poe dameron, about as force sensitive as a potato, taking jedi-in-training rey and finn to his homeworld to show them the tree. sitting back, smiling and basking in their wide-eyed excitement, because this thing the two of them share is utterly inaccessible to him, but all the more wonderful for that.
poe telling them about growing up with the force sensitive tree and how to him it was only ever just a tree: a great, solid tree he could climb and hide in and nap or have family picnics under, but nothing more.
poe telling them about luke skywalker visiting his family when poe was five and a conversation with luke that he can’t quite remember, and luke telling his parents some things afterwards and then leaving, with a smile and a ruffle of poe’s hair and nothing more
(the overall gist of luke’s conclusion was ‘100% certified muggle, but the good news is he wouldn’t know the dark side if it roundhouse kicked him in the teeth’. poe’s parents, both of them soldiers with soldiers’ superstitions, took this as a bit of a prophecy)
‘were you disappointed?’ rey asks. for a second, poe considers dismissing it with an easy laugh, but the truth is he had been. bitterly, bitterly disappointed when he figured out what he was going to miss out on, hearing about other kids who got picked, hearing about the things they could do, because when you’re five years old the prospect of learning to make things float with your mind is pretty much the pinnacle of coolness.
‘a little,’ he says. ‘for a while. then my mother took me flying.’
The Archery Range 