Hello everyone, this is my story! Important notices:

1. I understand those of you who are not Reylo supporters, I was one of you! I actually wrote this as a practice for character development in on of my novels and chose these two characters because I DIDN'T ship them. But...well...after being inside of their heads for a while...I converted. Yes, I converted myself, don't know how that works, it just happened! XD

2. For those of you hard-core Reylo shippers, congratulations, you've found yourself a new one! However, as much as i love Reylo, they are not the only romance in this story, but their love is pretty constant. (I'm considering writing the Prequel explaining how this love came to be...but I haven't decided yet.

3. Last thing: If Rey and Kylo are revealed as RELATIVES in Cannon, THIS IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! Not into that stuff ;)

I hope you enjoy a good tugging of the heart strings every once and a while! May the force be with you! Enjoy!

-D.

The sand swirls in the harsh wind as it is picked up and thrown by the desert man's boots as he begins the final stretch of his eight mile trek home. The last sun is finally setting and it's scorching rays finger his tall form with an almost violent love.

His wraps are pale greens and blues, faded by the zealous gaze of the sun and darkened in sweat that he wears as a second skin. His back is straight and proud despite the heavy burden he wears strapped to his back, and the staff is his iron grip is more of a weapon than a crutch. He leaves a deep trail behind him of heavy, powerful footsteps speaking to the giant he might have been in history...but his eyes are that of a warrior long past his days of war.

From where his dark gaze can be seen over the wraps across his mouth and nose, one might be able to identify a sandstorm of emotion; anger, love, hate, power, passion, and an overpowering potent mix of peace and exhaustion. Here the desert was man hiding from his fate, and here in the desert, he was at peace in the boiling heat of four suns and the grating sand a constant clinging to his frame.

His trail is quickly wiped clean by the wailing winds and the desert man is caught up in the sands and winds as though he belongs to them and them to he. He leaves no trace or trail to be tracked by man or beast. He is a creature of the sand and heat, a creature of brilliant love and passion, but agony and suffering as well.

Like the sun, an observer might find him difficult to look at, painful even, the torment paired with love in his eye is too much for many to bear...but like the sun also the observer might find difficulty in looking away, for the rapturous experience of watching the powerful brilliance of his soul so manifested in that burning gaze.

But up ahead, coming to be joined with him in his trail is an answer. A desert flower, delicate and colorful standing in strength and dignity despite her desolate homeland. Looking upon her thin and graceful form wrapped in aged white cloths one might question whether the flower lived for the rays of the sun...or in fact the sun lived to touch the delicate petals of the flower and illuminate her precious face.

As the desert man joins to her and they walk across the plain sided by side, it would be difficult to deny the fact that the sun lives for the flower and not the other way around. They travel as such in silence, both faces wrapped up tight and carry their burdens with mighty strength possessed by warriors of the same breed.

Their exhausted pants dance in harmony, breaths wet and hot against their face. Her shoulder nearly brushes his elbow with every step they take, and one could scarce deny the fact that words or not they communicated to one another by their souls. The strength and comfort in the solace they found in each other's company speak in volumes promising they belong to one another in every way.

They travel like that for another mile as the final sun sets in violent red sending crimson stains across the sand in beautifully morbid streams and now the last dying rays illuminate a path of two pairs of booted feet that are quickly to be swept away.

Finally their journey has met it's end and they stand before the threshold of a ship that for the past seven years has been called their home. A broken twisted piece of crumpled metal with suns and flowers painted in brilliant hues by child's hand across the hull.

And here he comes, the artist, a child made by the flesh of flower and sun, running from the open door to throw himself in his mother's arms, to tear the face mask over her shoulder—revealing the heroine of his world and the galaxy-and plant wet kisses across her sun browned face. Then he spreads wide his arms and leaps into the sky knowing full well his father will catch him and performs his unabashed love across his father's face as well, tearing the mask free from the desert man's face to reveal the face of one of the most feared men in all the galaxies, the harsh face of a predator split wide in a grin as he accepts his son's love and admiration.

As the sun wraps a heavy arm about the waist of the flower, and draws her close to him as he hold his small son at his hip, they approach the entrance of their home unknowing that when the last sun that sets this evening rises tomorrow they will cease being a desert man and his wife.

There will be no more sun or flower and no more father and mother. Tomorrow as the red sun rises, they will be thrown viciously back into the names and roles not owned or touched by them in seven years. Tomorrow the flower will be once again alone, the last of her kind.

A single Jedi named Rey.

And tomorrow her husband the sun will be torn from her strong grasp and trapped behind a dark mask to be hated and feared in his agony and solitude.

A knight of Ren named Kylo.

But tomorrow has not come and so the desert man holds his precious son tight and eats with his wife and child. Tonight the flower will sleep wrapped up in her husband's warm embrace and have beautiful dreams about what her son is going to be when he grows into a man. Tonight is all they have, and tomorrow is all they will lose.