
thought he deserved. He honestly wouldn't have blamed her if she
had purposefully pressed down on a few of his bruises after all
the trouble he had caused her and the pain he had surely been to
deal with for nearly a whole cycle. However, she showed him
nothing but kindness, removing the dirt and sweat, and blood
from his body. He didn't understand why she was being so nice,
her caring for him aside. It seemed to just come so naturally to
her, and he wished he could be more like that instead of being
so angry all the time. He gripped the sheets as she began to
clean his pectorals, staring up at the ceiling instead of
looking at her, silently wondering why she was taking so long,
though he didn't exactly have any real complaints. He was
enjoying the attention, as much as it confused him, and he
couldn't deny how deeply touched he was by her care as well. It
had been what felt like a lifetime ago since the last time he
had had an actual person caring for him, treating his injuries
with no apparent intent to hurt him in any way, though Luke had
certainty tried to hurt him later. After a few moments, however,
she announced that she was done, declaring that he looked good.
He glanced down at himself, trying not to think too much about
her own words. Surely she didn't find him attractive. Especially
not in this state. She added that he'd look even better once his
bruises healed and he nodded, agreeing with her. He did look
better. Much better with all the filth removed from him, though
the bruises definitely were still very off-putting. He thanked
her, and she brushed it off, explaining that she used to clean
her own injuries with much less all the time. He furrowed his
brow at that, not exactly surprised, but hurt to be reminded of
just how loney she had been her whole life. She didn't seem
bothered by it, but he knew better, about to make a comment
before she stood up to go retrieve the wheelchair he had been
dreading to sit in. He knew it was a trivial thing, but the
image of him sitting in a wheelchair, all battered and bruised
and broken, was humiliating to him, and he was used to people
being smug about his injured state. Specifically, Hux.
She asked if he was ready to be moved to the restroom, but he
shook his head, having different plans for now. He felt so much
better after having even just half of the filth on him cleaned,
and he was certain that she would feel the same. He wanted to
help her in any way he could, even if it wasn't necessary,
feeling as though he owed her that much and simply just wanting
to. He hated seeing her so dirty, likely uncomfortable and
covered with blood. He wished to remove any traces of Exegol
from her that he could. She began to insist that he get in the
chair, but he interrupted, mentioning how uncomfortable she must
feel, offering after she tilted her head to clean her face. She
refused, saying that she could take care of herself, which he
didn't doubt, but that wasn't the point. He pleaded with her
quietly, holding out his hand for a clean rag, and that was all
it took for her to give in, nodding and thanking him. She handed
him a rag and he assured her that it was the least he could do,
not used to being thanked for anything. She smiled softly at
him, which was a lovely sight, taking a seat and scooting closer
to him so that he could reach her better. He was thankful for
the action but was caught slightly off-guard, having not thought
about her having to be so close to him in order for him to do
this. He adjusted himself ever so slightly, only feeling minimal
pain at the action so that he could be at a better angle, slowly
reaching out to her and telling her to inform him if he ended up
hurting her. She nodded and he gently wiped at her cheek, being
so conscious of how much force he was putting behind every
action. He wasn't used to touching people, and he especially
wasn't used to being gentle, but he wanted to be with her. He
didn't want to hurt her. He hadn't for a very long time. He
avoided looking her in the eyes as he cleaned her face, focusing
instead on the freckles that scattered across her face as well
as the rest of her visible skin, he noticed. He focused on her
cheeks, taking note of how naturally pink they were compared to
the rest of her sunkissed skin, and he paid attention to how
elegant but sharp her features were. She was breathtakingly
beautiful, there was no doubt. He had never doubted that,
attracted to her from the very first moment he had seen her. He
moved the rag to her forehead towards the patch of blood there
but halted his movements the second he heard her sniffle. "Are
you alright?" he asked, finally looking back into her
brown-green eyes. "I did not intend to harm you in any way," he
promised, waiting until he knew everything was alright before he
proceeded in his efforts to clean her. Once he was done with her
face, his expression softening, having removed every speck of
dirt and blood he could find, he couldn't help the way his eyes
wandered, navigating to the dried blood on her arms as well as
her collarbone. He lightly dragged the rag from the side of her
face to her neck, wishing to go ahead and remove the rest of the
dirt and blood that he could see and reach, so he did, starting
with her arms. After he was done cleaning those as much as he
could, trying not to focus on just how strong her arms felt, he
stared at the patch of blood on her collarbone, planning on
cleaning around it next. However, he stopped again as Rey moved
her arms suddenly, covering up her chest. His eyes went a bit
wide at the action, his cheeks growing warm as he cleared his
throat. "Forgive me," he said quietly, having not realized just
how much he had been staring and how close he had been to
looking right at her breasts, which he had been trying to avoid
at all costs. Carefully, he cleaned her neck, moving down to the
blood on her collarbone before stoping, lifting his hand
slightly, and looking to her, a blush on his cheeks once again.
He wasn't inappropriately touching her, he knew, but he was
close to her chest, and the last thing he wanted to do besides
hurt her was make her feel uncomfortable or take advantage of
her. He started to ask if he was allowed to clean the area he
was in, but stopped himself, rewording his question and asking
instead if what he was doing too much. She looked at him for a
moment as if to gauge his intentions before shaking her head,
telling him that it was alright and thanking him again, this
time for asking permission, her gaze soft. He nodded, lightly
dabbing the rag against the bloodied area as he had done for her
forehead, cleaning up the last bit of skin that he could reach
or had access to. "There," he said, folding up the soiled rag
before handing it out to her, looking her over. "You look..." He
drifted off, trying to think of something to say other than
beautiful or goregeous or lovely or stunning. "Much more like
yourself," he said awkwardly, managing to keep himself from
cringing at his own words. He was terrible at this. "You may
bring the confounded chair over now," he announced with a sigh,
preparing himself to be moved and to look like an
idiot.[/center]
#Post#: 1263--------------------------------------------------
rey [xiii]
By: winterssmary Date: January 21, 2021, 2:54 am
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[size=9pt]She finished cleaning him up, even though it took
longer than it should have. She took her sweet time during the
last half just so she could spend an unnecessary amount of time
touching him, which she was embarrassed about. But he didn't say
anything about it, so she assumed that he didn't care much. But
she knew that, if he were doing such a thing to her, she'd be a
little uncomfortable, even if she did, admittedly, crave his
touch. Once she finished up, she rolled the wheelchair over,
asking if he was ready for her to roll him over to the bathroom.
