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- His eyes flew open. He stared at her in confusion, and maybe…longing?
- The air filled with a resonant hum. Rey drew on everything around her—so much life in that violent ocean!—but mostly she drew on herself. She gave.
- Kylo’s lips parted. His breathing settled. Muscle and sinew and skin were renewed, rejoined. Even the scar on his face knitted closed, leaving his cheek smooth and perfect.
- Rey slumped over, exhausted. She felt his astonished eyes on her, sensed his unasked questions. He was alert, now. Whole. Brimming with life and energy.
- But he said nothing.
- (...)
- Between breaths, she tried to explain. “You were right. I did want to take your hand. Ben’s hand.”
- Before he could respond, Rey grabbed Luke’s lightsaber. The healing had exhausted her, and she was unsteady on her feet as she ran toward the TIE fighter parked on the wreckage.
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