“You should tell him.”
Finn yelps. It’s a very masculine yelp, obviously, but – Rey has this habit, lately. Of popping up where he least expects it.
“Tell who what?” he asks, when his heart rate comes down.
Rey widens her eyes at him, and jerks her head at Poe. “You were staring. Again.”
“What? No I wasn’t.” He forces a laugh. Poe got a new jacket. It fits him good. Really– “You’re staring.”
“I’m not staring.”
“Just tell him already. You’re driving me insane!” She flicks his nose gently; he bats at her hand. “It’s not doing wonders for your brain, either.”
It occurs to Finn that she thinks he has feelings for Poe.
It occurs to Finn that she’s not exactly wrong. He scowls down at her. “Didn’t you grow up on a desert planet in the middle of nowhere?”
She gives him a toothy grin. “Didn’t you grow up in a place where literally everyone dressed the same?”
“I don’t see how that makes you any more qualified.”
“Qualified to do what?” A heavy arm drapes around his shoulders, reeling him in. Another hand lifts towards Rey, and performs some strange sort of pilot handshake that he isn’t allowed to know. Rey’s whole face lights up as she and Poe (and it’s Poe, of course it’s Poe, the world doesn’t love Finn enough for it to not be Poe) make explosion sounds out of the corners of their mouths.
It’s so cute, he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. Straight up expire.
“Uh.” He looks to Rey for help, but her gaze has conveniently slid away to some other location. “Stuff?”
Poe raises his eyebrows at her. “You having trouble dealing with the stuff, Rey?”
“Actually, I’m finding the stuff fairly all right. Finn might be having a little trouble, though.”
“I’m fine with the stuff!” he says loudly. Poe’s arm still hasn’t moved. Rey’s face still looks like it could set the world afire with joy. Finn is in monumental amounts of trouble.
“Then I suppose I should leave you to it,” Rey says, nudging him. And before he can say anything at all, she’s off across the base, weaving through people with an almost preternatural sort of grace.
Both Poe and Finn just watch her for a moment. And then it passes, and the pilot is gripping him by the shoulders, looking Very Seriously into his eyes. “Listen,” he says, also Very Seriously. “I think you should tell her.”
Finn groans. Very Loudly.
It’s much later when he manages to extricate himself from that particular conversation, and he’s pretty sure all the blood in his body has lurched to his head. He just about knocks over General Organa of all people, because that’s the sort of day he’s having.
She squints at him, and he has the disquieting impression that she’s reading his mind.
….She’s not, right?
“Tell ‘em both at the same time,” she advises. “We could use the entertainment around here.”
The fact that he doesn’t die on the spot is, Finn feels, a testament to his strength and perseverance.
Just another WordPress site