He didn't seem happy about the chair and she understood that it
was definitely different for him, but he needed it. He shook his
head and she immediately was about to try and convince him,
knowing that he didn't have much a choice. However, he didn't
seem concerned with the chair itself and he wasn't trying to put
off the rest of their work. Instead, he was concerned about her,
sure that she was uncomfortable with how dirty she was.
Truthfully, she didn't think much of it. After her life on Jakku
and how painful and infrequent showers were, she was used to
having a layer of dirt and sweat on her at all times. Her time
in the Resistance helped her get accustomed to being cleaner,
but this still didn't feel too foreign to her. The blood was a
bit much though and neither of them smelled great at the moment.
He offered to clean her face and she rejected him initially,
since she could handle it herself and intended to when the
droids went to work on him. However, when he said please, she
didn't want to refuse him. Something about it was so innocent,
so childish and precious. And sweet. He was putting a lot into
caring about her, apparently, which was just so ridiculously
kind. She wasn't expecting that from him, even given how good
he'd been to her since Kef Bir. He just wanted to repay her for
taking care of him, she was sure. She gave into his request,
thanking him. He didn't think much of it, saying it was the
least he could do as she sat down, scooting close to him so he
could begin his work.
He asked her to let him know if he hurt her and she nodded, but
wasn't too worried about it. He was being too kind to her, too
sweet for her to think he might even try to hurt her. But it
wasn't unrealistic for him to be too rough, just given how he
had been for the past few decades. All that darkside
conditioning doesn't just disappear. He started with her cheek
and she tried not to focus too much on the sensation of his hand
on her. To be fair, the rag was technically touching her, not
his skin. But it still felt nice. He was being so, so gentle
with her, which she wasn't used to. No one had ever been this
gentle with her. No one had ever actually put forth the effort
to take care of her. She'd always nursed herself to health,
dressed her own wounds. She'd done everything for herself all
her life. Even in the Resistance, no one had done anything for
her. She took care of herself, spent much of her time isolated.
She had Finn and Poe, whom she loved and loved her in return,
but they never cared for her. They never needed to and always
were busy taking care of each other. At every point in her life,
she'd been more of a loner, but not by choice. She sniffled as
his hand drifted upward, dabbing so carefully and tenderly at
the small wound on her forehead. She hadn't meant to do it, but
she was truly getting worked up at how he was treating her, not
expecting this treatment from anyone. Ever. He asked if she was
alright, halting his movements. Tears were welling in her eyes,
but not falling. She nodded slowly. He said that he never
intended to hurt her and she shook her head. "I'm sorry. You
didn't hurt me," she explained, a tight-lipped smile on her
face. "This is going to sound stupid, but no one's ever done
anything like this for me before. I know it's trivial, but -,"
she cut herself off after a moment. Was it okay to talk to him
like this? Of course, she'd already been way more vulnerable
with him before, on Ahch-To when she revealed her pain and
trauma to him and he responded only with compassion and
understanding. "Is this how a child feels when someone tends to
them?" she asked with a small laugh, trying to shrug it off as
just her acting ridiculous, which she was. But it truly meant
the world to her. He finished up with her face after a while,
moving downwards, which caused her to tense a bit, but he didn't
mean anything by it. Right? He wiped at her neck and shoulders,
looking her over as he did so. His eyes drifted downward to her
collarbone and she instinctively folded her arms over her
breasts, self-conscious. A small blush formed on her cheeks and
he asked for her forgiveness. She shook her head. "Everything's
fine," she said, still tense. He asked if it was too much, his
hand hovering over the cut on her collarbone. She shook her
head, giving him permission to wipe it while thanking him for
asking her. He dabbed at the wound, cleaning up everything he
could see eventually before declaring that he was done, saying
that she looked... something, his voice drifting off for a
moment. She worried for a second. She looked... like a toddler,
probably. But he just said that she looked like herself and she
nodded. "Right. Well, thank you," she said. He said that she
could get him into the wheelchair now, calling the thing
confounded. She rolled her eyes playfully at that. "Don't be so
dramatic. No one's going to see you in it. It's just you and me.
And the droids, of course," she said.
She helped him into the wheelchair, having the use the Force to
enhance her strength to get him in there, warning him that it
would hurt before she hooked her arms underneath him to get him
into the chair. She hoped she didn't hurt him too much, but knew
it was better than if he would have tired it on his own. She
apologized the whole time she carried him, feeling awful for
causing him any pain at all. "I'm really sorry about all of
that," she said, taking the handles of the wheelchair and
rolling him to the bathroom at the other end of his hospital
room. She opened the door and turned on the light, rolling him
into the room and to the bathtub. There was a small end table
that she grabbed, pulling it over to the bathtub and putting it
between the tub and the chair, just behind Ben so he could rest
his neck on the narrow table and his hair could dangle off the
side of it, in the water from the showerhead. "Just lean your
head back and relax. You can rest your neck on this table," she
said, putting her hands in his hair and on his head, helping him
lower it back to position it appropriately. Once he complied
with everything, getting his permission for everything, she
started the water, getting the temperature hot, but not too hot.
She knew that the warmer the water was, the easier the dirt
would come off. But she hoped it wasn't uncomfortable. "Is this
too hot?" she asked, holding the showerhead just so that a small
amount of water touched his skin. Once she got his approval, she
started working, wetting all of his hair and running her hands
through it several times to get out the tangles as much as she
could. She was gentle, gently working at knots and tangles and
refusing to put any force behind it so as not to hurt him. She
grabbed some of the soap on the edge of the tub, rubbing it
between her hands to lather it up before starting to work on his
scalp, tender lathering and scrubbing at his skin, being as
light as possible as she worked in small circles, trying to work
through all the sweat and buildup that she knew was bound to be
there. She tried scrubbing it, running it through all of his
hair, working the roots more so than the ends, as Poe always
told her to do when she was learning to take care of her own
hair. She watched his face as she did this, keeping an eye on
him to make sure she didn't cross a line or hurt him. [/center]
#Post#: 1265--------------------------------------------------
[13] BEN
By: Zellaphone Date: January 21, 2021, 4:29 pm
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[size=9pt]It took longer than he had intended for Rey to clean
him, but he made no complaints. He had none. No one had cared
for him in such a way since he had been a child, and even then
he had a hard time remembering someone being so gentle and so
attentive towards him. He didn't feel as though he deserved any
of it, but he wouldn't lie and say that he didn't enjoy it, or
that he didn't crave it. He was desperate for whatever she was
willing to give him. Once she finished and he had thanked her,
she rolled the wheelchair over to him, ready to move him to the
bathroom so that she could clean his hair as she had mentioned
earlier. However, he wasn't quite ready for that, still
concerned about her. She was filthy as well, though thankfully
not as injured, with sweat and dirt and dried blood on her. He
told her that she must be uncomfortable, though she seemed
confused by that assumption, tilting her head in confusion. He
offered to clean her face, wanting to at least do that much for
her, if she would allow him. He knew that she was more than
capable of doing it on her own, though he had technically been
capable of cleaning his upper body himself, he wanted to do this
for her himself. It was to thank her, but also... just because
he wanted to. He added a please, and she gave in, handing him a
clean, wet rag before she took a seat, thanking him and scooting
close to him so that he could reach her. He reached out, but
before he touched her requested that she let him know if he hurt
her. After she nodded, he continued, wiping at her face, his
eyes following his every movement and taking in as many details
about her as he could. He had tried doing something similar on
Exegol, thinking that he was never going to see her again in
this life and that she was going to be the last sight he ever
saw with these eyes. He had tried to memorize her every freckle,
the color of her eyes, the lines in her face when she smiled. He
had to do it all so quickly then, but not now. Now he could
afford to take his time, noticing little physical details about
her that he had never noticed before and engraving them into his
memory. He lightly dabbed at the bloodied spot on her forehead,
only to instantly stop when he heard her sniffle. He looked at
her eyes, noticing tears, and he quickly asked if she was
alright. She nodded, but he deeply worried that he had hurt her
in some way. He had been trying to be careful, but perhaps he
was being rougher with her than he had thought. He swore that he
had never intended to cause her any harm, but she shook her
head. She apologized to him, assuring that he hadn't hurt her,
smiling tightly. She warned him that was she was going to say
was going to sound stupid, but that no one has ever done
anything like this for her before. His expression softened, his
gaze becoming sympathetic as she went on to say that she knew it
was trivial, but stopped herself before finishing the thought.
He waited, listening, knowing that there had to be more that she
needed to say. She ended up asked if this was how a child felt
when someone tended to him, laughing just a bit, which made his
eyes go a little wide. He had never heard her laugh before and
he decided that it was his new favorite sound, wishing to hear
it again. He chuckled, which sounded foreign to him even though
it was his own sound. "I would imagine so," he told her,
continuing to carefully dab at the spot on her forehead. "I
don’t think it sounds foolish, however. It has been some time
since someone has cared for me, so I know that it’s not
trivial,” he said, not wanting her to think that such a thing
that he knew was important sounded silly to him. He had felt it
too when she had cleaned him. Maybe not to the same extent, but
it had definitely touched him. "But..." he continued quietly,
not looking her in the eyes again, growing nervous every time he
decided to be more open with her. "I will care for you as much
as you allow me to," he promised her.
When he finished with her face, he didn't stop there, though he
had originally planned to. He moved the rag down to her neck,
assuming that Rey would stop him if she wanted him to stop. He
just wanted her to go ahead and be rid of as much of this filth
on her as possible. It didn't suit her, even though he knew she
had once been a scavenger, and he hated the sight of blood on
her. He cleaned her neck and then her arms as much as he could,
his eyes wandering over to her collarbone where the last bit of
visible dirt and blood remained. Suddenly, Rey moved covering
her chest with her arms. He almost questioned her again, but the
realization hit him before he did, his cheeks heating up. She
was covering her breasts. Clearly he had been staring at her too
long and she had gotten the wrong idea. He apologized to her,
hoping that she knew that he hadn't actually been staring at her
breasts, but she brushed off his apology, assuring him that
everything was fine with a blush on her own cheeks. His hand
hovered over her collarbone, and he asked her if this was too
much, now much more uncertain of himself. She shook her head,
giving him permission to finish what he had been doing and
thanking him for asking her. He nodded, dabbing gently at the
patch of blood on her collarbone as he had done on her forehead.
