Finn had never seen so much blue in his entire life.
Sure, he’d been to many different places, he’d seen many different things, different people, creatures, many different shades of blue in fact…but all this concentrated blue? It had never occurred to him that there might be so much of it in any one place before, and now he feels silly.
He and Rey are sitting side by side on the rocky ledge that overlooks all that magnificent blue.
Ahch-to, Rey had told him.
I want to start a school here, she’d gone on. To train a new generation of Jedi.
And then she’d invited him to come with her. He’d thought she just wanted his opinion, as an important leader of the Resistance.
But, no, there’d been more to it than that.
“I’d like to train you too, if you want,” Rey had said as they settled on the cliff that overlooked the sea. She’d smoothed her gray tabard over her lap.
Finn hasn’t yet been able to come up with a response to her offer.
He’s a general, he’s been tasked with helping rebuild the New Republic from the literal ashes left in the wake of Galactic civil war. Can he really be a Jedi too?
“Almost seems like looking a bantha in the mouth,” Finn says, finally.
“What? Why?” Rey asks, leaning close, pressing her shoulder into his as they watch the twin suns dip down below the horizon.
A cool, salty breeze sweeps over them, slaps at Finn’s cheeks and draws tears from his eyes. He’d like to think it’s Luke Skywalker, trying to gently knock some sense into his stubborn head.
“Feels too good to be true,” Finn admits, looking away. He focuses on a distant speck in the water. Maybe some sort of sea creature. More likely, a bit of debris from a shipwreck or something. “It’s like everything’s finally clicked into place for me, so of course something is gonna come along to mess it up.”
Rey reaches out, closing her hand lightly over Finn’s. “I feel like that too, sometimes,” she says.
Finn turns his hand and catches her fingers in his, squeezing. “I keep thinking I’m gonna wake up one night to air raid sirens and explosions in the distance.”
“Sometimes I still feel it,” Rey says, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The lightning. Dying.”
“What was it like?” Finn asks. “Being dead, I mean. And then…not.”
Rey’s hand goes completely still under his. “It was strange. I could see myself as if I was looking on from the outside. But I couldn’t make myself heard.” She pauses for a moment, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. “I tried to tell him not to bring me back. Not to give up his life Force for mine.”
Finn turns then, hand slipping away from Rey’s. In the rapidly gathering shadows, she looks unfamiliar. So very unlike the friend he’d come to love and cherish. She looks like someone else entirely.
“Why? Why would you do that?” Finn asks.
Rey draws a knee up to her chest and presses her chin into it. “I felt such peace when I died,” she says. “This feeling of calm came over me. I…I had all the Jedi with me, finally. And I wasn’t alone anymore.”
Finn looks down, feeling inexplicably stung. It was all she had wanted, after all. To not be alone. He couldn’t have begrudged her that, could he?
But a dark voice at the back of his head whispers: she didn’t want to come back to you.
Finn shakes the voice away, refuses to let it sink its claws in.
“Do you regret it, then?” he asks, scooping a rock up in his hand and flinging it off the side of the cliff. “Coming back?”
“No,” she says, scooting closer to him. “I had done what I was meant to do. To end the Sith and help bring balance to the Force. But my job wasn’t over. And…”
Rey reaches out, taking Finn’s hand in hers again. Finn lets her, still unsure about—about everything.
“I wanted to come back for my friends,” she continues, softly. “For the people I love. For you.”
Finn looks at her, searching her eyes. For what, he isn’t sure anymore. Hints of regret? Deception? But he finds none. Only openness and truth, only peace and calm.
“Me?” Finn asks.
Rey smiles. It’s a sweet, unencumbered smile. One he hasn’t seen on her face all that often. “Of course,” she says, as if he should have already known. Maybe he should. “I—I love you.”
Rey leans in and Finn closes the scant gap between them, brushing their lips together. It’s gentle, fragile almost, like spun glass. Rey’s fingers rest lightly over Finn’s chest and he clasps her gently by the elbow.
They don’t separate, only just barely part their lips. He doesn’t want to let her go, afraid if he does she might slip away from him again.
Rey must feel the same way because her hands cup at his face and draw him back in.
The second kiss is like a flare in the night. A burst of sunlight blooming in his chest, consuming him in a wash of heat and sparks. Her lips are soft yet firm, her hands are strong, and nothing feels more right—more meant to be—than this kiss with Rey, right now.