I had at least one dream that I couldn't tell where it came from—nothing in my life that I could remember… something about an Octave Stairway?

[Yeah… words, voice, were starting to be too difficult… but connection wasn't. He felt the understanding flowing between them like others (Chirrut) had described the Force… not a substitute for explicit communication, if they were to venture into unknown territory; but what they'd established here, right now, in the last half hour, was so much, so deep, so unprecedented and precious, more than enough to sink into and just enjoy as an end in itself, for a while. His arms tightened around her in response, signaling he felt he gesture and welcomed it; and the fingers the hand still cradling her head traced meaningless glyphs in her hair.

He murmured softly back, unfiltered and unguarded,]

And I'm yours. However much you want. All the way.