The Cruellest Thing

The Kiss

When they settled for the night, Rose felt the bleak thoughts creeping up on her again. The war was more important, she understood that. And if she were a real hero she would accept that there was a bigger picture. She tossed and turned, trying to shake off the iron grip that had taken hold of her heart. She couldn't stop herself picturing Poe and Finn moving on, the resistance giving up on her.

When she finally fell asleep she dreamt about Crait. She watched her friends board the Millennium Falcon. Watched them fly away without her. She wanted to call out, to tell them that they had forgotten her, but no sound came across her lips. She just stood there unable to even move.

She gasped and almost jumped up. For a moment she thought she tasted salt on her lips, but then she realised that it was just her imagination. She groaned and wiped her face. The fire was long since expired. She could hear Hux snoring quietly on the other side of the fireplace.

She lay awake for about a minute, staring at the roof of their make-shift shelter, listening to the raindrops falling down.

Her ragged breath calmed down as her eyes got used to the darkness. It was only a dream, a stupid dream. But the feeling of dread wouldn't disappear. The iron grip around her heart felt tighter than before. She choked up. She- she had to stay strong like Paige would've. She just had to wait a little longer.

But what if they didn't come? What if she had to die here? All it took was a snake, a predator or even a wrong berry. Perhaps- perhaps it was better to just get over with it? For a very short moment the thought of eternal peace was alluring – no, no she was just tired and alone. That wasn't her talking, all she needed was a break. A little break.

By the stars what would've she given for a bottle of cheap hooch. A night out with her friends, laughing drinking ... She sat up, wiping once again across her face. A break, just a little break from all this.

She looked over at Hux, remembering how good it had felt when he had patched her up. Less alone. Before she knew what she was doing, she got up and crept over. She could just tell him that the ground on her side was wet, she frantically thought. If she could feel him behind her like back then at their first camp ... just a little comfort, a little break to pull through the next couple of days.

It was dark anyway. He was probably drowsy ... probably wouldn't even remember the next day what lie she had told him in the middle of the night.

She lay down next to him and scooted closer, a sudden intake of air indicated that he had woken up as she touched his knees with her hollow of the knee.

"What-"

"It's still raining," she said quietly. Her voice trembled a little. "The ground was wet."

She could feel his body heat on her back, his breath on her neck. After a few moments he shifted slightly. Hesitantly he put his hand on her upper arm. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, electrified her. His breath had quickened and he rubbed his thumb gently over her upper arm. Her heartbeat accelerated. She moved backwards until she touched his body with her back.

His hand now moved up and down her arm, caressing her softly. He placed a light kiss on her neck, she pressed herself closer to him, feeling his growing erection through his pants.

His hand wandered downwards in slow circling movements until it reached her hips. He leaned over her shoulder; the light was very dim, but she still could make out his face, saw the half parted inviting lips. She was tempted, very tempted ... but then she closed her eyes and said: "Don't look at me, and don't talk ..."