Three weeks; that was the time Rey and Ren had left together; after that, the attack— and it would be their last, and maybe even their end. The First Order was winning, but that didn't mean everybody survived. Rey and Kylo knew this, all too well.

Every minute was precious. And with so much— everything— at stake, twenty one days didn't seem that long at all. But it was all Rey and Ren had left; they wouldn't waste it.

They were in the command suite, Rey checking the screens and pressing scattered buttons, and Kylo lurking silently in the corner, waiting. They were part of the First Order, after all (even if they were just pretending), and work had to be done. But Rey and Kylo made time for each other, even if it was just a sliver of meeting.

Rey spoke, and paused to look at Kylo, hoping to observe his reaction, however slight. "People usually make promises around now, don't they?" she said.

He opened his eyes and found Rey almost immediately, but his features didn't traverse; he had spent too many years closed off to just feel so easily.

"What kinds of promises?"

Rey shrugged, her gaze unfocused. "To come back for each other, to not die. Those kinds of promises."

Kylo almost laughed at this. Almost.

"But what's the point? Promises won't stop a bullet to the heart. Promises won't prevent an explosion from blowing you to fragments."

Rey crossed her arms, sitting back in her chair and standing from the monitor to face Kylo, and maybe stab him a few times with her piercing gaze.

"I know," she deadpanned. "I know it doesn't matter. I was just thinking..."

"— Dreaming," Kylo quietly corrected. Rey stiffened at the sound of such an unfamiliar term, and her surprise quickly turned into conflict.

Slowly, she turned and approached Ben with slow, barely controlled steps. By the time she reached his chair and leaned down to his lips, Kylo could see just how funeral her eyes were. And how dark her lips looked.

"Maybe I was dreaming," Rey whispered into his ear, so very close, intimate. "… But does it really matter?"

Kylo felt suspended, frozen in place, too focused on his escaping thoughts to even notice Rey hovering over him. "… No," he stumbled, barely forming words, "It doesn't."

"Exactly," Rey smiled, even though there was nothing to smile about, and placed her hand on Kylo's arm, her knee on his leg, and leaned down, into a soft kiss.

It was a pleasant distraction.

Two hours later, and Kylo and Rey were finished. Two hours of mundane tasks, unimportant things that actually were important, and they were done.

They wandered through the corridors, but Rey caught Kylo before they got any farther, and in the hallways they stayed. He captured her smaller hand in his, and Rey pulled him into the shadows and down to her lips, the final destination. He doesn't try to stop it— why should he? The time they have together was ending soon, they had to take advantage of it now, or it would slip out of their fingertips and never be seen from again.

And Rey was better now, too; she did not look half as empty, or pallid, and she felt more alive than ever. There was a dance in her step, and when she ran her hands over Kylo there was life in her touch.

Maybe Rey knew that time was ending, and letting herself love for once. Because, after that, who knew what might be left of them— if anything at all.

Time passed Rey and Ren unnoticeably, and suddenly it was nighttime and the small window in Rey's room shone with darkness. They were resting on her bed, Kylo sitting against the wall, and Rey rocking gently in the center. She had discarded formal wear a long time ago, wearing a simple tunic instead. Kylo had taken off his cloak, nothing else.

"Three more weeks," Rey sighed and broke the silence, "… What are we going to do?"

Kylo thought about this for a second, his mind wandering too much to think properly.

… What were they going to do?

"Anything you'd like," he muttered, and meant it.

Rey smiled faintly and slithered closer, so she could wrap her arms around Kylo's slim waist, her fingertips meeting on the other side and locking. He returned the favor and pulled her close, pulled her warm.

"Let's go somewhere," Rey whispered carefully.

"Where?"

"Anywhere."

Kylo nodded his head slowly in agreement before dipping down to kiss Rey again. His eyes were closed; Rey's weren't. But when Kylo opened them again and held Rey's gaze, he saw stars and it was beautiful.

It was times like this where they understood each other perfectly, and not a single word was needed. They simply opened their eyes and saw, saw each other, saw every last feeling, tucked away. They found what was inside, waiting;

The heart.

"Would you go the Resistance?" Rey asked, much, much later. "With me?" It was midnight and they should've been asleep, only they weren't.

All day they had been speaking of going on a trip, but her words still caught Kylo off-guard, pulling him out of his sweet trance and into the real world (the cruel world).

