[He senses her intent before she acts. He has ample time to stop her -- but he is so busy thinking about the fact that he could stop this that he doesn't think about whether or not he should -- or how. When he finds his conclusion, her lips are already there, and his reaction plan slips through his fingers like sand.
This is perhaps one of the things in life that is most beyond his ken. He never really had a reaction plan, because displays of -- affection? Trust? Belief? All of these things are foreign, uncomfortable, and new. He's only ever witnessed them as a third party, or as parodies of the emotion they were meant to convey. Lies. Deceptions.
But as Rey lifts herself, bracing her weight against his chest and on the balls of her feet, he understands that this has been stirring for some time. This is not deception -- its honest. He remembers, while she kisses him, when he had deliberately made attempts to cause her discomfort when he first recognized the signs that she found him physically attractive. Even if he hadn't really understood its source -- he would have had to have been blind not to have seen.
And he had encouraged that, knowing. Maybe not really knowing as much as he thought.
Somewhere in the middle of it, his hands had unclasped from the center of his back to catch her at her biceps -- but he cannot bring himself to hold her there or to push her away. Its an effort to take some control, but he doesn't know what to do with it when he has it. In the same way, the kiss is not exactly reciprocated just as he does not attempt to distance himself from it.
The Force betrays him instantly, as does the rest of his expression. His cheeks grow warm to accompany his deer in the headlights sort of look he wears half the time -- where he is focused somewhere inside his own head rather than what is going on right in front of him. He must be imagining this -- why was he imagining this? When had this become something he wanted on this level?
When she finally pulls back, he's left holding her like he's been handed something he doesn't know what to do with, but also something he doesn't want to let go of or give back. It wasn't an answer to his question, not really -- or if he was, he doesn't know how to translate it.
But...something about this answer is better, even if it just leaves him staring at her and struggling to find something to say in the wake of it.]
Yup. That's me. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.
This is perhaps one of the things in life that is most beyond his ken. He never really had a reaction plan, because displays of -- affection? Trust? Belief? All of these things are foreign, uncomfortable, and new. He's only ever witnessed them as a third party, or as parodies of the emotion they were meant to convey. Lies. Deceptions.
But as Rey lifts herself, bracing her weight against his chest and on the balls of her feet, he understands that this has been stirring for some time. This is not deception -- its honest. He remembers, while she kisses him, when he had deliberately made attempts to cause her discomfort when he first recognized the signs that she found him physically attractive. Even if he hadn't really understood its source -- he would have had to have been blind not to have seen.
And he had encouraged that, knowing. Maybe not really knowing as much as he thought.
Somewhere in the middle of it, his hands had unclasped from the center of his back to catch her at her biceps -- but he cannot bring himself to hold her there or to push her away. Its an effort to take some control, but he doesn't know what to do with it when he has it. In the same way, the kiss is not exactly reciprocated just as he does not attempt to distance himself from it.
The Force betrays him instantly, as does the rest of his expression. His cheeks grow warm to accompany his deer in the headlights sort of look he wears half the time -- where he is focused somewhere inside his own head rather than what is going on right in front of him. He must be imagining this -- why was he imagining this? When had this become something he wanted on this level?
When she finally pulls back, he's left holding her like he's been handed something he doesn't know what to do with, but also something he doesn't want to let go of or give back. It wasn't an answer to his question, not really -- or if he was, he doesn't know how to translate it.
But...something about this answer is better, even if it just leaves him staring at her and struggling to find something to say in the wake of it.]