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Poe frantically searched the docking bay for her. It was so packed, so crowded. Among the ships, people were pushing and shoving, trying to find their loved ones. A few of them were crying, others looked relieved beyond belief; there had been a lot of casualties today.
"Dammit!" Poe cursed and turned to BB-8 for assisstance. "Can you see her, buddy?"
The orange, one-of-a-kind BB unit beeped enthusiastically, his motor whirring. He rolled off into the direction of Poe's ship, his pilot hot on his tail. Poe cringed, for he could not see you, while B-8 made another promising string of beeps.
"I don't see her, I don't-" Poe was near tears at this point. If you hadn't made it back, he didn't know what he'd do.
And there you were, sitting on stack of tool kits in front of his ship. You were scanning the crowd eagerly, looking for him, no doubt. He shouted your name, and you caught his eyes. He started to run, and you sprung off the make-shift stool. You closed the distance between you two in haste. You threw yourself over him, wrapping your arms tight around his shoulders.
He let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling the proof of your survival in his arms.
