[ Heavy pants fill the air in the absence of any more articulate assessment from either of them, the mutual loss too apparent to warrant a boast on either Force-user's part. Rey's shoulders heave with the labor of each breath.
Quietly, she hoped for him to stay down, to accept the defeat, for fatigue crept down into her bones.
Finally, she dims the beam of her lightsaber, the blue light dying and giving way to the hellish glow shared by Kylo Ren's saber and the blood red of the setting sun. It reflects off the planes of her face. But she would not kill him, would not cross that line. It felt like failing Han Solo, but the alternative felt too much like failing herself. ]
It's mine.
[ And without saying more, she turned to leave, face against the dying light of the sun. ]
no subject
Quietly, she hoped for him to stay down, to accept the defeat, for fatigue crept down into her bones.
Finally, she dims the beam of her lightsaber, the blue light dying and giving way to the hellish glow shared by Kylo Ren's saber and the blood red of the setting sun. It reflects off the planes of her face. But she would not kill him, would not cross that line. It felt like failing Han Solo, but the alternative felt too much like failing herself. ]
It's mine.
[ And without saying more, she turned to leave, face against the dying light of the sun. ]