Finn stared up at him, a slow dawning horror coming over his features as his shoulders slowly fell. This whole time, Poe's heart was nowhere near the right place. There hadn't been a miscommunication or misunderstanding. Poe knew exactly what he was doing.

His eyes looked away, flicking over the floor and control panel and chair, trying to breathe. This realization had become a weight inside him, worse than the dread and fear had been. He had to squeeze his hand into a tight fist to keep from shaking.

It wasn't like he was a stranger to abuse. The First Order had just largely been strangers, masked beings that he hated just as much as they hated him. Or, rather, didn't care one way or the other. This was so different. This was Poe.

He looked back up to him, trying to find him again. "Did you like it? When he started doing this to you, did you want it like you think I want it?"