For all she always insisted on being a homebody, Rey's streak of daring managed to stretch at inopportune moments.
Weeks of quiet suddenly interrupted at 3AM when she'd been up researching the best views of the city, shaking him awake and insisting they see it then and there.
2/
Admittedly, it was beautiful. The twisting, glimmering cityscape stretched for miles beneath their feet, lights creating their own galaxies as they filtered out the stars above.
It wasn't even the first time she woke up with his fingertips leaving trails of energy along her skin, far too real for the intangible connection vibrating between them.
Skin finding the warmth of skin, his flesh giving against the indentations of hers.
2/
It was, however, the first time his lips were unafraid of following those pathways laid by creeping fingers. The first time his mouth, lush and perfect as it was, found purchase against the swell of a naked breast, the curve of her throat, the dip of her clavicle.
3/
If you listened closely enough, the Force sang its own tune in time with every living creature. A song never quite learned for how often it changed, rising and falling with the breeze, changing with color as it reacted to the sky's canvas.
So much of his life wasted on ships.
2/
He never knew to long for these things. For the tune hidden in every droplet of water swept up from the lake by the wind, pirouetting in a dance not seen, but heard.
It was almost as melodic as the song Rey hummed as her fingertips skimmed the grassy knoll.
3/
Rey rolled her eyes but said nothing. She allowed Ben to finish braiding her hair, some traditional style she didn't yet understand despite Ben's insistence that she would.
Eventually.
Many things seemed eventual as his wife.
1/15
"Repeat it back to me."
Gritting her teeth, Rey let out a strangled sigh.
"I'll behave."
"Good girl."
Despite her best efforts, she could not help the way her body preened at such a statement. She'd spent so many years without praise, without acknowledgment.
2/
Yet Senator Solo seemed keen on making sure she never went without again.
One of many things she no longer went without.
"This is an important congress, cyar'ika," he repeated for the umpteenth time as he fastened his crystal around her neck.
Until the blizzard blew in while they were drowning in miles of bare skin, intoxicated by nothing more than the mingled breaths filling their desperate lungs.
The door opened to five feet of snow, and he told her she should stay. 1/9
And after an incredible, indescribable night, she found that conversation flowed more easily between them than touches. That he, for all his dexterity with his fingers, could utilize those huge hands for delicate food preparation.
2/
That his fireplace was not only decorative, but useful, with firewood stacked in a small closet she hadn't noticed.
The television he had went largely unused as their one-night romp turned into a three-day midwinter romance.