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The first time Rey compliments him, on their very first date, Ben stops breathing for a whole minute and turns crimson under her gaze, his moles standing out darker against his usually pale complexion. He's all parted lips and slack jaw and wide eyes, almost as if she had just stabbed him, and Rey can't help but giggle at his reaction, which would have been appropriate if she had just insulted him, and not told him all about how nice he looks.
"Don't be so surprised," she teases him, and Ben lets out a small huff of breath that could pass for a self-conscious laughter, turning even redder under her eyes, if possible.
He stares at his feet, then back at her, the ghost of a shy smile on his lips as he shrugs, as quietly as, she has learned, he does everything else. "Yeah, right".
He looks bashful, his cheeks crimson, his hands hidden in his pockets, and he's, well - he's beautiful and utterly adorable, and Rey would like to tease him from here until Christmas just to know how much further he can still blush, but still, it's almost instinctive to stretch out her arm and place her hand on his bicep, her fingers stroking lightly his skin over the soft fabric of his sweater, almost as if to soothe him. Ben turns even more crimson, passing a blushing limit she didn't know it existed - the tips of his ears, peeking through his hair, are flushed pink, and somehow she feels her heart go tight at the sight, and she can't help but smile.
She has known him for such a short time, barely a handful of weeks since they've met at Poe and Finn's housewarming party, but - but she already likes him so much her body feels too small to contain all the tenderness she feels in this moment, so she doesn't even try. She smiles, her thumb stroking his arm with ease.
"Hey, is everything okay?" she asks him, her voice gentle and soothing, barely a whisper. She flashes him a small, encouraging smile when she meets his eyes, and the way he lets out a shuddering breath and relaxes into her touch makes her melt. "I just wanted to say you look nice. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I'm sorry".
Ben shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the way her fingers curve around his arm, as if to assure himself it's really happening. "No, please, don't apologize. It's just-" he tries to say, then he presses his lips together, as if reasoning with himself. He seems to reach some kind of resolve, because he shakes his head again and curves his lips into a hesitant, boyish smile that makes her heart skip a few beats. "Thank you".
Rey's grin grows wider, and she feels her heart flutter in her chest, for reasons she can't exactly name. "You're welcome," she replies, simply, as her hand slowly travels down and her fingers find their way around his almost too easily. She squeezes his hand when she notices his surprised expression, and her heart misses a beat when he flashes her a look of disbelief, as if he was still catching up with reality and couldn't really believe it. "You do look nice, you know," she reiterates, then, as her eyes skim over him.
He doesn't look nice. He looks incredible - he looks both ordinary and otherworldly in his dark jeans and soft sweater, his long hair brushing against his neck and seeming so soft Rey has to hold back from touching it, his full lips and bright eyes and a mix of prominent features that fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He looks like some kind of marble statue, with his towering frame and wide shoulders, but the smile he flashes her is small and innocent and boyish, and the way his eyes shine reminds her of something pure and marvelous, a mix of awkward and charming that has her on her toes. He doesn't just look nice - he looks beautiful and like everything Rey has ever dreamed of, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she hadn't had a crush on him from the very first time she had spotted him in Poe's old college photos, but she doesn't know how to say all of this in words, so she just squeezes his hand, hoping it will convey the message all the same.
Ben lets out a small chuckle, intertwining their fingers with awe and ease at the same time, as if he had been waiting a whole lifetime for her and he still couldn't really believe it. "Careful now," he teases her, as they start walking in the chilly November evening. "I might let it go to my head".
She laughs, throwing her head back and letting Ben hold her close, their sides almost pressed together. Surely he must know, she thinks as she watches him smile at her with a hint of red still on his cheeks. She doesn't doubt, not even for a moment, that he knows, at least in part, how beautiful he is, how devastating that crooked smile of his is when he turns into her direction, how his eyes shine brighter than the streetlights.
Someone must have told him before. She's probably not the first to be captivated by the strange duality of sharp features and kind eyes and that awkwardness and softness about him that make her heart go tight in her chest. But he looks at her as if taken aback by her very existence, as if he couldn't phantom the idea of someone finding him attractive and wanting to date him, and she feels out of breath every time she catches his surprised gaze.
He takes her to the movies, and they spend the whole time holding hands in the dark room. The screen casts odd shadows on his angular face, and she smiles, wondering how it would feel to brush her fingertips against his cheekbones, mapping out his moles. Ben catches her gaze more than once, and smiles, awkwardly and gently at the same time, a hint of red on his cheeks, and Rey likes him so much for it. She squeezes his hand, her thumb brushing against his knuckles in a silent reassurance, and he eases into her, melting like fresh snow under the first shy, tender rays of sun. It feels weirdly intimate, as if they had known each other in some other universe and he had recognized her by the touch of her fingertips.
