[All at once, her anger snaps apart like it was made from nothing but spun sugar.
BB-8 loved Poe with the kind of blind devotion that a droid was expected to have, but there hadn't been a moment in their time together he hadn't told her every single thing good thing about Poe he could. She feels like she knows him just through those stories, his happy little beeping stories that had kept her up through the night. It's why she had felt the easy connection, why smiling at him had been so simple when all her life it had been like pulling teeth.
And Finn. Finn never would have pulled her out of Jakku if it weren't for this man standing in front of her. He'd have been trapped too, both of them would have been, and now-]
Wait-
[Like that might help. She takes an uncertain step forward, hand reaching up and then pulling back, hanging in the air before she forces herself to try.
Why does she do this? Time and time again she falls prey to this unending need to trust someone, and his terrible attitude hadn't entirely killed what little bit of good will she felt for him. It's still there, and it flares to life all over again in the face of those tears.
As delicately as she can, fully aware it might be entirely unwelcome, she puts her hand on his shoulder.]
Don't- please. It's alright. I'm not- [Good at comfort. She wishes Finn were here.] Please don't cry, Poe.
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BB-8 loved Poe with the kind of blind devotion that a droid was expected to have, but there hadn't been a moment in their time together he hadn't told her every single thing good thing about Poe he could. She feels like she knows him just through those stories, his happy little beeping stories that had kept her up through the night. It's why she had felt the easy connection, why smiling at him had been so simple when all her life it had been like pulling teeth.
And Finn. Finn never would have pulled her out of Jakku if it weren't for this man standing in front of her. He'd have been trapped too, both of them would have been, and now-]
Wait-
[Like that might help. She takes an uncertain step forward, hand reaching up and then pulling back, hanging in the air before she forces herself to try.
Why does she do this? Time and time again she falls prey to this unending need to trust someone, and his terrible attitude hadn't entirely killed what little bit of good will she felt for him. It's still there, and it flares to life all over again in the face of those tears.
As delicately as she can, fully aware it might be entirely unwelcome, she puts her hand on his shoulder.]
Don't- please. It's alright. I'm not- [Good at comfort. She wishes Finn were here.] Please don't cry, Poe.