Once he was done, he folded up the rag and handed it to her,
dumbly declaring that she looked more like herself. He had only
said it to avoid saying something that might scare her off. He
had wanted to call her beautiful. She nodded, thanking him
again, and he told her that she could finish bringing the
wheelchair over, dreading having to be moved and sit in the
cursed thing. She rolled her eyes, telling him to not be so
dramatic and reminding him that no one but her and some droids
were going to see him in it. He opened his mouth to argue but
couldn't, knowing that she was right. She was going to be the
only living soul to see him in such a humiliating position. Then
again, that didn't necessarily make it better. He definitely
didn't wish to be humiliated in front of her. "I suppose that's
true..." he said, keeping his thoughts to himself, hoping that
this would all be over with quickly. He tensed when she came
over, unable to help it as she touched him with her actual
hands, getting ready to pick him up, he realized. Quickly, he
looped an arm around her neck, his whole face feeling warm with
embarrassment at the thought of her carrying him, though she
obviously didn't seem to think much of it. She picked him up,
having to use the Force to do so, obviously, and he sucked in a
breath. All of his worrying about how he appeared went out the
door as soon as pain shot through him again, his body begging
him not to b removed in any sort of way. She kept apologizing as
she moved him, and he couldn't do much else but let out a quiet
groan as she lowered him into the chair, his legs and sides
aching with pain. She apologized again once he was settled,
starting to roll him into the bathroom and he let out a breath,
the pain already starting to ease now that he was stationary
again. "It's fine," he insisted, not wanting her to feel guilty
for something that she couldn't have helped.
She rolled him into his hospital bathroom, turning on the lights
and taking him over to the bathtub as his breathing even back
out after his few moments of pain. She grabbed an end table,
moving it behind him between himself and the bathtub. She asked
him to lean his head back and relax, explaining that he could
rest his head on the table. He nodded, slowly doing as he was
told as she helped him, her hands in his hair again as she
guided his head back onto the table. "Thank you," he said
quietly, slightly uncomfortable in such a position, but not
enough to where he felt inclined to make a comment about it. He
was just still touched that she would even go through all of
this trouble for him, and confused by it even though she had
stated that she cared about him. Of course, that confused him as
well. She was truly out of her mind, but he wasn't going to
fight her. If she wanted to be kind to him, then he would let
her. For now. She got the water started, her hands having to
leave his hair, but he knew they would be back soon enough, and
he admittedly looked forward to that. She asked if the water was
too hot, letting a small amount of it hit his skin. He shook his
head slightly. "No, no, it feels... very nice," he told her
honestly, preferring his water to be warm, borderline scalding.
With that, she began to wash his hair wetting it, and then, to
his delight, running her hands through it. He closed his eyes at
the sensation. Her hands felt so good, and he wished that she
could keep touching him forever and wherever she pleased. She
was still being so gentle, so caring, and he barely knew what to
do with himself. He opened his eyes when her hands left his hair
again, only to see that she was lathering them up with soap
before they returned to his hair, lightly scrubbing at his
scalp. His fingers twitched at the feeling, closing his eyes
once again and having to hold back a groan, letting out a quiet
sigh instead, completely content. He could remember the last
time he felt this at peace. He felt so safe, so cared for, so
loved, even though he knew that wasn't what this was. Not for
her, anyway. His whole body relaxed under her touch, and he
started to feel heavy, his exhaustion setting in and slowly, but
surely, drifting off to sleep without him even realizing until
he became completely unaware of the world around him.[/center]
#Post#: 1268--------------------------------------------------
rey [xiv]
By: winterssmary Date: January 22, 2021, 12:58 am
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It wasn't the first time Rey had been so vulnerable in front of
Ben, so open and honest and feeling so exposed. She did it the
first time on Ahch-To, crying to him through their Force bond,
something she hadn't meant to do at the time. But she needed
someone. And, despite them literally trying to kill each other
just days before, he was so willing to sit with her, to listen
to her. There wasn't a hint of judgment in his eyes and Rey
could tell that it was because, despite them coming from
different backgrounds and not experiencing the same thing, he
understood. He was the first person in her whole life who could
relate to her because, at the heart of each of their
experiences, they were dealing with crippling, intense
loneliness. She trusted him then, enough to fly out to him, to
turn him back to the light -- which later failed. In this
moment, despite not wanting to let her guard down in front of
him, she didn't have much of a choice, sniffling, tears welling
in her eyes at just how gently he was touching her, how softly
and tenderly he dabbed at her wounds. No one had ever done this
for her in her life. Even when she found a family, she had to
take care of herself. Entirely. She nursed her own wounds,
fetched her own meals, cleaned herself up. Never did anyone even
volunteer to do things like this for her. It was such a minor,
trivial thing too and she felt absolutely ridiculous for having
the emotional reaction that she was. But she couldn't help it.
This whole action, despite it being done by Kylo goddamn Ren,
was one of the most tender, thoughtful, sentimental moments of
her life. She'd never forget it. She tried to brush it off as
not a big deal, explaining that no one had done this for her
before and that she knew it was trivial. She laughed just a bit
before finishing her thought, asking if this was how children
felt when they were cared for by someone. He let out a very,
very mild chuckle, which she had never, never heard in her life.
She liked it. It was unique, deep, so foreign and strange. She
grinned at him. "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh
before," she said quietly. He agreed that this was probably how
a child felt, adding that he didn't think anything she said
sounded foolish or trivial, since it's been a while since he was
cared for as well. Her expression turned a little more sad,
sympathetic. Knowing that had to be true, given that he had been
under Snoke's thumb for longer than she'd been alive. She
nodded. "Well, I'm glad you don't think I'm an emotional wimp,"
she said again. He avoided eye contact for a moment, speaking up
once more, quietly saying that he would care for her as much as
she would allow him. Her gaze went soft and she gave him another
slow nod. It was truly a sweet, sweet sentiment. "That's very
kind of you, thank you," she said. "I'll keep that in mind. And
the same goes for you. You'll always have me to lean on," she
said.