She kisses him that very night. He walks her back home, talking about the movie, and he's so passionate about it, it makes her smile, despite how divergent their opinions are. They banter about the characters and discuss the plot points and argue about the ending, and when they finally reach her apartment, she raises on her tiptoes, lacing her arms around his neck, and she kisses him, her hands finally sinking into his black curls, which are even softer than she expected them to be. Ben trembles in her arms, and kisses her slowly, as if to savor this moment, his hands finding their way around her hips to pull her closer. She coaxes his lips open, and he lets out a surprised gasp against her mouth, such a gentle, loving sound that she wants to memorize, only to replay it in her mind when she’ll think about this moment.
When she breaks away gasping for air, he looks transfixed - awe in his eyes, surprise on his face, as if it hadn't occurred to him that she could ever want to kiss him.
"So," she murmurs on his lips, as her fingers play with his hair. Ben wraps his arms around her, enveloping her in his embrace and warmth, and it's surprisingly easy to feel at home like this, in the middle of a sidewalk right in front of her apartment, and it should be alarming, but somehow it's not. "See you tomorrow?"
He nods, gulping. His cheeks are redder than ever, and that crooked grin is back on his face and Rey - Rey is sure she falls a little bit in love with him right there, in this moment as they stand on the sidewalk, because this wonderful, beautiful man is blushing in front of her just because she has kissed him, and this undoes her completely. It feels irreversible - as if this night had been a turning point in her life.
"Yes," he says, in the end, as his face breaks into that shy, boyish grin she's starting to anticipate with a flutter of her heart. "See you tomorrow".
He kisses her again, eager and tender at the same time, nibbling just slightly at her bottom lip, and Rey never wants to let go of him. He bids her goodnight with a kiss on her forehead, and waits for her to open the door and step inside her building, and then she watches him walk away, fighting the urge to call him back just to kiss him again and again and again, until the night fades into the trembling day and they're the only ones left in the world.
She watches his frame disappear around the corner - a last glimpse of his dark hair and long legs, and then she smiles, widely, and she doesn't stop smiling for the whole week.
*
Much to her surprise, Ben starts to pick her up after work after a few weeks of dating, even if she tells him it's not necessary.
"You don't have to," she says, repeatedly, but he shrugs her words off with a smile that seems to send her heart into chaos every time, making it thunder against her ribcage with a dull sound. She often wonders if he can hear it, but she realizes she doesn't mind.
He leans in, pressing a kiss to her temple with a fond, usual gesture that still has her reeling. "I get to see you," he points out, as if it was an explanation, and, before she can even begin to grasp his words and make sense of them in her mind, he leans down and kisses her so tenderly she forgets what they were even talking about.
And so, he's there when she gets out of work, warm eyes and crooked smile, and he greets her with a grin and a cup of the coffee order she loves and he has memorized in the span of a few days without even her noticing. The winter wind sweeps his hair a little bit, making a mess out of it, but he still looks like something taken out of a movie, a frame in black and white that has come to life by some kind of magic.
She watches him for a moment, before joining him - his sharp features, the smile on his face, his long legs and broad shoulders and the way his gaze settles on her - and her heart twists in her chest, beating loudly against her ribcage. Her co-workers eye him with a curious, enthralled expression, and she feel some kind of pride to know that Ben is hers - that the wonderful, incredible man right there is here because of her.
"Hey," she says, walking up to him. The air is getting chilly, and when she curves her fingers around the cup of coffee he's handing her, the beverage is at the perfect temperature for her to drink - not too hot to burn her tongue, not too cold to taste awful and stale. She often wonders if he times his order, or if he's just lucky, but the attentive way his eyes linger on her as she takes the first sip, maybe trying to decipher if it's okay or not, tells her it's probably the former.
Her heart does a weird thing in her ribcage every time she thinks about it.
She raises to her tiptoes to press a kiss that tastes like coffee to his lips and Ben smiles, melting into her as if she was slowly heating up his frozen bones. "Thank you," she says, a whispered secret between the two of them.
He lets out a little laughter, and his arm snakes around her waist as they slowly start to walk into the busy streets of Coruscant, the streetlights starting to light up like fireflies, one after another against the approaching darkness.
"You don't have to thank me," he reminds her, kissing her temple the way he usually does, but she shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee and letting it warm her the way Ben's embrace does.
"I do," she replies, firmly, not a trace of hesitation in her voice. "You're, like, the best person I've ever met".
A low chuckle escapes his lips, and it sounds almost self-deprecating, in a way Rey is not familiar with. She frowns, confused, turning slightly to stare at him, as if to read all the answers to her silent questions on the moles of his face. "That's the caffeine high talking," he says, then, with a smirk, playfully bumping their shoulders together.
It feels devastatingly easy to fall into this kind of intimacy with him, as if she had always known him somehow, their soul connected by a string even before they met. She tugs at his coat, and scrunches up her nose, making it clear that she doesn't agree with him. "Shut up," she tells him, petulantly, and he laughs again, his arm around her waist pulling her into him. "It's the truth".
