She is the sunshine, she is the light.

A scavenger that rose out of the dust of nothing to become everything the Resistance needed.

When all hope was extinguished on Crait in their bleakest hour, she personified hope. Luke Skywalker's final apprentice, the true last Jedi.

Poe remembered feeling his breath literally being sucked out of him as he urged his most replayed memory through his mind again.

The group, desperately running down forgotten and forsaken tunnels coming quickly to a wall of frozen rocks. There was no escape. Only certain, impending blast fire from the First Order once Luke Skywalker could no longer buy them time.

Poe Dameron was always the first to charge into battle, the first to pull the trigger, the first to ecstatically sign himself up for whatever crazy mission they had. Poe relished in the whispers he heard about himself on base, "Hot Damn-eron". He had nothing else to live for anyways except the hope that his life would mean something along the struggle. If he couldn't live to see peace, he at least wanted to be remembered as a hero.

He crumbled on the floor, exhaling desperation and loss. He led them to a dead end.

No one would blame him, no one else could have stirred the group to even make the last run except him. He couldn't even die the hero he wanted to be.

Pebbles on the ground started to shake, then levitate. Strings of light pierced through. Suddenly, the wall broke, and there, in the midst of the smoke, snow and rubble, she stood. Hesitant, surprised, yet unwavering.

Poe's eyes flickered open, immediately focusing on the girl with chestnut hair across the Millennium Falcon. It had been close to three days since they escaped, since they first officially met, and he stupidly couldn't come up with anything suaver when she introduced herself as Rey besides a slick, "I know".

He buried his dark brown locks in his hands resting on his knees, wallowing in self-deprecation. He was everyone's flyboy, the straight shooter that should be able to make any girl's knees weak just by a glance towards their way.

If she was like anyone else, she would have already been cozying up to him already, and he would be retelling battle stories that he kept in his pocket, specifically when he was feeling an itch to get lucky.

But she wasn't like everyone else. Hell, he knew the moment he laid eyes on her that he was officially screwed.

Her hazel eyes caught his staring at her, his mouth went dry as he tried to swallow. His adam's apple seemed to stop working as his breath got caught in his throat as she worked her way across towards him, smiling. He felt a tremor race down his spine as her footsteps neared.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. His favorite memory hit auto play in his mind.

Rocks levitated around her, being suspended in a light blue halo. Her small, gentle hand stretched and straining. He involuntarily reached out to her, as if she was beckoning him to join her. He'd follow her anywhere.

She was everything. Even her name was perfect. He panicked and hungrily drunk in her sway out of he lids of his hooded eyes. How could he explain his staring?

He gulped.

Should he just go for it like he always did?

Who was he kidding, she'd slice him in half with that lightsaber.

Fuck, even that sounded like a fitting end for him. He quickly fantasized fighting side by side her, energy pulsating, adrenaline running high, suddenly grabbing her out of harm's way and crushing her to hi-

"Hi Poe", she said. Why did his brain stop working?

"Uh…Hey, hi Rey", he replied. He groaned. All his previous conquests laughed at him.

"You look tired, you should get some rest," she said, lightly patting him on his shoulder, half smiling and giving him a look of light concern.

He squeezed his eyes tight and mentally slapped himself. He ignored the fluttering, tingly feeling he got.

"Tell me about yourself, Miss Mysterious," he finally mustered, pushing himself backwards into a lazy sprawl, willing himself to regain any remnants of that "cool composure" he reputed.

He was threatening to throw up his heart, which was thumping in his throat at his point.

Days continued to be counted as the rag-tag group jumped from desolate place to abandoned planet, one after another.

He finally settled into a comfortable state of constant, yet manageable giddiness around her. She was like sunlight, the group basked in her warmth and welcoming light.

So he knew, that behind every smile that she radiated, every laugh that she filled the room with, was coupled with an occasional backwards glance towards nowhere.

At first, he hoped that her momentary glances were her eyes searching the room for him. Whenever they locked eyes, he saw comradery, hope, and friendship.

He was the best pilot they had to offer, he was a fighter, he was a survivor, he was a rebellion front gunner.

But he knew because he memorized everything down to her freckled nose and long eyelashes, that those eyes of sunlight, where not meant for him. They cast sadness and solemn affection towards the direction of the vast void of space.

How he wished he could eclipse it all with his own longing.