He finished wiping her face and she thought it was over, but it
apparently wasn't. His hands started to move, wiping the rag
down her neck, going after the dirt and the sweat that was
there. It was shocking, to say the least, but she actually
didn't mind it. She wanted to feel cleaner, even after spending
most of her life covered in dirt while she lived on Jakku. His
hands kept going lower though and he was staring intently at her
torso. At first, he was just watching his own movements, which
made sense, but she started to feel a little nervous, tensing
up. She wondered if he might have been looking at her breasts,
but not in the way that men looked at most women's breasts. She
knew for a fact that she didn't exactly have a desirable, curvy
body. He was likely noting just how childish she was, how
underdeveloped her body was and how she looked like a preteen.
She felt a little odd that he might be looking at her at all,
feeling both violated and self-conscious. She folded her arms
over her breasts to keep them covered, just as a precaution. He
wasn't going to make a move or do anything dumb. He wouldn't
stand a chance. But it was still unnerving. He asked for
forgiveness, halting his movements, and she tried to shrug it
off, not wanting to make any assumptions about what might have
been going through his head. He asked if it was too much, his
hand hovering over her collarbone, but she shook her head,
immediately granting him permission to go back to what he was
doing. She thanked him for asking and he nodded before getting
back to work, gently dabbing at her wound and treating it with
the same tenderness as he did the cut on her forehead. He was
done and said that she looked more like herself, which was not
the compliment she wanted, but a compliment all the same, she
thought. Looking like herself was better than looking like a
dirty scavenger. She thanked him, taking the rag from him and
bringing the wheelchair over for him. He made it clear that he
didn't like it, but she assured him that it would only be the
two of them -- and the droids -- that would see him. He conceded
that point, helping her sorta when she lifted him and put him in
the wheelchair. She did her best to be gentle, but he was just
in such awful shape and there was nothing she could do to make
it painless. He groaned and she spent the whole time trying to
tell him that she was sorry. Once he settled into the
wheelchair, she apologized one final time and he brushed it off.
She rolled him into the bathroom, turning the light on and
rolling him so that his back faced the bathtub. She set up a
makeshift station with an end table so he could rest his neck
when he leaned back. The last thing she wanted to do was cause
him more pain and discomfort than he was already dealing with.
She gently pushed her hands through his hair, helping to guide
his head back so that it rested on the table, earning a thank
you from him. "Of course. Now, just try and relax," she said.
She got the water ready, keeping it warm, just like she liked.
But she didn't know what his preference was. Maybe it was too
much for him. She grew up in a desert, so heat was naturally
what she was drawn to. She sprayed just a bit on his skin,
asking how it felt and he approved it, sounding almost wistful
at it, saying it felt very nice. "Alright. Just let me know if
it's too much or I'm doing something you don't like," she said,
wetting his hair and getting to work. She ran the water through
his very, very thick hair a few times, just to keep it nice and
saturated. After running her hands through it way too many
times, she stopped the water, gathering some soap in her hands
instead and lathering it up. She started massaging his scalp,
gently running her hands over it, scratching in little circles
and other odd patterns, doing her best to scrub out all the dirt
and sweat and grime. She knew there was a lot that was caught in
his hair, unfortunately. From there, she ran her fingers from
the root to the tips of his hair. It was longer than when they
first met, but she supposed she could say the same about her own
tresses. He was letting out a quiet sigh as she worked through
his hair and she smiled down at him, watching how quickly and
easily he relaxed into her touch. It was surreal, she thought,
to see him in this state. He wasn't tense. He wasn't afraid or
angry or upset in any regard. He was just so, beautifully
peaceful. She took a moment to gaze at his face even as her
hands moved, looking at his long, curled eyelashes, his chiseled
cheekbones and strong jawline. She noticed the strength and
emphasis of his overall form, his bone structure so obvious and
distinct. His nose was prominent on his face, reminding her a
lot of Han's. He truly did look like his father, but he had his
mother's eyes. She'd recognize Leia's eyes anywhere. However,
despite all of this, she found herself most drawn to his lips,
large and plump, slightly parted, bringing another smile to her
face. She remembered how those lips tasted and she longed to
taste them again. She started up the water once more, rinsing
out his hair gently, running her fingers through it the whole
time, keeping the kinks and the tangles out even as the water
fell through them. It was only after she was done that she
realized that Ben had been asleep throughout the process. She
couldn't help but laugh a little bit at the realization, finding
it more adorable than anything else. She got a towel and, very
gently, touched his shoulder. "Ben. Ben, wake up," she said
quietly. "You fell asleep," she said with a smile and a small
laugh. She dried his hair to some extent, shaking it out with
the towel. "We're all done here. Do you feel any better?" she
asked, knowing how being more clean could enhance mood.
[/center]
#Post#: 1269--------------------------------------------------
[14] BEN
By: Zellaphone Date: January 22, 2021, 4:20 pm
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[size=9pt]He was doing his best to be gentle as he cleaned Rey.