His answer is a kiss to her temple. "Whatever you say, sweetheart".
*
It takes her a few months of dating to realize he doesn't actually believe her words, and he doesn't know how beautiful, how wonderful he is.
At first, it's nothing - it's Ben shrugging it off when she compliments his neat handwriting, or his usual self-deprecating chuckle when she threads her fingers through his hair and tells him she likes how soft it is. It's almost trivial, and it passes by undetected, a haunting presence that makes itself known only when she tells him something nice and he tries to brush it off with reddened cheeks and pensive eyes.
She thinks it's modesty, at first - because she can't phantom the idea of this incredible man not realizing his worth, looking in the mirror and not seeing himself, but a distorted version of everything she's starting to love -, but the truth hits her one evening, after three months of dating, and it’s so sudden and unexpected that takes her breath away.
It's a quiet Saturday evening, and they're at his place (a cozy, small apartment in the nicest neighbourhood Coruscant has to offer), cuddled on the couch she has often deemed way too big for the two of them (and still, despite how enormous it is, she always finds a way to end up safely tucked by his side, his arm around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest). He's cooked dinner for both of them, and they have washed off the dishes together, with practiced ease, as if they had always done this, and it all screams about an intimacy, a domesticy that Rey had never thought possible in her life.
Now they’re cuddled on the couch, and they're watching a movie, but as usual, she pays less attention to the screen and more to Ben, to the way his hair falls on his forehead and brushes against his neck, and his ears peek through those black curls. It's a sight she has learned to know in these months, but it always makes her heart go tight in her chest by the amount of love she feels. She doesn't know how to say it, so she smiles and squeezes his hand.
Ben notices, of course - as if his very senses were attuned to her only, detecting every fleeting emotion passing through her mind. He turns into her direction, nuzzling against her cheek in a habitual gesture that makes her heart flutter in her chest despite how many times he has done this before.
“Everything okay?” he asks, gently, his lips brushing against her cheekbone in the tenderest imitation of a kiss.
Rey nods, basking into his affection and burrowing even closer into him, letting his warmth envelope her. “Yeah,” she replies, as his lips travel up to leave a kiss against her temple. It surprises her how affectionate he can be, how tactile, how physical his language of love is, but not really - he’s never comfortable around words, stumbling upon them like a kid who’s having trouble grasping the concept of talking. But it’s easy for him to hold her hand, to wrap his arms around her frame, and to shower her in love and it makes her heart thunder in her chest, because no one has ever loved her the way he does, quietly but with a fierce determination, an intensity that pours from his eyes every time he looks at her. “I was thinking …”
He’s littering her face in small, little kisses that elicit a silvery giggle from her. “Mh?” he mumbles, way too focused on his task to elaborate on further.
She doesn’t let him distract her and pulls away from him just to stare at his beautiful face - familiar in a domestic way, full of moles she knows by heart by now. She could trace their constellation with her eyes closed, and it surprises her to know that she can be so intimate with someone else and feel utterly safe in this.
He smiles a little bit, and small dimples appear on his cheeks, and her fingers come to brush against it, fascinated by the sight even if she has seen them many times before.
It’s obvious he’s still waiting for her answer, because he raises his eyebrows, lips playfully turned upwards, and her fingers travel upwards, brushing against his lobe as she replies, “I really like your ears”.
His reaction is both immediate and surprising. He blushes as he usually does, skin turning red under her gaze, but there’s no chuckle or grin - his smile immediately fades away from his lips, and his mouth is pressed in a thin line. His eyes search her face for a couple of seconds, then he seems to be unable to hold her gaze, because he looks away, bringing one hand to his ear, as if to remind himself he still has them.
He swallows, his lips trembling from the intensity of his unspoken words as he does. “You don’t have to say it,” he murmurs, in the end. Her fingers brush against the shell of his ear, underneath his black curls, and he shivers into her touch.
Her brows knit together in a frown almost out of their own accord. “What do you mean?” she asks, not really following him. Her fingers travel lower until they reach his chin, and she gently tilts his face upwards so she can look into his beautiful, pensive eyes. He's still blushing, but he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here, and it breaks her heart to see him like this. "Hey. Is there something wrong?"
He shrugs, quietly, and despite his broad shoulders and towering frame, he looks so small right now, as if a word from her could end him completely. He looks younger than his thirty years, almost a kid with big eyes and an insecure expression on his face, curved on himself as if to protect himself from the next blow.
"It's just- I know I'm not- I'm not-" He struggles to find the right words, and stares at her as if he could read them on the constellation of freckles on her face, then presses his lips together and lets out a shuddering, painful breath. "I know I'm not good looking and kind of a hopeless case and my ears look stupid. I got teased all the time in high school, I know they look stupid," he adds, as if sensing the protest on the tip of her tongue. "Nobody really likes them. You don't have to say it".
