He brings her food sometimes.
It's one of those things she doesn't think about now, doesn't need to really. Being here, tangled up in the Resistance and labeled as an asset in countless pieces of official paperwork, means Rey doesn't have to worry about where her next meal is coming from. Like everything else, that's covered here - in this case, in the form of a massive dining hall kept open, in various ways, at all hours. Access is not the problem here. If anything, it's more that she forgets entirely.
Thank goodness, then, for partners who keep track of mundane human things.
Training is intense, but it's not a constant roar like she worried it might be and she's allowed to take breaks as needed. More often than not, she just wanders off to the sidelines and rests for a few moments and that's when he'll turn up, something new and delightful in his hands because he knows her almost as well as she knows herself and he knows she'll go an entire day without eating if someone doesn't remind her. Not a moment passes when she doesn't think about how lucky she is to have him, but she almost lives for the little quiet ones, nested together on the grass, breathing each other in. It's almost, but not quite, too cute to be real.
"What's this?" she asks one afternoon, biting into something red and sweet and oddly shaped.
"Strawberry," Poe replies. He's got a whole handful of them for her - probably saw her eyeing them in the dining hall, same way she eyes everything else. Her previous experiences with food have been flavorless and suspiciously grayish-green, and she's not used to the variety here.
"It's delicious," she murmurs, putting the rest of it in her mouth, stem and all.
"No no no, you don't eat that part!" he says just a moment too late, trying not to laugh.
She spits the green part out into the grass, coughing slightly. "I know that now."
He smirks and offers her another and all is forgiven.
(Strawberries, she learns later, mean "you're brave".)
Similar things happen when they're in Medical - the droids say it's only a matter of days now, but what happened to Finn isn't exactly common enough to predict the outcome and they're not really sure what's wrong with him at this point. Rey's practically worn a hole in the floor waiting for her friend to wake up, and she's rarely alone anymore. Unless Poe has a night flight, he joins her as soon as it gets dark, usually bearing some sort of peace offering as he sits down next to her. Evening means heavier things, proteins and real breads and more plant-colors than she ever could've imagined and she's half-tempted to wonder about his own habits but she's too preoccupied with the quiet gentle way he makes sure she's functional. (She should worry, she's pretty sure that's how most people deal with their partners, but she's not sure where to begin with hers.)
She'll eat just about anything, but he still seems to remember what few preferences she has. Remembers, for instance, that she has no great love for anything that gets stuck in her teeth. And remembers, definitely, that sweetbread is her favorite thing in the world. First time she tries it, she moans like she does when they're lying together, and he teases her about it later but he can't help admitting it's cute.
There's so much she hasn't learned yet.
A few weeks into their entanglement, she starts bleeding from her core and runs straight to Medical because she's worried she's going to die. Reality is closer to the opposite, the blood a sign that her body is healthy and capable and good. Getting the where-babies-come-from talk from a droid who has seen too many things is not how Rey expected her night to go, but she's injected with something to make it hurt a little less and another thing to keep her insides from actually creating new life and she supposes it's not a totally bad thing.
Still, she feels awkward as she wanders back to the room. Is that something she ought to discuss with anyone? It's perfectly normal, she knows that, but normal is not a word that meshes well with the pain below her stomach and it's awful as can be.
"You okay?" Poe asks in that way he does when he can see right through someone.
"Everything hurts," she hisses, practically throwing herself onto the bed. If this is supposed to be a good thing, she's got some problems with the world.
"I'll be back," he murmurs, kissing her forehead before he takes off.
She's not sure what's going on, but he comes back twenty minutes later with a bottle of something cold and sweet and it takes the edge off enough to help her rest and everything is okay for a little while.
(Mint tea means "you're not alone anymore" and "you don't always have to be strong".)
She hates it sometimes, the constant feeling of being a parasite. He looks after her, makes sure she's all functional and taken care of, and all she's got to offer in return is her body and that really isn't a balance of things. She's quiet with her fear, doesn't dare say anything for fear of upsetting what they have, but it bothers her deeply and she worries she's too visible about it and-
"Brought you something."
She looks up from where she lies on the grass - she's not training today, there's some sort of logistical kerfuffle and it's nice to have an off day - and motions for him to join her.
He hands her a foil-wrapped square of something - food, definitely, yet another thing she hasn't tried. She tears off the packaging and it's brown and smells wonderful and at least she's learned to take smallish bites of things now and oh this is even better than it looks. Even with trying to pace herself, she practically inhales it.
"What was that?"
"Chocolate. Not good chocolate, but best I could find and I thought… you like food, I like making you happy…"
"Am I that predictable?"
He gives her a blank look. "Kinda?"
She all but tackles him. She is definitely that predictable, but at the moment, it's working out just fine.