He didn't want to hurt her in any way, but he wasn't exactly
used to interacting with people in a tender manner. Perhaps he
had lost the ability to do so he thought as he heard her sniffle
once he began to dab at the wound on her forehead. He
immediately stopped, asking her if she was alright, noticing the
tears in her eyes. She nodded, but he didn't believe her. Why
else would she be crying unless he had caused her pain? He
assured her that it hadn't been his intention to harm her, but
she shook her head, apologizing to him as if she had done
something wrong, and insisted that he had not hurt her. She
explained that no one has ever done something like this for her
before, clearly referring to someone caring for her. She tried
to make it sound like it was nothing, saying that she knew it
was trivial before cutting herself off. He disagreed with her,
knowing that she felt more strongly about this than she was
letting on, but he said nothing yet, waiting to see if she'd
finish her thought. She ended up asking if this was how a child
felt when someone tends to them, laughing quickly. His eyes
widened slightly at that, having never heard her actually laugh
before. She hadn't really had much of a reason to in front of
him before, which was mostly his fault. If he didn't regret his
past actions before, he certainly did now, feeling robbed that
he had never heard such a beautiful sound before now. He let out
a chuckle of his own, which sounded strange, he thought,
especially compared to her light, natural laugh. However, she
grinned at him, pointing out that she had never heard him laugh
before, which he knew she hadn't. He had honestly forgotten what
his own laugh had sounded like. "I hadn't heard you laugh before
either," he told her, his lips twitching upwards into a smile
before he agreed that this was likely how a child would feel. He
added that he didn't think her words had sounded stupid or
trivial, however, continuing to clean her wound as he admitted
that it had been some time since someone had cared for him. Even
then he had mostly been cared for by droids in his childhood as
well. When his parents hadn't been home, which was more often
than not, he was left in the care of droids. He noticed the look
of sadness in her eyes and instantly wished he had said nothing,
not wanting her to pity him in any way. He was fine. Now. He was
fine now. Finally. She nodded, saying that she was glad that he
didn't think she was an emotional wimp. He chuckled again, very
lightly. "I've never thought that," he assured her, thinking of
all the other times she had been vulnerable before him. No, she
was definitely not a wimp. He looked away from her for a moment,
letting her know that he would care for her as much as she'd
allow him to. He didn't want her thinking she wouldn't be cared
for like this ever again. He knew that he would do anything,
anything for her that he could. She nodded, her expression
softened as she looked at him, and he still couldn't believe
that anyone could ever look at him in such a way as if he truly
meant a great deal to them, which she had already assured him
that he did... somehow. She thanked him, calling him kind, which
he also had a hard time believing. He wasn't sure if he had ever
been called that. Monster, useless, a child, a disgrace, yes,
but kind? She said that she'd keep his words in mind, but the
same went for him, assuring him that he would always have her to
lean on. He parted his lips only to quickly press them together,
going mad from not being able to tell her that he loved her when
he so desperately did. "Thank you..." he said instead, gazing at
her softly, lovingly, he was sure, but he couldn't help that.
She didn't know the gravity of her own words.
After cleaning her face, he began to clean her neck, her
shoulders, her arms, not thinking much of it, getting a bit
carried away. She said nothing, which he took as a good sign,
hoping that he wasn't taking advantage of her in any way as he
continued to remove the filth and blood from her skin. His eyes
wandered, going to the last bit of her exposed skin that he had
yet to clean -- her collarbone. There was another patch of blood
there that he wished to clean, but before he could do anything,
Rey was covering herself up with her arms, hiding her chest. He
briefly raised a brow in confusion before he saw the blush in
her cheeks, his whole face suddenly heating up at the
realization of what she had probably thought. No, no, no, that
hadn't been it at all. He had not been staring at her breasts.
In fact, he had been actively avoiding them, knowing that would
most certainly be crossing a line, but all he could ask was for
her forgiveness, knowing that even though he had been innocent,
he had still made her uncomfortable. She shook her head,
insisting that everything was fine, but he still asked if this
was all too much, his hand hovering over the bloodied spot on
her collarbone. She shook her head once more, giving him
permission to continue and thanking him for asking. He nodded,
lightly dabbing at her skin as he had on her forehead, removing
the blood. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about the
blood on her clothes. When he was finished, he stated that she
looked more like herself, feeling like an idiot for saying such
a thing even though it was true. He had wanted to compliment
her, though. She thanked him, taking the soiled rag from his
hands as he said she could bring the wheelchair over now,
letting out a sigh. He was truly dreading this. He knew he was
going to look and feel like an absolute fool. She reminded him
that it was only going to be herself and the droids that saw
him, which was a comfort to some degree, but really, she was the
only person he truly cared about how he appeared in front of.
Still, he gave in, allowing her to help him into the chair even
though it was extremely awkward, as well as painful. He looped
an arm around her in order to try and help her, but he couldn't
help the groan that escaped him from the pain that he felt at
being disturbed. She kept apologizing, and once he was settled
into the wheelchair, he brushed her apologies off, knowing that
there was nothing that could have been done to prevent his pain
and humiliation.
She rolled him into the bathroom, taking care of everything as
she turned on the lights, positioned him in front of the tub,
and moved an end table behind him, asking for him to lean his
head back and rest it against it. He obliged, enjoying the way
her hands slid into his hair to help him even though he didn't
technically need it. He thanked her quietly, shifting ever so
slightly to get more comfortable as she told him to relax. He
heard the water start behind him, staring up at the ceiling as
he waited for her to start washing his hair, trying not to feel
so strange about it. As he had told her, it had been quite some
time since he had been cared for, but he couldn't even emember
the last time someone had washed his hair for him. Perhaps it
had been his mother, or maybe it had even been his father, he
wasn't sure. Hell, it could have been Chewbacca for all he knew.
She asked if the water was too hot for him, spraying a bit
against his skin. He shook his head, almost smiling at the heat
that he felt. He told her that it felt very nice, being
truthful, anticipating to feel the water again. She told him to
let her know if she was doing too much or did anything that he
didn't like, and he nodded, though he doubted that he wasn't
going to enjoy any part of this experience. She ran the water
through his hair, completely dousing it before she started to
run her hands through it. He closed his eyes, enjoying the
feeling of her hands in his hair. He didn't think something so
simple could ever feel so good, but it did. It felt wonderful,
safe, and caring, her touch so gently as she worked through his
tangles. He opened his eyes when her hands left, but she was
just turning off the water for a moment, lathering her hands up
with soap. When her hands returned, she began to massage and
scrub at his scalp, his fingers twitching in delight, wishing to
reach out to her and pull her closer, but he refrained. He also
had to refrain from letting out any noises that might be a bit
too embarrassing, sighing in content instead as he closed his
eyes again. It had been so, so long since he had felt this at
peace or this secure, all of his worries and cares leaving him
temporarily as he further relaxed to her touch. It had been some
time since he had felt this exhausted as well, though his
exhaustion on Exegol had been far greater, and he couldn't help
the way his body grew heavy, his awareness of the world around
him slowly disappearing as he fell asleep. The next thing he
knew, unaware of how much time had passed, his shoulder was
being touched, Rey saying his name and saying it again, quietly
asking him to wake up. "Hm? Rey?" he breathed, only somewhat out
of sorts. Thankfully, he hadn’t fallen too deep asleep, or else
he would have likely panicked. He feared how he was going to
react in the morning. She told him that he had fallen asleep as
he opened his eyes and blinked up at her, adjusting to the
light. She was smiling, laughing, beautiful as could be, and his
cheeks felt a bit warm. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. "Oh..."
he said with a little laugh, embarrassed, but still relaxed.