A few seconds pass like this - Ben awkwardly staring at her with such a sadness in his eyes it breaks her heart, and his words hanging in the air around her, as she tries to grasp them. This knowledge - the fact that Ben thinks he's not good looking, not good at anything, really, just a hopeless case and nothing more - rewrites the last few months they've spent together and she finally understands why he shrugs off her compliments so easily, as if tossing away a ill-fitting jacket.
“Ben-”
“You don't have to feel bad for me,” he interrupts her, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “It's okay. I know I'm not … much”.
She shakes her head, unable to understand it. How can this wonderful, beautiful, incredible man think he's not much? The words don't make sense in her mind and she aches to let him see himself the way she does - a star so bright it puts all the other lights to shame.
It's clear that he isn't expecting her to contradict him, so when she takes his face into her hands, thumb brushing against his cheekbones, he looks surprised by this turn of events, as if he expected her to pull away from him now that she's seen him as he thinks he truly is.
"I like them," she replies, quietly. Her fingers trace patterns on his face, brushing gently against his skin, and he shivers again in her touch, his breath on his lips - such a deafening sound in the quietness of his apartment. The way he stares at her makes her stomach drop - there's such a honest vulnerability about him, his eyes full of adoration and love and utter and complete trust. He stares at her, and it feels like he's trusting her with his fragile, stubborn heart. "I like your ears, and your nose and your lips. I like your eyes. I like your face. I like everything about you".
Something flashes in his eyes - disbelief, surprise, eagerness to believe her even if it's crystal clear he doesn't dare to hope , and it makes her heart go tight into her chest, as if something had suddenly started to squeeze it. "You do?" he asks, and even if he tries his best, he can't hide the hopeful undertone in these few words.
She lets a small, tender laughter, as her fingers trace the lines of his face. "I do," it's her whispered reply. "I really do".
He smiles, as tentatively as a kid who has just learned how to walk and is still terrified of falling down, but it's so beautiful it takes her breath away. It's crooked and boyish and so Ben that her heart flutters in her chest, and she absentmindedly thinks I did that, I made him smile.
It happens so slowly she can't remember who is the one to move first, if it's her or Ben, but - but he's leaning in and she's grasping his shoulders for support and they're kissing. It's gentle, and tender, and intimate, as soft and loving as Ben, and Rey knows, with certainty, that this is where she belongs, that she will gladly spend her whole life trying to make Ben feel loved the way he does with her. Somehow, she hopes he knows, and it doesn't scare at all.
She rests her head on his chest again, and he puts his arm around her shoulders and it feels perfect, as if everything in her life had conspired to bring her here, into his arms, on a quiet Saturday night. He puts the movie back on, and brushes his lips against her forehead, humming softly under his breath. His heartbeat is a rhythmic sound that pulls her in, a lullaby lulling her to sleep.
“You know,” he says, after a few minutes, deliberately casual, too much for him. Rey raises her eyebrows, and tilts her head slightly upward, to look into his pensive eyes. His cheeks are still red, but he acts as if he hadn't noticed. "I think I'm falling in love with you".
He says it with no hesitation - it's effortlessly and easy, his voice resounding with a certainty Rey has heard very few times before, but she knows how much it costs him. She can feel it in the way his lips tremble against her forehead, and his fingers trace nervous patterns against her shoulder. Nothing betrays how terrified he actually his, except for his thundering heart, which is hammering in his chest as loudly as a cannon.
She smiles, and rests her head on his chest again, marvelling at the beauty of his heartbeat underneath her cheek. A dull, rhythmic sound that calls to her, and tells her she doesn't have to be alone anymore.
“Good,” she murmurs back, as he strokes her hair in slow, gentle movements, his breath short on his lips as he waits for her answer. “Because I'm falling in love with you too”.
*
rey (10.04 AM): btw u looked really nice this morning, i never wanted to leave ur bed
ben (10.07 AM): Rey. You don't have to say it, you know.
Her teeth start to worry her bottom lip almost out of their own accord, as she reads his words over and over again, as if to make sense of them in her mind. She can imagine him right now - crimson cheeks, lips pressed together in a thin line, a pensive expression on his face and a wrinkle in the middle of his forehead as he twists his hands, as if preventing himself from clawing at his own face. Rey has learned all his reactions - she's become an expert on Ben's nervous gestures, the tense way he reacts to compliments, that look in his eyes as he stares at her, the desperation of wanting to believe her but not daring to, the burning need to ask her why so easy to read on his beautiful features. Sometimes she wonders if he’ll ever ask her - she knows he wants to, she knows he needs to know what she sees in him that he can’t see for himself.
