[ The dirt and grime of their shared labor has drawn out the haunted shadows in her face that make it look starkly different from the bright, full, rounded glow of before, as if separating her experiences here into halves—before murder and after. When he meets her gaze, agate eyes dodge him slightly, fixing on his jawline rather than his eyes, skirting just slightly, barely noticeable, as he gets up to set about his task.
She doesn't stop him from taking it upon himself because it makes her feel somehow less culpable for the fact, as though dumping the remains of the corpse into the hole is different or beyond a line when compared to helping him dig the ditch or ignite the body or drag it here. When he calls, begrudgingly, uncomfortably, for aid, she hesitates—in equal part to avoid the inevitability of losing that attempted distance, and to allow him to linger in the discomfort of the liminal space between request and acceptance. He could use with more discomfort.
Then, rather than answer, she stands and goes to aid him, leveraging the frail and hollow weight, if it can even be called that anymore, of the charred remains with Kylo to place them into the ground. The misshapen black mass is unrecognizable now, hardly humanoid. Rey lifts the door to shake the rest of his ashes into the pit, leaning on the heavy metal to stare down into the makeshift grave.
She looks to Kylo then, wondering briefly when she dropped the Ren, and nods to him, as if some tacit acceptance of their mutual culpability. She drops the door and begins to kick the dirt back in. ]
it is!!! also why can't civil service suit our schedules like "yes hello i'd like to volunteer"
She doesn't stop him from taking it upon himself because it makes her feel somehow less culpable for the fact, as though dumping the remains of the corpse into the hole is different or beyond a line when compared to helping him dig the ditch or ignite the body or drag it here. When he calls, begrudgingly, uncomfortably, for aid, she hesitates—in equal part to avoid the inevitability of losing that attempted distance, and to allow him to linger in the discomfort of the liminal space between request and acceptance. He could use with more discomfort.
Then, rather than answer, she stands and goes to aid him, leveraging the frail and hollow weight, if it can even be called that anymore, of the charred remains with Kylo to place them into the ground. The misshapen black mass is unrecognizable now, hardly humanoid. Rey lifts the door to shake the rest of his ashes into the pit, leaning on the heavy metal to stare down into the makeshift grave.
She looks to Kylo then, wondering briefly when she dropped the Ren, and nods to him, as if some tacit acceptance of their mutual culpability. She drops the door and begins to kick the dirt back in. ]