The dark room closes in around Rey as she stares sightlessly up at the ceiling. She shouldn't feel so alone and flat. Since childhood, she's dreamt of travelling the galaxy to discover far-off people and places. Gorgeous green grass, sparkling sapphire seas, majestic mountains, and vast valleys… it's all even more beautiful than she imagined. The little glimpses she saw of those things on Jakku did nothing to prepare her for the reality.
And the work she's doing is all for a good cause, too. She's seeking out people who are Force sensitive and inviting them to join her fledgling academy. Most of them have refused, some due to distrusting the Jedi and others simply not wanting to leave their families. But for every three who turn her down, there's one whose face lights up at the prospect, emotions swirling across their expressions like an aurora.
Yet she's never felt so lonely. As a child, she longed for more — for her parents, for a purpose — but she didn't know what it's like to actually have it. Now she does, and the pain stings all the worse because of it.
Poe. She twirls the ring on her finger. It's a promise, a reminder, and the only thing she has of him with her. Deep in his own work with the Resistance, Poe is half a galaxy away, reachable only by hologram. Seeing his face via projection isn't the same as having him here to share meals with or sleep next to at night.
Rey will never let these thoughts leave this room. If she tells Poe how much she misses him, it'll make the distance harder for him, and if she tells anyone else, she'll sound like some child who can't cope on her own.
It won't be long, she tells herself. One more month, then you'll be back home again.
She just needs to keep pushing forward until then.
A/N: Prompt: 'I write mostly on hotel paper, knowing that my thoughts will never leave this room.' from Hotel Paper by Michelle Branch