No, not by standing in front of Kylo Ren's house with gifts for him. And not by having so many gifts for him, albeit mostly small gifts. Not by even having the desire to give him gifts in the first place. (Though she supposes those should probably count. She just can't bring herself to care.)
She screwed up because the gifts she has are an odd assortment of trinkets that will more than likely be meaningless to him and jokes he probably won't think are funny. Which wouldn't be nearly so bad if she didn't have so many and had actually given them to him one by one as she acquired them instead of collecting them into one big stupid bunch. A bunch she's now got to give to him all at once randomly like the socially awful creature he'll almost certainly think she is. And the worst part is he wouldn't be completely wrong about that, desert scavenger that she is. But she's learned enough to know that walking up to someone's house and handed him some rubbish you should have given him months ago isn't anywhere near normal.
But she's here. And he'll have sensed her by now so it's too late to leave. So Rey takes a deep breath, clutches the smooth, black wood box tighter in her hands and adjusts the brown-paper-wrapped lumpy parcel under her arm, and approaches the door to give it three quick taps.]
11/19!!
No, not by standing in front of Kylo Ren's house with gifts for him. And not by having so many gifts for him, albeit mostly small gifts. Not by even having the desire to give him gifts in the first place. (Though she supposes those should probably count. She just can't bring herself to care.)
She screwed up because the gifts she has are an odd assortment of trinkets that will more than likely be meaningless to him and jokes he probably won't think are funny. Which wouldn't be nearly so bad if she didn't have so many and had actually given them to him one by one as she acquired them instead of collecting them into one big stupid bunch. A bunch she's now got to give to him all at once randomly like the socially awful creature he'll almost certainly think she is. And the worst part is he wouldn't be completely wrong about that, desert scavenger that she is. But she's learned enough to know that walking up to someone's house and handed him some rubbish you should have given him months ago isn't anywhere near normal.
But she's here. And he'll have sensed her by now so it's too late to leave. So Rey takes a deep breath, clutches the smooth, black wood box tighter in her hands and adjusts the brown-paper-wrapped lumpy parcel under her arm, and approaches the door to give it three quick taps.]
Hello in there! It's me.