"Sorry. That, um, was entirely unintentional," he assured her,
slowly lifting his head up and wincing briefly at the stiffness
in his neck. He couldn't remember the last time he had fallen
asleep feeling at ease either. This was all so new to him,
though he was aware that he would have had to of experienced
some of these things before at some point. She dried his hair
with a towel, still being so careful with him before announcing
that she was done, asking if he felt any better. He nodded
slowly, gripping the hand rests of his wheelchair slightly at
the sudden wave of emotion he was feeling. No one had asked him
in years how he felt. No one had touched him so gently except
for his father before he had, regrettably, killed him, or
herself on Exegol. No one had treated him with such selfless
kindness or showed him such trust, and it was all starting to
get to him, but he fought it. He didn't want to worry her, nor
did he want to burden her in any way with all of his baggage and
feelings. "Yes, very..." he told her, feeling wonderful despite
half of his body still being dirty. "Thank you," he added,
feeling as though he couldn't thank her enough. His grip
loosened again as he thought about what would come next. "I
suppose... you're going to go now, yes?" he asked quietly,
staring at a spot on the floor. "Will I... see you again soon?
Not that you need to come back soon, I’m sure you have much to
attend to and I wouldn’t wish to keep you from anything," he
said, trying not to sound so desperate to have her back or so
sad to have her leaving in the first place, knowing that it
would be selfish of him to keep her around. He really didn't
need her here right now, and he knew that she was bound to have
other duties to attend to. She was neglecting her friends after
they had just won a war. Surely, she had other places to
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rey [xv]
By: winterssmary Date: January 23, 2021, 4:09 pm
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It was amusing to find that Ben had fallen asleep, head leaned
back and neck resting on the table that she'd set out for him.
She spent an unnecessarily long time just observing him,
watching how his lips moved with each breath he took, watching
how peacefully and easily his eyes remained closed. She'd never
seen him look so at ease, as if he didn't have a care in the
world. He seemed like he felt safe for the first time in his
life. And, despite knowing that he was in pain from his broken
bones, he seemed close to painless in this state. She felt like
she was observing a rare animal in its natural habitat,
something a person would be lucky to see even once in a
lifetime. She had been staring for a while, she realized,
deciding that it was probably time to wake him up. Gently, she
tapped at his shoulder, calling his name a few times and asking
him to wake up. He stirred, seemingly out of sorts for a moment
as he quietly said her name. His eyes opened next, blinking
wildly for a moment, giving her the perfect chance to really
admire those beautiful eyelashes. She laughed, smiling down at
him for a moment. A little color rushed to his cheeks, something
she couldn't recall seeing from him before. Or, at least, not
often in the slightest. It was cute. He let out a little laugh
himself, apologizing, since it wasn't intentional. "It's
alright. I might have fallen asleep too if someone did that for
me," she admitted. He lifted his head up and she gently started
to towel dry his hair, gently working through his raven black
tresses until they were no longer dripping wet. She asked if he
felt any better, watching as he hesitated for a brief moment
before telling her that he felt much better. He thanked her and
she nodded. "Of course." She noticed a flex in his fingers, his
grip on his wheelchair tightening before loosening again. She
assumed it had something to do with how sore he was. Maybe
laying his head back like he had stiffened his neck. She hadn't
considered that when she arranged everything. He asked if she
was about to leave and she nodded slowly. Before she could say
anything, he asked if he was going to see her again. Of course
he was going to see her again. She'd just made a fuss about how
she didn't want him to be left alone for too long. He said that
she didn't need to come back, that he didn't want to keep her
from anything else. "I'll only be gone for a little bit. I just
need to get myself cleaned up,"[b] she said. [b]"I already told
you, I'm not too comfortable with leaving you here unattended.
Besides, you haven't eaten in a while and someone has to bring
you dinner," she said. "You'll need all the strength you can
get. I'll be back in just a little while," she said.
She got a medical droid to come into the bathroom with Ben
before she finally convinced herself that it was safe to leave
him behind. The droid wasn't made to protect, but maybe with a
witness -- even a mechanical one -- no one would be dumb enough
to make a move. Besides, Ben could defend himself, even in this
state. She just hoped that she could move fast enough to keep
things from getting out of hand. She hurried back to the Falcon,
where she knew she'd be living for a while, until she figured
out something else. She'd spent a considerable amount of time on
Han's ship, which was odd to think about, particularly since she
was spending time with Ben now. She tried not to think about it.
