It was always easy to acquiesce to that particular touch, to lift her chin to meet the kiss halfway, to share the gaze that he's looking for, and to take him in the same way he is her. Is he tired? Worried about her? Worried about what she might do to ship and crew alike if she has another nightmare?

Rey can't tell. All she can see is the same softness she's always seen when he looks at her like this. And that makes some of her worry disappear, too.

She's more than happy to be kissed, if the pleased little noise she makes is any indication. Her fingers, resting on his chest, pull at his shirt, urging him closer, showing how much she wants more. More of those kisses. More touches and affection. More reassurance that yes, everything is going to be just fine.