What She's Worth (Reylo)

Chapter 12

It took a few more days before Rey would sleep in her own bed again, mostly for the sake of comfort. The bed was far too narrow for both of them, she said, but even so, Ben could sense her hesitation, even uneasiness at having to sleep alone again. He should know, because admittedly, he felt it too. The warmth of Rey's presence had been like a balm, and he had had several nights of good sleep with her breath upon his cheek, her small snores against his ear, and even her night time involuntary kicks, though waking him up at times, was at least a reminder that she was just beside him.

More time passed since he and Rey went back to their old sleeping arrangements, yet even then he was having a hard time adjusting. He often caught himself lying awake at night, staring at Rey, who, more often than not, had her back towards him. He wondered how she could sleep so soundly like that when he was suddenly and unexpectedly so cold and alone.

"It's just a phase," he told himself one morning, as he sprung up from bed and stretched, his eyes once again, wandering towards his roommate, who was still curled up in her bed, blanket tucked up to the neck. He frowned when he saw the chronometer on the wall. She was usually up and about by this time.

"Rey?" He rose and walked over to her, instinctively putting a palm on her forehead. She didn't appear to have a temperature, but he couldn't rule out illness yet. "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled and nudged his hand away before pulling the covers over her head. "Five more minutes."

"Uhm...okay." He waited for a moment, unsure what to do. Rey wasn't exactly acting like herself. She had always been the one to wake him up; not the other way around. "I'll go and use the 'fresher first then."

"Mmhmm," was all he got as a reply. He shook his head before taking some fresh robes and a towel from the closet and heading for the 'fresher.

Once done using the facilities, he towelled himself dry and walked towards the sink for a shave. He had long since begun to grow facial hair but kept it off because of Rey.

"I don't want you looking like Master Luke," Rey had said one time, and that had been enough for him to lather his jaw area with depil cream every few days.

Uncle Luke. He hadn't been the same since that day. He'd been warier. Less talkative. And more observant of Rey. Ben had been trying his best to figure out what had happened in the chapel, even to the point of asking Rey despite her obvious unease. But she could remember nothing. Not even her attack on her master. All she could remember was that the hole opened up moments after she stepped into the chapel and that she had gone down into the darkness. She could recall nothing more after she set foot in the cavern until she woke up in Luke's arms.

Ben splashed his face with cold water. He wanted to stay mad at his uncle for brushing him off, for taking a keener interest over Rey's plight than his own nephew's, but at the same time he couldn't fault him about that. He too was more concerned over the trauma Rey experienced in the cavern, and so he had told himself that perhaps Luke thought he was strong enough to cope with what had happened whereas Rey was going to need all the support she could get.

Yes, he thought while patting his face dry with the towel. That had to be it. His uncle wasn't apathetic to him. He was just more worried about Rey. That, Ben could understand.

He braced himself against the sink and stared at the mirror. His ears were still quite prominent, which was why he kept his hair long to hide them; his moles still numerous, but there was nothing he could do about that; his jaw, square yet somewhat disproportioned, but his nose, which he had once deemed too big, had grown to a pleasant aquiline in his face, and it was complimented by the deep-seated eyes and full lips. He was a perfect blend of his parents, though now he could see more of Han in his profile.