They hadn't really touched much when they were in the medbay together - sometimes she would hold his hand for a moment (when he was asleep), or she would squeeze his wrist (when he was awake), but the only time they had really spent any amount of time touching each other had been on Scarif, when they embraced on the beach, not quite ready for death. But now it felt like they each had free range - as much free range as they were both comfortable with at least.

So her fingers rubbed against his jaw, her thumb across his cheek bone, before it traveled to his collar bone. She looked at his Adam's apple and then at the collar of his shirt. He was wearing a jacket - the nice one she liked. It was undone all the way and he was wearing a long sleeved shirt underneath. Part of her wanted to take those off of him. Her, not him. She wanted to undress him.