A/N: Warning: main character death
Death can't stifle love; it lives on, buried deep in the heart and constantly unearthed by memories or objects or regrets. When Rey dies, sacrificing herself to bring down Palpatine and the First Order, Poe's whole world is thrown off-kilter. Colours dull to grey, music descends to screeching, and food breaks apart to ash.
But amidst it all, the love remains. It lurks in the flashes of gut-wrenching grief whenever he thinks of all the things she'll never get to experience. It loiters in the fondness that drifts in on the breeze over every ocean and meadow, reminding him of her joy at seeing new places and meeting new people. It lingers in his sad smiles as former slaves and oppressed families tell him how grateful they are for what the Resistance did and he tells them all about her, beautiful and vibrant and brave.
Years ago, when he asked her to move in with him, she told him she was a hard person to live with. Back then, she was convinced that her bad habits would push him away eventually, and that it would be better to keep some distance. He assured her that no amount of time together would ever be enough, and as the months passed, he relished the way she slowly relaxed as she accepted that he was right.
It's ironic in the worst way. He could have spent a lifetime with her and loved her as deeply on his deathbed as he did at the beginning. Now, he's going to spend a lifetime without her, and he's still going to love her as deeply on his deathbed as he did at the beginning.
A/N: Prompt: 'I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday.' from The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket