Yet. Rey hated that that single word was a very real threat. If Luke kicked her out and turned his back on her, it would hurt on a personal level, yes. But beyond that, it would be a much harsher loss for everyone else she knew. It would be the loss of hope, and the fate of the Resistance hinged on hope.

She couldn't disappoint Luke. Too much relied on her learning as much as she could from him before getting him back to General Organa. For the time being, Rey would have to make sure to stay in line.

Even as she came to that conclusion, she hesitated at Luke's question. So he had felt her. Of course he had. Even thinking about playing innocent had been monumentally stupid.

"I... don't know," she admitted, shaking her head and opting for total honesty. "A struggle, of some sort. Conflict."

Shame. Fear. Regret. But it didn't feel right to say so quite so blatantly. She pressed her lips together, looking him in the eye and trying to get a sense of how she should best phrase it.

"There's something you want, but you don't want it at the same time. Or you're trying not to want it. I couldn't parse it out...."

Blinking, she added, "Not that I was trying to! I just... overreached. I'm sorry. I won't do it again, not without your permission."