He usually enjoyed the daily wait to discover what kind of mood Rey was in.
After two years he still hadn't figured out a reliable way to predict her. One day she would be in a righteous mood, using their involuntary time together to expound upon all of the reasons why the First Order needed to fall; as if they hadn't had the exact same conversation dozens of times already. The next day she would be in a curious mood, asking him question after question about the Force, or his Destroyer, or his childhood - he hated that last one, but he answered her questions truthfully and succinctly, because she seemed to like it.
Occasionally she would be in a belligerent mood, like she had been yesterday, and then there was absolutely nothing he could say that could avoid an argument, because for whatever reason she wanted to argue with him. It was exhausting, but that was her, and so he accepted it and deflected her barbs with practiced ease.
The day after an argument was the most unpredictable of all. Sometimes she would be exceedingly polite, making a point to compliment him on some small thing. He liked that. Sometimes she would be sullen and quiet, fidgeting with her clothes uncomfortably until he made an unrelated quip to reassure her that they were okay, and then she'd smile at him. He liked that, too.
A sudden shiver of warmth ran through him and he knew that she was behind him.
"Finally!" she said, and his stomach flipped because this was his favourite mood, and completely unexpected today.
He rearranged his grin into a neutral expression before turning to face her.
She was sitting cross-legged on his bed (at least she appeared to be; he had no idea what she was actually sitting on), and her posture was relaxed enough to reveal that she had been sitting still for some time. Waiting. For him.
"I've been annoyed all day," she began. "Sit down."
He did.
This Rey looked at him differently to all the others. She was angry, sometimes to ferocious degrees, but it was never directed at him. This Rey came to him with her problems and used him as a sounding board to mull them over in her mind. She was indignant, and a bit of a gossip. She told him more about her so-called friends in the Resistance than he had ever wanted to know, trying to convince him that he 'would not believe' the ridiculous things they did and said at times. Sometimes she would use her irritation as a cover, complaining at length about social rituals that she didn't understand until he gently interrupted her to explain.
He couldn't have cared less about the daily trials and dramas of the rebels, but the fact that she came to him to complain about it all made his stomach churn in a warm, pleasant way.
Rey took a deep breath in preparation. "Okay, you will not believe this!"
She began to describe, in great and over-exaggerated detail, the argument that they had the day before. This was new. Ben had no idea how to react.
"And you will never guess what this jerk said next!"
"Was it something like 'I am not a committee'?" He cut her off.
Rey nodded fervently. "Yes! He said exactly that! Is that not the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard?!" She held up her hands as if she actually expected him to commiserate with her, and he had a sudden genuine fear for her sanity.
"Rey…"
"You're right, it's completely outrageous," she continued, as if she hadn't heard him. "And then he-"
"Rey," he stated firmly. "That is the conversation I had with you yesterday."
She deflated just a little. "Well, yes."
"I am me."
"That's true."
"You are complaining to me about myself."
"Well… who else would I complain about you to?" She began to withdraw from him, and he felt a pang in his chest as he realised that it hadn't occurred to her that he wouldn't let her do this. Somewhere along the line she had developed complete faith that he would accept her every mood.
So he decided he'd allow her to tear him to shreds. Of course he would.
"So, you were saying this guy was a jerk?" he prompted. Something was twinkling at the back of his mind, some instinct that he had, telling him to take a chance he had tried to convince himself he didn't want to take. The thought expanded rapidly until it was impossible to ignore.
She perked up, nodding vigorously. "Completely!"
"I think you like him," he blurted out, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth, because this wasn't part of their routine.
"And I- wait, what?"
He had no choice but to commit to it. "I'm just saying, it sounds as if you like him. You've clearly been thinking about him all day. And why wouldn't you? He sounds very reasonable. Highly intelligent. And I bet he has an awesome lightsaber."
He had hoped that she would just laugh him off and move on, but she was unpredictable, as always.
"I'll admit that his lightsaber is pretty cool. I've touched it, you know." She leaned back on her hands in a posture that was so relaxed it completely dominated the room and his senses.
Rey smirked at him, and Ben fought to control his breathing, because this mood was completely new and exhilarating.
His mouth was suddenly dry and sticky, and he congratulated himself on the even tone he produced in spite of it. "You should probably let him touch yours, then. It's only polite."
Her smirk grew as she cocked her head to one side. "Oh, I have. He knew exactly what to do with it, too."
Ben's mind scrambled for a response. He was desperate not to drop the exchange, but a thick fog was penetrating his thoughts and making his tongue feel fat and clumsy in his mouth.
Rey watched him for a few seconds, still looking completely at ease. When he failed to come up with a substantial reply her smirk softened into a sweet smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle.
"Maybe I like him just a little bit," she admitted softly.
He blinked, and she was gone.