[ He rolls them over into the grass so that he has the upper hand again and Rey's irritation spikes, unreasonably. Instinctively she knows he wouldn't hurt her in this place — and a subconscious part of her knows on some level that he wouldn't have hurt her on Starkiller, either — but she's a scrappy fighter first and foremost, having had to defend herself one too many times from the dregs of the desert who'd wanted something from her. Her disorientation has momentarily bested her better judgment. ]

What're you doing?! I told you to get off —

[ Despite her command she's wrapping her legs around his lower half almost vise-like, trying to get leverage to roll them both over again so that she's not underneath him, but it doesn't have quite the effect she'd intended it to have. Instead it draws him closer so that most of his weight rests on her, their hips aligned tightly.

And then she snaps at him, angrily: ] It's just like you to be more concerned about yourself than someone who was just trying to help you!