That familiar feeling of an edge swept over Ren, from the moment he heard the word Resistance.

"To join?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as uncertain as he felt.

"No," Rey shook her head, "… To end."

Kylo Ren stared blankly at Rey, and underneath him the ground was crumbling and there was nothing left to stand on. Slowly, he nodded in agreement, even though he couldn't comprehend.

All he could think of was that his mother, the mother he had made a widow, was there, waiting. Condemning him, from all that distance away, after all that time.

"There's nothing for me there," Kylo whispered, his voice wavering, lying.

"There's an opportunity for a goodbye," Rey said, tracing her fingers over Kylo's scar, silently reminding him of everything he had left behind, and of who he was, now.

He wasn't Ben Solo, not anymore. That boy had died a long time ago.

"… Why? Why should I go?" Ben stammered in a sharp tone. He wasn't angry, just confused. And he knew exactly why he needed to go to the Resistance, but he didn't want to, he couldn't.

Rey closed her eyes, and let out a shaking breath.

"Leia. She's dying."

Kylo Ren and Rey, inside their ship, were safe, alone, and with each other. Nobody there to interrupt, just them, Rey and Ren, in their own little broken world.

"… Why?" Kylo mumbled out loud, too deep in thought to notice he had spoken. Rey raised her head and looked up questioningly, and made Kylo realize he should probably elaborate.

"Why the Resistance, of all places?" Kylo knew well enough why he needed to go, but why Rey? "We have the entire galaxy in our grasp," he added, and it was true. They could go anywhere, everywhere.

Rey nodded in agreement. "I know," she said. "But I need this. And… so do you."

How right she was.

Rey opened her mouth to continue, but stopped, something clearly weighing her down, pressing her throat closed. Her voice came out raspy, cracked. "I have… people there I left behind."

"Why did you leave them behind?" Kylo asked. He had never thought to ask this, in all the time he had known Rey, spoken to her, questioned her. But he had never thought to ask her the one simple question of why she had left; it hadn't seemed important at the time. Now, it held all the importance in the world.

"Why indeed…" Rey mused, as if she did not know herself. She struggled to find words, but spoke anyways. "I just felt… felt so… trapped."

Kylo was silent, willing Rey to continue, because he knew she had so much more to say. She complied, turning her full attention away from the ship's controls and to Ben.

"The Jedi are painted as this path of ultimate good, the road to salvation. But… there's no place for weakness, for our sins… for humanity, however imperfect it is."

Rey smiled cynically, laughing at a joke only she understood. Only it wasn't a joke, it was a tragedy, and it wasn't funny at all.

"… No place for me," she breathed. And Rey looked so very sad, so deserted, that Kylo wondered if he was there at all, and not just a ghost in the background.

"… So you left," he said, because he had to say something, to prove that he was still alive.

"So I left," Rey repeated, but she wasn't actually there. She was far, far away, flying with the stars, daydreaming herself into the sky.

Kylo, the silent observer, spoke a quiet question.

"Did you find it? Your place?"

A minute of thought, and Rey shook her head, slowly, hiding her hands in her lap because they were shaking. "I wasn't born with a place, I was born a scavenger. I had to make my own place in this world."

"You made yourself a home."

"It doesn't feel like a home."

Because wasn't a home, but a prison Rey had built from the blood of the world she had killed. And the prison she had built, it was for herself, and the keys, they had been thrown away a long time ago.

"Do you regret it?" Kylo Ren was asking if she regretted leaving, throwing everything away and stepping into a world with nothing for her. Freedom really was the most bitter sensation, Kylo mused. And yet Rey craved it, he craved it, and maybe every single person in the universe did. Because without it, there was nothing, you were nothing.

"Not anymore," Rey sighed, and meant it. There was no room for regrets, not anymore.

Rey dared look at Kylo, and he always, always looked back. Her eyes were clear and Kylo could see right to the very end. And he knew; she wasn't lying.

Having nothing left to say, nothing at all, Kylo dared wrap an arm around Rey, and she looked up at him, asking for a touch, for a distraction. So Kylo leaned down, and pressed his lips to Rey's jawline, faintly.

Rey sighed, and her hand found Kylo's face, and guided his mouth down to hers and they met. A kiss was born, and neither of them had to say another word.

Until they arrived, and then everything changed.