When Rey turned to look at him, she would catch him with a strangely unguarded expression on his face: somewhere between awe and confusion, between longing and pain. When he realised that she was looking at him, a heat spread under his cheeks as he quickly schooled his expression.

It was beautiful. It was probably the most beautiful thing he’d seen, down here, beyond Finn himself. He hadn’t actually expected it to work. He’d wanted to encourage it, but he had expected it to be too hard, to not take—

He could feel his heart racing as if he were mortal, and the flush spread.

“He’ll love it,” he said quickly. As if to deflect from his own emotional response. “... It’s beautiful.”