She tried not to think much at all, honestly. Too much had
happened. She spoke with Finn for a moment on her way out, once
again begging him to trust her, telling him that Ben saved her
life, but he was still so, so worried. She understood. She would
feel the same way if the roles were reversed. But he needed to
let it go, to let her be and let her follow her own path. Once
away from him, she managed to find some clothes, wanting to make
sure that Ben had a spare change of clothes so she could wash
his pants and sweater once she got the chance. She'd already
stitched up the hole in his sweater while he was getting his
ribs set, unconscious on the hospital bed. She didn't know what
size he wore in anything, but she found stuff that was big, so
she hoped that would be enough, using mostly greys just in hopes
that he would like them. She had only ever seen Ben in black,
but maybe he'd like to branch out some more, now that he wasn't
sworn to the darkside of the Force. She didn't know whether it
actually mattered. She also grabbed a spare change of clothes
for herself, also grabbing her greys and her blues, just
something clean. She took her hair out of the buns, looking in
the mirror for a moment. Ben did a great job cleaning up her
face, she thought, but she still looked exhausted, dark circles
under her eyes and shallow cuts on her forehead and cheek. She
let out a sigh, undressing before stepping into the fresher.
Even with as quick of a shower as she tried to take, the sound
of the water and the heat from it was enough to let her zone
out, thoughts consuming her for a moment. She thought about Ben
for a while, wondering if he was worried or scared or just
lonely in the med bay. She wondered what he thought of her, how
he was coping with all that had happened. How long would it take
him to be de-conditioned? How long would it take for him to
adjust to being on the right side again? Would he miss anyone
from the First Order? He didn't seem to have any meaningful
connections, but she couldn't be sure. How could he be among
these people for so long and not form ties? Did he have
possessions somewhere that he needed, that he wanted? Or was it
all destroyed? She thought about the Resistance, about her
friends that were surely worried about her. Or were they? They'd
left her on Exegol. But she wouldn't have wanted them to risk
their lives to come back for her. But Ben did. Why didn't anyone
else? She intentionally refused to focus on that. Her thoughts
went to the Jedi's voices that she heard in her head while
fighting Palpatine. Her grandfather, apparently. How did that
happen? Who were her parents? Who was her mother? Now that she'd
killed her only living relative, she'd never be able to have the
answers that she wanted. Her ties to her past, her family, were
gone forever, severed permanently. She'd never get answers.
Ever. Her blood was evil. It explained her darkness, the anger
and her inability to control it so many times. She could use
lightning. She almost killed Chewbacca. God, who was she?
Leia.
She fell to her knees, head resting against the wall of the
fresher as her eyes started to burn. It felt like the wind was
knocked out of her and suddenly she couldn't breathe anymore.
She let out a yelp, folding in on herself and lying on the
shower floor, the hot water mingling with her tears as she
sobbed. Leia. She was gone. Her only mother figure was taken
from her. Forever. She'd lost so many people. Han, Luke, now
Leia. What was she to do? Who was she to look to for guidance?
Who would be her family now? She had Finn and Poe, but they
couldn't offer her a path, given the advice that she needed and
the mentorship that she'd been craving her whole life. They were
friends, family by choice, but no substitute for parents. She
was an orphan again, now and forever. She shook with grief,
feeling part of her had been ripped away from her. She was
suddenly hit with a fear. She didn't know where to go from here
or what to do. She didn't know how to build a life. She couldn't
go back to Jakku. She wouldn't go back to that horrible place.
But she couldn't stay here, on a Resistance base. How was she
supposed to make money to sustain herself? How was she supposed
to eat? She wasn't a soldier anymore, someone who was just fed
with the rations we had for all Resistance fighters. She
wouldn't be living in barracks anymore. She didn't know where to
go. Panic overtook her for a moment, mingling with her sorrow
from understanding Leia's death. She shook, crying all on her
own. This was, unfortunately, not an uncommon thing. She was
used to crying on her own and, after the day she'd had, she felt
that she earned a moment of emotional turmoil. Eventually, she
calmed down, knowing that crying wouldn't solve anything and,
once again, she would be dependent on her own resourceful nature
and her wit in order to survive. It was Jakku all over again.
But Unkar wasn't here to lord over her anymore. She didn't even
have that as a parental figure. She was completely and totally
alone. But, wait a minute, no she wasn't. Ben. He promised to
stick by her side as long as she wanted him to be. And she
wanted him to be. Oh no, Ben. She'd wasted so much time feeling
sorry for herself. She stood up, finishing her shower, washing
up al the dirt and blood that was back on her skin after she
lied at the bottom of the fresher. She wrapped herself up in a
towel, drying her hair to the best of her ability before
slipping on her new change of clothes. She grabbed her bag,
sliding the clothes she'd gathered for Ben into it and setting
off once more, hurrying out of the Falcon and back to the med
bay.
She stopped by the cafeteria along the way, thrilled that the
med bay was offering food. It was generic, things that Rey was
used to eating by now, since the Resistance base still had to
limit portions and keep most of their food very simple and
people-pleasing. Today, the dinner was Aurebesh soup, one of her
favorites. She grabbed two bowls, stomach growling when she came
to the realization that she hadn't eaten all day either. She
also grabbed a few slices of bread for the two of them and
glasses of water, setting them on a tray before carrying them
back to Ben's room. She walked past Finn again, explaining what
she was doing and, once again, asking him to back off for a
while. She entered Ben's room to find him back on the bed,
situated under the covers once more, all bandaged up again. "How
are you feeling?" she asked when she entered, closing the door
behind her and crossing the room to him. She took one of the
rolling tables, pulling it over to the bed and situating it so
that it was in front of him, easier for him to eat. "I brought
you dinner. Soup and bread. I know it's probably not much and
not what you're used to, but it beats ration packs," she said,
setting down his bowl, bread, and utensils. She put his glass of
water on the far end of the table so that he didn't knock it
over while trying to eat, not knowing if the pain medication
made him dizzy or clumsy. "Did the droids increase your
medication like I asked?" she asked, taking a seat in the chair
next to him, glad she kept the tray with her so she had a place
to set her soup. She perked up once more. "Oh, and I almost
forgot, I brought you a change of clothes. And I fixed the hole
in your sweater, but it's in the wash right now," she explained,
patting her bag. [/center]
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