Her heart aches to be with him right now, just to kiss his forehead and tell him she's not doing anything - she's just complimenting her boyfriend because she wants to, because he did look really nice this morning, sleepy and soft from the night and clinging to her as she wrestled free of his grasp because she had to get to work. He looked glorious in the hesitant light of the sun, all messy hair and heavy lids, so utterly defenseless and devastatingly intimate as he watched her put her clothes on with a pout on his lips. He looked beautiful and she just wanted him to know, that’s all, there’s no hidden motif, no silent scheme. Just her need to tell him how nice he looked there, buried in the sheets of his bed with his puppy eyes and his curved lips, making her regret her decision not to stay in.
rey (10.08 AM): that's why i’m saying it
A brief silence, then -
ben (10.10 AM): Thank you.
There's no other protest, no silent shrug, no self deprecating chuckle, not even via text. Just a thank you that doesn't exactly feel like a victory, but that doesn't even taste like defeat. It must have cost him so much not to fight her on this, and while she knows he still probably doesn't believe her and he told her that just to shut her up, Rey smiles, tracing the words with the tip of her fingers as if to burn them into her skin and sink into her mind.
rey (10.11 AM): i really love u, u big nerd. see u tonight after work?
ben (10.12 AM): Yes, I’m making pasta. Love you too, sweetheart.
*
They spend so much time in each other’s apartment it feels like they’re already living together, but it happens so gradually Rey can barely tell the moment this had started.
Now there’s a drawer in his room where she keeps her clothes, and another toothbrush in her bathroom for when he stays over. They’ve made a joint Netflix account, just to fight about what to watch after dinner, as Ben puts it. He teaches her how to cook, and they spend their evenings in his on her kitchen, cutting down vegetables and stirring sauces on the stove. He massages her shoulders when she comes back from work, and presses little kisses down her spine, successfully erasing any other thought from her mind. She makes him coffee in the morning the way he likes it when he stays over, and fixes his laptop when it dies, and introduces him to her favorite movies and books.They spend an awful lot of times arguing over them like two kids, and Rey thinks it’s the happiest she’s ever been in her life.
They go grocery shopping together, and they bicker about who should be the one to pay, and he buys her pads and tampons and even those chocolate bars she loves when she gets her period. She doesn’t even has to ask him - he just knows, and comes home with everything she needs despite her not having uttered a word about it. He drops the chocolate bars in her lap when he steps inside her apartment, and presses a kiss to her temple in his usual gesture.
It’s so utterly easy and domestic it takes her breath away, no matter how many months have passed since that first date so many nights ago. It feels new and raw, a delicate flower that’s just bloomed despite it all, and Rey wants to savor this moment - the tenderness of all this, the intimacy of it, the simple and spontaneous gestures that speak of fondness and love even when Ben doesn’t realize it.
She sighs, basking into his affection, too sore to do anything else. She's splayed on the couch, and it feels easy to lean into his touch, nuzzling into his palm when his hand comes to brush against her cheek, pulling her hair away from her face.
She hums, content. “You’re heaven sent,” she says, and he chuckles - that usual low, self-deprecating chuckle she knows so well and she'd like to erase from his lips. She knows that she can't change the way he sees himself, but she hopes he will learn to love himself the way she loves him, at least a little bit.
In time, she thinks. She's not going anywhere, after all - and it feels so big, because her life has been a kaleidoscope of place after place, of people who have left her behind and nightmares she has tried to escape, never settling for long, just passing by, family after family as some kind of package delivered on an unknowing doorstep. But now - now it feels right, it feels like Ben waiting home for her when she gets out of work, and greeting her with a kiss as soon as she steps into his apartment, happy as a kid on Christmas day just because she’s there.
“Nonsense,” he replies, stroking her hair. His lips are warm against her forehead, and she hums again, pleased by his closeness. “You’re in pain, it’s the least I can do”.
“Ben,” she murmurs, sternly, opening her eyes to stare right into his, hoping to convey all the feelings stirring just beneath the confusing surface of her thoughts. “You’re amazing. I’m serious”.
He stays in silence for a few seconds, and it feels like this silence prolongs itself for a lifetime. Then, he lets out a small huff of breath that could pass for a laughter, but that doesn't have the usual self-deprecating quality about it. It's not much, she thinks, but at least it's something, and her heart feels so full as he stares back at her with a tentative smile on his lips.
It feels like he wants to believe her, for once, and it's so beautiful her heart goes into utter chaos in her chest, fluttering like a crazy little bird against her ribcage.
“Yeah, right," he says in the end, dismissively, but it doesn't feel half as terrible as usual. "I’m storing these in the bathroom and making you a heating pad, okay?”
She nods, splaying even further in the couch and smiling happily at him. "I love you”.
He plants another kiss on her forehead. "Love you too, sweetheart".
*
“It’s almost a shame to undress you,” she whispers between kisses as she feverishly works open the button of his shirt, ignoring her own words. “You look so good in a suit”.
Her words are met with a laugh, barely a huff of breath against her mouth, its vibration reverberating through her bones as a thunder, making her shiver in his embrace. “I can assure you I don't”.
