Author's Note: I am in no way affiliated with Lucasfilm or Disney, and I own nothing except a vivid imagination.

This is a one shot written after watching The Last Jedi. Huge Reylo fan.

I have previously posted on Tumblr.

I step up to the throne and finally take my rightful place, yet the achievement is hollow. Yes, I am Supreme Leader, having killed my master and taken his place as ruler. The First Order might not yet be as strong as Palpatine's Empire, but I have achieved something my exalted grandfather did not. I preside over squabbling generals and take pleasure in silencing Hux in the same way the Snoke previously kept me in place. All the same, despite my unleashed will and confidence, Snoke's words echo around my consciousness. I am all too aware that I am no Vader. Despite my high seat I continue to feel crippled with weakness.

I long to feel free. All the power in the galaxy is mine for the taking. Yet I am a slave to the legacy of my family, my fearsome grandfather's strength, memories of my mother and father that both inspire hate and love simultaneously, shame and longing.

Again and again I offer myself up to the dark but it does not envelop me in its bosom. Instead each half of my soul, the light and the dark, continue go to war with each other. The light despises what I have done to appease the dark, yet the light will not leave me to darkness. Ben refuses to die and let Kylo Ren rule. There is no peace, and my own splintered mind tortures me.

And then there is Rey.

Whether or not Snoke bridged our minds, the bond did not end with his death. If we are indeed bonded by the Force then it would not so easily be broken. She is another tool of the light holding me back from my true potential, a call to the light tempting me from my righteous path.

I long for her mental presence yet at the same time detest it and the sharp stabbing pain it causes through my very centre.

She has not spoken a word to me since we broke the Skywalker lightsaber and she rejected me on the Supremacy. Sometimes she ignores me, pretends she doesn't notice me, but I know that she senses me just as clear as I sense her. I do not know whether I prefer the cold shoulder to the way she looks directly at me, her eyes brimming with disappointment, regret, soft and emotional but with steely determination. I feel I would prefer the look from the forest, the look she gave me when she thought I was a monster through and through.

That is not true, I remind myself, recalling the sleep I lost over her earlier expression.

Ben Solo, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, whichever side of me screams loudest at the time, the one thing they always agree on is their feelings for the Scavenger girl from Jakku.

Sat alone in my throne room I watch with interest as she tries to salvage the pieces of our broken lightsaber. I wonder whether it is a distraction from me or whether she is truly as absorbed in the task as she appears. She curses as she catches her finger on a sharp edge and I snort in amusement. The noise causes her to glare at me as she takes the wound into her mouth. She assumes I am amused at her injury rather than her colourful phrasing, no doubt.

"I could help you, but as you can't bring yourself to speak to me I doubt you'd let me". My voice echoes around the almost empty throne room. Empty except for my knights. They will not question me.

I wonder if she will say anything, but instead I get the look. She wants help, but only from Ben, not me. She does not want Kylo, and his heart breaks just as Ben's swells. It is me that looks away this time. I find my gaze alighting on my own saner. I recall her taking it from me to strike at Snoke. I remember the pride I felt, the admiration, the concern at her folly...

There is no escaping her.

I get to my feet and leave, striding to my quarters in such a way that troopers and technical staff shrink away from the sight of me. When I get to my private sanctum I immediately rue leaving the only worthwhile company I have and feel the overwhelming loneliness even more acutely.

It takes an age to sleep, and I awake from a nightmare, drenched with sweat and panting. I go to the bathroom for a glass of water and while drinking the same I feel the familiar hum. When I return to my bed she has taken my place. Ben gallantly lets her sleep while Kylo casts her eyes over her. She sleeps in the same cream vest she wears every day, except lying on her side the curve of her breast threatens to escape its confines at any moment.

A rebellious thought or two crosses my mind and my groin stiffens uncomfortably against my pants. I quietly sigh to myself and take a seat, angling it away so if she wakes it is not obvious that she has my full attention.

After a long and painful ten minutes she begins to stir, stretching and giving a breathy yawn before her eyes flicker open.

Her mouth opens and gasps with shock; her eyes go soft before becoming more guarded.

"Take my bed. I rarely sleep anyway."

The side of her mouth twitches. She pauses.

"I know." Her voice is soft, sympathic...caring?

I am floored by the fact she has said two words to me before I even begin to contemplate how she would know about my sleeping pattern. My chest aches and I am all too aware that my feelings are broadcast all over my face by watching her own reaction.

I love her. She still has feelings for me...I think, trying not to crumble into self doubt.

We sit and lay in loaded silence for a while until the bond fades away. When I dare approach my now empty bed I cannot help but touch it reverently, hoping that some of her warmth and smell were left behind.