she'd worked so hard to get here, to find him. how could she possibly give it all up now? even despite his demeanor, his hardened disinterest, rey knows that this isn't the end. in some ways, that swelling feeling inside of her insists that this, here and now, is only the beginning. ]
Then, whatever it is you need to show me — to teach me — I'm ready. [ she adjusts her thumb against her staff, an earnest in her voice. ] I want to learn.
[ He realizes that what he's said is a double-edged sword before she even starts to respond, which may have something to do with the crease in his brow when he looks back at her over his shoulder. ]
Who are you?
[ The flash of temper in his voice suggests that the question is rhetorical, mostly because he keeps walking, but he doesn't offer anything up either. ]
[ for a moment, she considers master skywalker has already forgotten her purpose here; it passes and she realizes he wants something deeper, something more personal. her brow furrows and something tightens in her chest — a feeling of doubt, the seed of never, truly, being worthwhile.
she nods, casting the darkness from her thoughts. ]
All I know is: I’m not who I was before all of this started.
no subject
she'd worked so hard to get here, to find him. how could she possibly give it all up now? even despite his demeanor, his hardened disinterest, rey knows that this isn't the end. in some ways, that swelling feeling inside of her insists that this, here and now, is only the beginning. ]
Then, whatever it is you need to show me — to teach me — I'm ready. [ she adjusts her thumb against her staff, an earnest in her voice. ] I want to learn.
no subject
Who are you?
[ The flash of temper in his voice suggests that the question is rhetorical, mostly because he keeps walking, but he doesn't offer anything up either. ]
no subject
[ for a moment, she considers master skywalker has already forgotten her purpose here; it passes and she realizes he wants something deeper, something more personal. her brow furrows and something tightens in her chest — a feeling of doubt, the seed of never, truly, being worthwhile.
she nods, casting the darkness from her thoughts. ]
All I know is: I’m not who I was before all of this started.