For the micro story - 1. don’t leave. :)
“I don’t have a choice.” He’s terse, staring off to the horizon, exile and the death of hope.
“There’s always a choice.” The words are bitter, and she sees him wince.
“Would you ask me to stay?” he says, faces her with a challenge in his eyes, something desperate and yearning and hard-edged all at once. “Is that what you’re asking, Rey?”
His hand is warm in hers as she suddenly grasps it, and he flinches but does not pull away.
“Don’t leave,” she says, and it’s stronger than she feels, stronger than this thing between them, stronger than the hope that it could ever be…
“…alright.” He doesn’t move when her arms come around him, doesn’t react when she sighs, but she feels it, there at the back of her mind, soft, reverent, faint.
I never could have imagined you’d want me to stay.