They're back from one of Leia’s parties - the very first she's been invited to -, and though Ben has whined his way into his suit, complaining about how uncomfortable it was and how much he wanted to just stay at home and order pizza trying his best to forget he even has a mother in the first place, he has never looked as glorious as he did while wearing a suit. Rey loves Ben - loves the way he smiles as he lies half naked in her bed, loves the way his sweaters always fall a little bit big on him, loves him in plain clothes and in pajamas and even in that awful tracksuit that she has vowed to burn by the end of the year. But Ben in a suit - she's not sure she even has a word for that.
She doesn't stop at his sarcastic retort. Her fingers keep on fumbling with the buttons, her skin brushing against his as his shirt falls open and she finally pushes it off his shoulders. Ben lets her do it in silence, alternating between small, broken whimpers and hungry, desperate kisses when she starts tracing the muscles of his abdomen with her fingertips, as if trying to memorize him by touch alone. He shivers when her fingers brush against his skin - as if she was touching him for the very first time.
“Let me be the judge of that,” she replies, in the end, quietly, pulling away from him just enough to push him into the bed. He follows her lead, pliant and awestruck, wonder in his eyes as if he was seeing her for the very first time and couldn’t really believe it. “You're not exactly the most reliable source of information on that”.
This time, her words are met with a brief, breathless laugh that resounds so deeply within her, because it bears no trace of the usual self-deprecating quality about it he usually carries with himself everywhere he goes. Ben just sits there, at the edge of his mattress, with a hesitant expression on his face and a tentative smile on his lips, and it's something spectacular - broad shoulders and toned arms, and his chest dotted in moles, a constellation known to her eyes only. He’s a marvel of bones and muscles, something that would look perfectly right in a museum. The trousers of his suit are a little bit wrinkled, but he looks divine, like something taken out of her dreams. His hair falls on his face, and she stretches her arm to push it away, threading her fingers through his soft strands, marveling still at their softness as the first time.
Her heart does a weird twists into her chest, when he leans into her touch, and she thinks she has never loved someone so much, as if every atom of her body was made for this, for colliding against his in a trembling, magnificent chaos.
“You're beautiful,” she whispers, reverently. Her fingers travel down, tracing the lines of his face - the straight line of his nose, the sharp dip of his cheekbones, the full curve of his lips, marveling at his beauty as if she was seeing him for the first time all over again. Her heart beats so loudly against her chest, it almost feels like it’s trying to claw its way out of his cage of bones only to present itself at Ben’s feet. “You're so beautiful, Ben”.
A meaningful silence falls on the room. He looks like he wants to protest - she knows he wants to. She knows he has the words of the tip of his tongue, she knows something in him dies to utter them, she knows he probably can't believe her and see himself through her eyes. There’s a burning intensity about him that resonates within her, as if they had been tied together a long time ago, and she can feel how much he wants to correct her. But he stays in silence, and it’s the most beautiful silence she has ever heard in her life.
When she climbs into his lap, she laces her arms around his neck and kisses him - kisses him for a lifetime, slowly and lazily, trying to pour into that kiss everything she's feeling, everything she’s got no words for. His hands are on her hips, his fingers running up and down her spine, and she feels at home like this, safe and loved as she's never felt before and she hopes that somehow she can make him feel the same.
“I love you so much,” she reminds him, because it feels right to. He kisses her again, silently, and she knows he knows. He may still having trouble believing her, but he doesn’t doubt her anymore, and it feels more important than everything else right now.
She shows him how beautiful he is that very night. She kisses every inch of his body, whispers praises against his very skin, reminds him how much she loves him at every chance she gets. She takes his hands into hers, planting a kiss in each palm with all the devotion she can pour into such a simple gesture, and she wonders if Ben can feel it - how much it means to her, how much he means to her. She has never felt this way - this mix of awe, love and intimacy every time she catches his gaze, as if she had spent her whole life travelling through the world only to find her real home here, in his arms, with his eyes that speaks of trusts and affection and worship.
“I love you,” she murmurs against his skin, and Ben kisses her and kisses her, and she finally knows he knows.
*
They move in together after barely a year since they've started dating. It's Rey the one to ask, obviously, making Ben turn crimson and rendering him speechless for about three minutes. She worries she’s been too forward and she’s about to tell him that he doesn’t have to say yes, but then he smiles so brightly she thinks she falls a little bit in love with him all over again, and all the pieces fall back together again.
Despite being the one to propose this in the first place, though, Rey finds herself packing all her things, bringing them to Ben's, because his place is bigger and nicer than her small apartment, and it feels more like home than every house she's ever lived in in the past twenty-four years anyway. It feels right, she thinks - for once she’s not moving because she has to, but because she wants to, because there’s someone who wants her to be there. Ben helps her pack, of course, and brings her boxes up to his place, never letting her carry too much stuff at once and preventing her from doing all the heavy lifting, despite all her protests.
