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Title: Rose Wine
Author: H. Savinien
Rating: PG-ish
Pairing: None explicit
Disclaimer: Star Wars: The Last Jedi belongs to Disney, the Lucas Estate, etc., not me.
Warnings: Alcohol use.
Word count: 330
Summary: Rose has had too much to drink.
***
Rose staggered against the bulkhead, gave up and leaned against it for a moment. “Tipsy,” she muttered. There had been a bottle of sweet wine and Poe hadn’t liked it, and Finn was too busy guzzling bluemilk to cut the spice of the curry to help, and Rey refused alcohol out of general paranoia. So she’d drunk all of it and hoped they didn’t need a mechanic until tomorrow because she could walk mostly, but didn’t trust herself to fix anything more complicated than a crooked collar. One of the porgs that had adopted Chewbacca yelled at her reproachfully when she almost stepped on it.
“Sorry,” she told it. “Can’t help it. Feet too compilated. Complicated.”
Finn and Poe had bunked in with Rey and she would remember where that was eventually. The Millennium Falcon just wasn’t that big.
“My sister,” she sang under her breath, “my sister. She went to the stars.
She went to the stars and she put on their light.
My sister lit up the sky for us.
My sister lit up the stars.”
That was a song that made Poe cry for all the lost pilots. Sometimes she didn’t care. Sometimes she wanted him to cry.
Right now she wanted to find Finn and Rey and even Poe and curl in a ball under the warm blanket and be warm and floating like a bacta tank without the smell and taste.
“She lit up the stars and she loved me, love for her goes into the light.”
Then there was the right corner, finally, she wasn’t going in circles. Rey’s bunk, with Finn’s boots lined up neatly outside it. Rose poked hopefully at the entrypad until it opened, then tipped inside, and ended up against Finn’s chest, and hiccuped, and buried her wet face against his shoulder. He made a distressed noise.
“Sorry,” she sighed. “Sad drunk.”
Rey petted her shoulder. “Bed.”
“Yes,” Rose agreed. She followed Rey’s pulling hand. “Bed.”
Author: H. Savinien
Rating: PG-ish
Pairing: None explicit
Disclaimer: Star Wars: The Last Jedi belongs to Disney, the Lucas Estate, etc., not me.
Warnings: Alcohol use.
Word count: 330
Summary: Rose has had too much to drink.
***
Rose staggered against the bulkhead, gave up and leaned against it for a moment. “Tipsy,” she muttered. There had been a bottle of sweet wine and Poe hadn’t liked it, and Finn was too busy guzzling bluemilk to cut the spice of the curry to help, and Rey refused alcohol out of general paranoia. So she’d drunk all of it and hoped they didn’t need a mechanic until tomorrow because she could walk mostly, but didn’t trust herself to fix anything more complicated than a crooked collar. One of the porgs that had adopted Chewbacca yelled at her reproachfully when she almost stepped on it.
“Sorry,” she told it. “Can’t help it. Feet too compilated. Complicated.”
Finn and Poe had bunked in with Rey and she would remember where that was eventually. The Millennium Falcon just wasn’t that big.
“My sister,” she sang under her breath, “my sister. She went to the stars.
She went to the stars and she put on their light.
My sister lit up the sky for us.
My sister lit up the stars.”
That was a song that made Poe cry for all the lost pilots. Sometimes she didn’t care. Sometimes she wanted him to cry.
Right now she wanted to find Finn and Rey and even Poe and curl in a ball under the warm blanket and be warm and floating like a bacta tank without the smell and taste.
“She lit up the stars and she loved me, love for her goes into the light.”
Then there was the right corner, finally, she wasn’t going in circles. Rey’s bunk, with Finn’s boots lined up neatly outside it. Rose poked hopefully at the entrypad until it opened, then tipped inside, and ended up against Finn’s chest, and hiccuped, and buried her wet face against his shoulder. He made a distressed noise.
“Sorry,” she sighed. “Sad drunk.”
Rey petted her shoulder. “Bed.”
“Yes,” Rose agreed. She followed Rey’s pulling hand. “Bed.”
