For a long moment Kyle was unreadable, and doubt creeped up Freya’s spine. Just as quickly, though, she dismissed it. Her impetuous gesture carried an unexpected amount of weight in this space between giving and receiving, but she felt confident that he would accept it despite her flash of insecurity. Other fears idled in the back of her mind, always. Rejection wasn’t one of them. He’d taken every step with her so far. Why would he stop now?
Still, this one was... difficult for him. She could sense that much, but she kept a respectful distance rather than try to understand the barely contained conflict she felt through the Force. It’s what she would’ve wanted, after all, if their roles were reversed. While she appreciated the insight their bond gave her into Kyle beyond the superficial, some things were not meant to be shared. Some things were best worked through alone. As curious as she always was, intruding wasn't really her style, and she could be patient when she wanted to be. Whatever feelings he was sorting through now, she'd wait for him to meet her on the other side.
It wasn’t a long wait, in the end. He took the book, and in the process his fingers brushed hers, giving her heart a peculiar jolt. She should have expected it by now, that rush of instant connection, but she never did. Even the briefest touch (gloved or otherwise) still caught her by surprise.
As her smile briefly widened, a breathless sound escaped her throat – close to a laugh, but not quite. Half pleased that he’d accepted her gift, and half… something else. Something undoubtedly related to the ghost of a touch, an unintentional reminder of others that lasted until long after sleep overtook her. Too late Freya thought that a gift was supposed to be simple. But nothing between the two of them was simple, and she didn’t have to decipher the visions the Force had tried to show her once to know that nothing ever would be. Yet an unmistakeable feeling settled in her at the sight of his deep brown eyes, so brown they were nearly black, so black she could see her own reflection in them. A feeling of rightness.
That was better than simplicity.
“You’re welcome.” Her smile transformed into something much softer, with no attempt to diminish this exchange as anything less meaningful than what it was. It was tempting, of course, to say something clever and let the intensity of the moment fade away, but that was the last thing Freya wanted. She couldn’t remember the last time an action so instinctive had made her feel so... light. Like all of her other worries lifted from her shoulders and vanished, at least for the moment. It was a feeling she remembered from easier times, when closeness to others came naturally. Strange how it took so much effort and at the same time almost none at all to achieve the same thing with Kyle. Or not so strange, maybe.
Her brow lifted in surprise at his response, and she said without thinking, “Yes, you do.”
Then her brain caught up with her mouth. Closer to flustered than frustrated, she looked away and bit her bottom lip. What the hell did that mean? Of course he didn't have a gift for her, or probably the means to get one for her before they went their separate ways. Part of her suspected that he only traveled with his lightsaber and didn't even carry a wallet. Not that she wanted a gift anyway, because... ah.
The answer came to her quickly then, in the time it took for her to push a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. “I mean, you did,” she amended, tilting her head and catching his eye again. “You’re here, aren’t you? You came with me, even though all of this is…”
Weird? Awkward? Dangerous?
“... Unfamiliar.” She landed on the most diplomatic word, but it was also the truest one. This whole situation was unfamiliar for the both of them, if for vastly different reasons. A half smile pulled at her lips, followed by a shrug that threatened to send the thin strap of her blouse off her shoulder. “That’s enough for me.”