“You know,” she says, teasingly, as he places the last few boxes on the floor, breathing heavily, and she closes the door of his apartment, stepping in after him. “I could have done it myself”
Ben turns into her direction with a knowing smile. He has tied his hair back so it didn't get in the way when he was moving boxes and stuff, so she can bask in all the glory of his beautiful, angular face - the one she can recognize even with her eyes closed, even by the smallest touch of her fingertips. It feels impossible not to smile, when he stares at her with his deep eyes that shine even in the light of his living room and that bright, burning happiness about him that he doesn't seem able to shake off since they've started talking about moving together. He’s glowing, and she feels some kind of warmth seep into her bones, and she realizes for the first time how much she has ached for this - for someone to call home, after having wandered for so long.
“I know,” he says, then, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek, so casually affectionate it still makes her heart flutter. She wonders if it’ll ever disappear - if she’ll ever get used to the idea of being loved. It doesn’t bother her, to think she won’t. “But you didn't have to”.
It still feels so new - she's never had someone to rely on, someone to do the hard work for her, someone who carried the heavy stuff for her not because they deemed her unable but because they genuinely wanted to help her, and then Ben walked into her life, complicated and awkward and charming all at once, and now he picks her up after work when he can and buys her that special brand of chocolate she loves and makes her tea when she's tired and carries her groceries just because he wants to and it feels so incredibly big but also so natural, as if she had been waiting the whole time for someone like him to share her life with.
She doesn't know how to say it in words - when it comes to this, words seem to flutter around her, but when she tries to reach for them and grasp them in her hands, they have already flown away. So she does what it comes naturally - she places the box she was holding on the floor and walks up to Ben, lacing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.
He gasps on her mouth, surprised, but he’s quick to wrap his arms around her and before she can stop him, he's lifted her off the ground, and they're stupidly twirling around in his - their apartment. It feels silly and foolish, but Rey has never been happier. The reality of it finally settles in - this is their place, their home. This is where she’ll come back after work every day, and where she’ll wake up every morning, Ben curled up all around her, nuzzling his nose against her shoulder the way he usually does. This is where they’ll celebrate the holidays and where, maybe one day, in the future - she doesn’t even dare to process that thought, but the idea of tiny feet paddling through these rooms and toys littering the floor flashes through her mind, so briefly she can barely realize it, leaving only warmth and hope and happiness behind.
This is home.
“Thank you,” she whispers on his lips, as he pulls away. He raises his eyebrows, confused, but never puts her down, so she hovers above the floor, her arms safely wrapped around his broad shoulders. It still feels so silly, but she’s not going to protest, not right now. “Not for helping me, I mean, yeah, that too, but … Thank you for giving me a home”.
He's still frowning, a wrinkle in the middle of his forehead that often appears when he's deep in thought. “I didn't- I mean, I didn't do anything, the apartment-”
A laughter escapes her lips, and she pulls their foreheads together, staring deeply into his eyes now that they're at the same level. “No, not the apartment,” she explains, softly. “You. You're my home”.
The raw, intense tenderness that appears on his face after her words takes her breath away, and when he leans in to kiss her again, Rey can almost taste his love on his lips, can feel it in the way he holds her. She has never felt as loved as she feels right now, as they twirl around their home, surrounded by piles of boxes and furniture to assemble.
He kisses her nose when he pulls away, and this makes her giggle.
“You’re the best thing that's ever happened to me,” she confesses, smiling broadly, and while his face is crimson and he looks like he wants to contradict her, he doesn't try to protest, but accepts her words with a gracious, tender smile and a kiss to her cheek.
“I love you,” he says, always so easily, almost effortlessly, as if the words had always been there for him, and he had spent his whole life waiting for the moment to utter them to her. Then, he finally lowers her down, and presses a last lingering kiss to her forehead. “Come on, you've promised me to help me assemble the furniture. I must warn you, I'm a hopeless case when it comes to this”.
She can't help but giggle. “Alright, let's save you from this Ikea shaped nightmare”.
*
They're lying on their bed, safely tucked under the sheets, when Ben says it.
He's nuzzling her shoulder, planting little kisses on her skin, and his arm is wrapped around her waist, their legs tangled together. It feels languid and lazy, it tastes like home. It’s an uneventful night, just like all the other ones they have spent in their apartment after a long day of work, but there’s something buzzing just beneath the surface of the evening, something that Rey can feel in the way he’s holding her, his thumb lazily tracing circles over her hipbone.
Then, she hears him swallow, and let out a shuddering breath she feels right against her skin. “No one has ever looked at me the way you do,” Ben whispers, in the end.
His lips are pressed right against her shoulders, so his words seem to sink into her skin, into her bloodstream, flowing to her heart in a whispered confession to her only. “What do you mean?” she asks, as her hand automatically travels down to his, and she intertwines their fingers with ease.
