Chapter 11 of Conscience and Unconsciousness by PontMercy44

Ben was quiet, hands in his lap in between bites of chicken cacciatore. Leia kept looking at him as if she wasn’t quite sure he was real. Han’s joke’s kept falling flat.

Perhaps this had been a terrible mistake, Rey thought. She was trying to fit Ben into a mold he simply wasn’t made from. She was trying to make him into fantasy Ben. Real Ben didn’t have dinner on Sundays in his parent’s dining room.