Time stopped.

On the edge of a cliff, Luke stood, staring at an extremely powerful and entirely untrained force of nature, less than half his age, under the unfortunate delusion that the dreams that had caused him to wake with more ardor than he'd felt in decades were hers. It was almost worse, in his mind, knowing that she blamed herself. That he'd warped her mind enough that she'd internalized his gross desires and thought them her own. It made him feel sick to his stomach, what he'd done to her just by showing her the wonders of the Force. That his powers were both too great, and too rusty, for him to be trusted with other beings.

"Oh, Rey," he breathed sadly, the words snatched away by the wind. "You're wrong. I can, and I did. It was wrong of me, unconscious, but that's no excuse. The link we shared... I've gone so long without opening that door, I didn't realize I had not shut it. What you saw... I should never have dreamed, let alone let you see. I betrayed your trust. It was unintentional, but I did it. And I... I'm sorry."