[ if he didn't have to look at his reflection, he didn't have to acknowledge most of the scars that were still there. or, at the very least, the one that remained on his face. the way she traces the line reminds him that yep, it's still there all right. her touch makes him feel just as vaguely nauseous as that tiny tidbit of praise. helping her with interrogations would be like its own form of torture.
but -- it did feel good to know that rey still cared, that what's left of the resistance, wherever they were, still cared. were they going to come after him? no. but it still meant something. just like how what he was doing now still meant something to him, even if it didn't matter. even if the girl was going to end up dead.
he couldn't let that happen. he had to think of something. he saved bb-8, he could do it again. even while the knife starts to dig into him, his mind is racing for an answer. something he could say that could fix it. save her. ]
You could -- you could send her back. You could send her back with a message.
[ the only thing he could come up with was literally the exact same plea used for bb-8. and that's ... not good. he knows it's not good. ]
no subject
but -- it did feel good to know that rey still cared, that what's left of the resistance, wherever they were, still cared. were they going to come after him? no. but it still meant something. just like how what he was doing now still meant something to him, even if it didn't matter. even if the girl was going to end up dead.
he couldn't let that happen. he had to think of something. he saved bb-8, he could do it again. even while the knife starts to dig into him, his mind is racing for an answer. something he could say that could fix it. save her. ]
You could -- you could send her back. You could send her back with a message.
[ the only thing he could come up with was literally the exact same plea used for bb-8. and that's ... not good. he knows it's not good. ]