He understood that something was going on, something Rey wasn't willing to address herself. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Should he bring it up? Should he let it go, pretend none of it ever happened?

But then what?

They'd go through the motions until either he died, she left, or something else happened to make this tenuous equilibrium untenable. Him pretending he hadn't had those thoughts, and Rey pretending, poorly, that she hadn't heard them. Luke sighed. He was, numerically, an adult. He was a legendary figure in the galaxy. He was, currently, trying to forget all of that by being alone on an island but clearly that wasn't working.

He did not want to admit this out loud.

"Look," he said, pressing a hand to the bridge of his nose. "You're clearly uncomfortable. You're too polite to mention it but I know I make you uncomfortable. It's kind of you to try to save my feelings, but ... I promise you, it was a mistake that will not happen again."

His breath let out in a rush, a flush of adrenaline unbecoming to his age flooding his system as fight or flight absurdly tried to kick in, now that he was, almost, admitting what had happened the night before. She'd tell him he was disgusting, that she was trying to overlook his obvious inappropriateness, and they'd... what? Go back to gutting fish?