action;
[ He doesn't like this. Doesn't like seeing her like this, doesn't like knowing what she's told him, doesn't like the sinking suspicion that maybe this time he hasn't had worse (but now she has), doesn't like being in this place where he has no choice but to stay put and cope instead of getting into the Falcon and taking off.
No, actually he hates it. But he loves her.
She unwinds his arms easily, Han doesn't fight it and he doesn't pull them back. Just lets her do what she wants with them for the moment. ]
Yeah? How much longer? [ There it is, the forced lopsided grin and the loud whooping signal of let's talk about anything else for a while. Except he can't even keep that up, and moves to grab her hands and hold them a little too tightly, because he wants to make sure (again) (for the first of many times) this isn't another carbonite dream being particularly cruel to his mushy decaying mind. ]