“What’s the longest your hair has ever been?” Poe asks softly in the safe quiet of the room, leaned back against a wall. His hands are in Finn’s hair, who rests his head in his lap, and Poe can’t help but wonder what Finn would look like with big, dark curls.
Finn’s eyes don’t open, but his forehead creases a little. “Uh,” he pauses for a moment. “This, I think. The First Order doesn’t allow their troops to have long, flowing locks, but I guess you Resistance boys wouldn’t know about that.” There’s a tiny smirk on his lips, and Poe smiles back even though Finn can’t see.
“You’re one of those Resistance boys now.”
Finn’s forehead smooths and his smirk spreads to a toothy grin. He cracks one eye open to look at Poe. “Yeah, I guess I am.”