gravity → POE DAMERON ✓

n i n e t e e n

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉
—𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯—

THERE WAS A sharp noise that pounded against the door to Bexley's assigned medical room. The blonde woman felt uncomfortable as she slowly opened her eyes, staring up at the bright lights in the ceiling that burned when she looked for too long. Blinking, Bexley jumps at the sound of another thump— but it was louder this time. She found herself curious over something else, though; her body no longer hurt when she stretched out. Glancing down to her gown-covered body, she realizes that there are no longer bruises and gashes on her skin. In fact, there was no sign of a scar at all, which led her to believe maybe she had hallucinated the whole situation.

But she wouldn't take the time to celebrate— as far as she knew, she was still trapped in the First Order ship, under the close surveillance of Ben Solo himself. His threats were anything but empty, especially after she saw what he was capable of. The proof of her mother's death was more than enough to show that. With another steady, solid blow to the outside of the door, it swung open and smashed against the wall behind it. The Terris woman tended up, gripping the bed sheets beside her.

But the sight ahead of her wasn't something she'd ever expect— or someone. In fact, that very moment, she lost her breath. Swallowing back the urge to cry out, Bexley sits up on the white medical bed, her eyes focusing in on those of the raven-haired man just ahead of her. He moves forward, his lips parting as he concentrates on all of her features; something he missed so dearly.

"Poe?" Bexley's voice cracks in her throat, almost as if she hadn't talked in days. We're her eyes deceiving her? Was this another one of her daydreams?

"Are you okay?" He asks immediately, taking her small hand in his and examining her arms. "I assume they fixed you up for tonight. Can you walk?"

"I can't believe you're here," she chokes out, tears coming to her eyes. "I—I thought I was going to die here."

"Don't cry, sweetheart," Poe says, placing a firm hand on her cold cheek. "We need to get you the hell out of here before they can catch us. We'll talk afterwards, okay?"

With steady hands, he helped the blonde to her shaky feet. For a short moment, Bexley lost her balance and almost fell to the floor. But with precision and carefulness, Poe supported her, and placed his arm around her waist. "Do you need me to carry you?"

"No, I'll be fine— just a bit dizzy, is all." Bexley dismisses him, shaking the nauseous feeling away. "Let's get out of here."

With a stiff nod, he moves forward, still keeping her upright while being cautious towards the possible guards outside the room. Poe glances out the door and down the hall, his free hand on the blaster in his belt. To his utter relief, there's no one around— so he leads Bexley out of the room, hiding her behind him. He places a knife in her hand with a subtle statement.