After the battle on Crait, Rey and her friends in the Resistance seek to find a new base as they continue their fight against the First Order.
Meanwhile, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren's past comes back to haunt him, and there's only one person in the gal...
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There was a hard, wrenching pull at the insides of Rey's stomach. A tug at her intestines and organs so powerfully demanding that it reminded her of the monthly pains she received for simply being a woman. Whatever this kind of pull came from, it obviously was no instinct, not some sense of intuition. This was a loud, real, hard ball of emotions pounding against her muscles. They called on her. They were alive and fighting against her body to come forth to where she was being beckoned.
It was all too surreal that she thought she might actually felt fingers latch on to her sleeve and tug her forward.
Rey had never felt this much pain from the connection before. Though she may want to complain, she rather feel it than what happened last night, because only a moment later and the pull lifted.
This feeling stirred her unconscious body to roll around the cold, filthy floor until she woke up, finding herself startled in her sleep. She jumped off the ground, realizing she was there to begin with before she sat up and felt rust in her bones and a pounding in her head.
Whispers began to gnaw at both of her ears, picking at the back of her neck like a thin, cold gust of wind. They urged her on to answer the call. Seems like the pull wasn't completely gone.
She felt transparent in a way she was exposed but yet, she felt a sense of yearning for something she couldn't have, at least, not physically.
Before Rey would slow herself into answering the call, she pushed herself off the ground, wobbly limbs testing their strength as she barely managed to stand on two feet. She placed her palm over her mouth, wiping a bit of gooey vomit on the right corner of her mouth from when she puked in the trash bin.
Yeah, that still happened. . .
Loose strands of hair cascaded over her face from her braid. Bits of hair poked out everywhere from her hairdo, causing her to appear deranged even though her eyes were usually the feature that made her appear so. If she had a mirror she'd probably be slightly disgusted, but not surprised by her appearance. Living on a desert planet by yourself meant enduring less opportunities to work on your appearance for the liking of others. She had come to terms with it. . .until him.
Rey took a step to her bed before she was attacked with even more whispers, but this time they were violent. They came in quick chirps, rasping her name again and again and again.
Rey.
Rey.
Rey.
Her stomach was in knots, preparing itself for a second wave of a game of tug and war that didn't include giving her a chance to grab a hold on the rope.
