Rey's own apartment isn't much better, though she does keep a few soft spaces to curl up and read at her leisure. Her eyes rake over the assorted parts and projects with a keen sense of what she'd use them for, and what they might've traded for back home. She still has a difficult time not coming back home with every potentially useful scrap she sees.

She puts the coffee down on the nearest available space and tries not to look too eager to know what he's doing. It's a losing battle, but she waits until he doesn't seem like he's likely to set anything on fire before asking.

"What are you working on?"