Poe knocks on your door at 3 A.M.
You're hardly presentable, hair in tangles and eyes puffy from disturbed sleep, but it's Poe, and he won't mind. He looks just as exhausted as you when you let him into your room, orange pilot suit rumpled and dark curls twisting every which way as he grins tiredly.
"Y/N," he sighs. "I'm sorry for waking you up this early. You look great, by the way," he adds, lips turning up at the corners. You roll your eyes, trying to stifle the heat that's crawling up your neck.
"You'd better have a good reason for this little visit," you respond, half-joking. His smile immediately fades, and he slowly reaches out to take your hand in one of his own. You try not to look surprised; Poe's usually an affectionate, touchy-feely kind of guy, but this seems different.
"I'm, uh, going out tomorrow," he breathes, trying to keep his voice light. "General Organa needs me to meet with a supporter of the resistance on Jakku with information about her brother."
"With your squadron?" His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head, carefully watching for your reaction. "Oh – I, that's a great honor, Poe," you lie, attempting to make this whole situation seem less dangerous than it actually is. "I can't think of anyone else I'd trust to do it."
That part's true: you'd trust Poe with your life. A, he's honestly the best pilot in the Resistance, (even though he's never admitted it,) and B, he's your best friend. Maybe you'd like him to be more than that, but you could never admit that. Poe's charmed all the women and half the men in the camp; there's no reason he'd fall for you.
"I wanted to talk to you before I leave," he admits, briefly glancing down at your hand in his before making eye contact with you. "I don't know if I'm coming back–"
You blink, trying to comprehend what he's saying. Poe might die.
"–and I wanted to let you know that you're important to me. Not like, I-think-you're-great important, but – I mean, you are great too, Y/N – more like I-would-hate-to-die-without-telling-you important."
You pull him into a hug, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and inhaling, trying to memorize that exact musky smell and the way his arms feel around your waist.
"You're 'important' to me too," you whisper, feeling him smile into your neck before he pulls away. It's almost uncomfortable how intensely he's looking at you, and you try to fight back the heat burning on your cheeks.
"I'll stop if you want me to," he murmurs, gently cupping the back of your neck.
"Don't."
Poe's ever so gentle with you, slowly pulling you closer to him until you can feel his heartbeat and the minute shaking of his hand on your hip and then he's kissing you and you realize it'd be so very hard to put yourself back together if he doesn't come back from Jakku.
Your blankets are chilly on your back, and you feel him smile against your lips as you let out a small squeak of surprise.
"Someone's cold?" he grins, propping himself up on his elbows above you.
"Not for long," you respond, pulling him down onto the mattress. He lies on his side, holding you close enough that you can see the tiny scars freckling his face. "Don't leave without saying goodbye," you slur, eyelids feeling heavier the more you try to stay awake.
"I promise," Poe smiles, holding up his pinky finger. You wrap your own pinky around his, sealing the promise, then curl into his side.
By the time Poe wakes you up, he's already dressed and ready to leave.
"Poe," you frown, pushing your covers aside and standing up. "You promised you'd let me say goodbye."
"I had a feeling that the longer your goodbye would be, the harder it would be for me to leave," he says, smiling crookedly. "You know me. I get emotional."
Your throat suddenly feels tight, and it's hard to anything but drink him in, bedhead and rumpled suit.
"Try not to get hurt," you try, ignoring the break in your voice. "I might get emotional too."
"I'll be back, Y/N. I promised."
One last hug and a kiss that's much shorter that you would've liked, and he's gone.
You brush your hair, wash your face, and pull on your uniform. Taking a deep breath, you turn your door handle, walking towards the canteen and away from that odd emptiness in your room that hadn't been there before.
He'll be back.