Ben stays in silence for a few minutes, but she’s not worried - she has come to know him and his silences, the way he stays quiet before speaking, as if to collect all his thoughts and organize them in a coherent speech. Her fingers trace patterns along the back of his hand, her thumb stroking his knuckles in the reassuring gesture Ben has always seemed so fond of, and he presses another kiss to her skin, absentmindedly worshipping her even now.
“You look at me as if you were seeing something wonderful,” he says, in the end. His voice doesn’t tremble, but she can feel how much it costs him to accept the thought, the tenseness in his body even as he holds her close. At first, when they had first started dating, he had always been so tense Rey had often wondered if he was going to shatter, somehow - but Ben had surprised her, as he always does, and had melted into her, as if the sharp edges of his personality had been softened, in a way. “As if I was made of stars. No one has ever looked at me like this before”.
A smiles comes on her face almost automatically, and she squeezes his hand, their fingers still intertwined. “It was about time, then,” she murmurs, just as quietly as him, but with the same certainty and determination she feels in her bones every time she thinks about him. “You are wonderful”.
There’s another silence, but tenser. She can still feel his restlessness even as he holds her and his breath ghosts over her skin and making her shiver. She’s about to ask him if he’s okay, if she’s said something wrong or offended him somehow, when he speaks again.
“Marry me”.
It’s so sudden she barely has the time to think. She rolls over in his arms, finally facing him, and though it’s dark, she can perfectly make up his face against the night. She opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, as she struggle to remember how talking works. “What?” she manages to say, in the end.
Ben is staring at her with his big, pensive eyes, and trembling lips and there’s such a fear on the lines of his face her heart twists into her chest, but he doesn’t give in to that. He pushes a few strands of hair out of her forehead, and cradles her face with his hand, his thumb gently stroking her cheekbone, as he slowly, softly smiles at her.
“Marry me,” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. “I had a ring and a whole plan to ask you in a few weeks but- I love you, Rey. I love you so much. You made me feel so loved for the first time in my life and I’ll gladly spend my life trying to make you feel the same way, if you’ll let me”.
She doesn’t even have to think about it. Her mouth opens out of its own accord, and her lips utter the words even before she can truly grasp them. “Yes,” she says, through the tears she hadn’t even realized had started streaming down her face. “Yes, yes, yes”.
By her last yes, he’s crying too. It feels right right, in a way. She kisses his tears away, and he wipes them off her face, and they laugh and cry and cling to each other, and it’s the most beautiful night of her life.
He plants a kiss to her temple. “Wait, I have to give you your ring”.
She doesn’t stop laughing for a while.
*
“You know,” she starts, as she watches the soft glow of the lanterns dance on his skin, illuminating his face as they slowly twirl around the dancefloor. “You look devastatingly handsome today, Mr. Solo”.
Ben laughs and pulls her even closer, the hand at the small of her back a warm presence that she can feel even above all the layers of her dress. Her hand lingers on his chest, and she catches a glimpse of the gold band around her finger, shining softly as it catches the light of the lanterns.
She notices he notices it too, and she can feel the way his heart starts beating faster in her ribcage, a sound so loud she can feel it, underneath her fingertips. His eyes search her face, as if to make sense of her words, but there’s no trace of doubt in the back of his gaze. No self-deprecating chuckle, no silent shrug - just a genuine, happy laughter that is starting to become her favorite sound in the world.
“I know,” he replies, with a knowing smirk that sends her heart into chaos all over again. It beats fast against her ribcage too, and her lips curve almost out of their own accord in a smile, as she watches him blush, his cheeks red by now, but accept the compliment and own it as he never does.
It’s such a beautiful moment she barely register he’s still talking.
“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he continues, his voice suddenly more serious. The smirk disappears from his face and is replaced by a warm, awestruck smile as his eyes skim over her, as if to take her in all over again. He looks mesmerized - from the moment she has walked down the aisle, he’s been transfixed, as if he had just glimpsed heaven and it feels so solemn - so real, so terribly beautiful she can’t stop smiling. “I’m a very lucky man, Mrs. Solo”.
She can’t help but giggle, lacing her arms around his neck. They’ve been dancing for a while now, as the night starts creeping in and the lanterns are slowly lit up one by one, giving almost a fairytale-like quality to the garden all around them, and she has never felt so happy in her life - his hands at the small of her back, his eyes on her, that dumbstruck happiness on his face that probably reflects her own expression. It all feels terribly like home, as if all the pieces had finally been put together where they belong.
With the same smile she can seem to erase from her face, she raises to her tiptoes and pulls him down. “We’re both very lucky, love,” she tells him, and Ben - Ben doesn’t protest, but leans down to kiss her, slowly and tenderly, as the they dance surrounded by light and bliss and that burning, terrible happiness that shines all around them.
He smiles against her mouth, and her heart flutters in her chest as he whispers, right against her lips, “You’re stuck with me, now”.
It feels so easy to laugh. “Somehow,” she replies, threading her fingers through his hair. “I think I’ll be fine with it for the rest of my life”.