He leans his cheek into her palm, lets his beard come to the heel of her hand, and closes his eyes just for a second.

He doesn't know how to tell her what he feels - wouldn't be able to tell her even if he wasn't hiding, because even then, for twenty or so years as a Jedi, he was so used to lying through the Force about what he was or wasn't feeling, he'd never be able to give her what she craves.

And now he's done with the lies, but his need to hide overrides everything else.

No one touches him like this anymore. No one touches him physically at all, really. Haven't for a long time.

His lips part as he breathes through his mouth, and he wonders how he's going to get through this without hurting her.