"Sometimes I wonder if we ever truly let anyone completely in. The desire for another human being to know you, all of you, all the pieces, even the ones you're ashamed of — is huge. But too often, we sit down and sort through the pieces only picking out the pretty ones, leaving the ugly ones behind, not realizing that choosing not to share with someone else is like committing a crime against our very soul."
― Rachel Van Dyken
Rey didn't think that she'd ever question herself so completely, doubting every decision she had made since her departure from Jakku. She had always been so sure of herself, placing one foot in front of the other on a path that seemed predestined for her feet alone, comfortable in the knowledge that her life would remain as constant as the shoes she'd wear or the sand she'd find in her hair. When she had gazed into Jakku's azure skies as a child, stepping into someone else's life for a mere instant, she didn't think that she'd find herself fighting over Luke Skywalker's lightsaber years later, trapped in Kylo Ren's icy stare as though she belonged there, permanently trapped. Her life had become disjointed, a puzzle that required solving, yet she wasn't sure whether she was ready to grasp another piece of it. She didn't know where she'd put it once it had found its way into her hand.
Rey glanced at Luke's broken lightsaber, observing the kyber crystal flashing from within. Everything she'd tried to do to fix it had failed. Her hands bore the scars of her transgressions, cut in places where she had pressed a little too hard, prying it apart in an attempt to steal the secrets stowed within. For such a small device, it yielded both too much and too little for her liking, embodying everything that she had tried so desperately to hide from herself. Without it she felt naked, vulnerable in a way that only Kylo Ren had made her feel, and with it she felt ignorant, unprepared to handle its importance. Each half represented a side of her that she was reluctant to acknowledge. Her uncertainty had grown, bruising her heart and everything she had placed within it, seeping into her mind as slowly as Kylo's presence, making its home in the spaces she had reserved for herself alone.
When she felt this way, he'd bleed into her peripheral like a ghost.
His fingers found her face first, barely grazing her skin, jumping from freckle to freckle in silent admiration, afraid that she'd slip away from him as easily as she had done so before. His hands were always warm in these shared moments, always gentle, and always searching for something she refused to give a name to. She didn't want to think about any of it. The weight of his proximity had become too much to bare, breaching the walls she had erected as though they hadn't existed to begin with. She stifled a cry of indignation, throwing herself against his chest in an attempt to push him away, to shut him out, to simply escape the searing heat of his physical presence, but he had become as unbreakable as a sheet of reinforced glass. His breath brushed against her mouth instead, spilling across her lips like words left unsaid, sharing his desire for her in the same way that they were sharing air. His eyes brightened, more alive than they had ever been in person, kindling an unknown flame somewhere deep in the center of her being, setting her on fire. This feeling tugged at her ribcage, pulling the air from her lungs, threatening to snap. Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to look at him, to truly see him for what he had become, afraid that if she met his stare, she'd lose herself in all of the moments in between.
She opened her mouth, trembling in light of it all, allowing his name to slip from her lips.
For a split second, Luke's lightsaber felt whole. Kylo Ren became Ben Solo again, filling every crack and crevice of her soul with a feeling far brighter than anything she had ever felt in her life. The decisions she had made didn't feel so incoherent, falling into place like the puzzle she had lost hope in completing, stretching out to form a path that she felt comfortable in following. His fingers felt safe, shielding her from whatever it was that pulled at her consciousness like a string, drawing her away from his eyes, his mouth, and his touch. For a split second, Rey felt complete.
Her will was stronger than he'd ever give her credit for.
She pulled away before his mouth could brush against her own, opening her eyes to find herself alone, confused, and lost. Luke's lightsaber remained where she could see it, broken in half, glowing softly, repelling the darkness that surrounded it, filling her with doubt. She stared at each piece until she had grown angry again, wondering why she couldn't fix it on her own. In silent affirmation, she'd tell herself that Ben Solo was gone. Kylo Ren remained.
It was impossible to put two halves of one whole together again anyway.
A/N: I've officially become Reylo trash. I regret nothing!