NOW PLAYING: Million Years Ago, Adele
The Only One
I know I'm not the only one who regrets the things they've done, sometimes I just feel it's only me who can't stand the reflection that they see. I wish I could live a little more, look up to the sky not just the floor, I feel like my life is flashing by and all I can do is watch and cry…
Adele, Million Years Ago
Kylo was settling in well enough among the resistance, he supposed. His mother had welcomed him back, and Finn and Poe at least pretended that they could tolerate his presence. Many were still suspicious of him, though, looking at him as if he may draw his saber and attack at any moment. He couldn't blame them for their apprehension, the way they looked at him. He couldn't blame them for still seeing the monster hiding behind a mask.
And there was that anger again, that hatred for himself and who he used to be. The feeling swelled inside of him, stewing, only gaining more traction in his busy mind as time passed. Rey was teaching him in the ways of the light, in calm and peace, but he still carried far too much anger inside of him, an unfortunate remnant of his days with the first order. Like one of the holovids he watched as a young boy, his time with the order seemingly flashed before his tired eyes. Every meeting with Snoke, every slash of his lightsaber, the horrible things he did to Rey. He absolutely despised the man he was.
Partly out of anger, partly out of habit, he reached for his lightsaber on his belt. His hand gripped the handle tightly, his knuckles turning white. In a swift, jerking movement he whipped the weapon from his belt and ignited it. His breathing began to speed up, as it usually did when he was in such a mood. Just as he raised his arm to strike the wall that was to be his victim a hand clasped each arm and stopped them from carrying out their attack.
He fought against the restraints, but Rey's voice cut through the struggle.
"Find peace in the light," her words were calm, but had a desperate edge to them, as if she felt that they might not be enough to quell the rage inside his heart.
"Ben!"
The simple mention of the name his father had given him stopped him dead, he stopped struggling.
"You have such power," Rey began carefully, "more than you know. When you get like this, who am I to stop you?"
Ben turned around and looked into her eyes, almost like he was searching for something, before he quietly responded, "The only one who can."
Their moment of reverence was broken when he let out something between a scream and a groan as he rushed past her, shaking her hands from his arms. He moved slowly but almost awkwardly to a small metal desk that stood in the corner of his small room, and Rey simply watched him move. She quite liked to do that, sometimes. She found it interesting how sometimes his movements were so measured and deliberate, but sometimes emotional and jerky. When he finally came to the desk, he slammed a fisted, gloved hand into the metal.
An uneasy silence hung in the air. Rey cared about Ben, and truly believed that he could find redemption in the light, but these bursts of anger troubled her. Luke Skywalker had told her of the seductive, enticing call of the dark side, and Rey often thought that she and Ben were not so different. Under different circumstances, she easily could have been just like him. Still, she worried that he may not be able to break the chains of the darkness so easily.
Her connection to the force turned out to be, at best, a mixed blessing. She could help alleviate the pain of others, but she would also notice it when she otherwise may not have. For example, somebody who was not so intertwined with the force may not have sensed the pain and turmoil inside the heart of the man before her, may not have been able to hear three tears collide with the metal below his fist. One, two, three.
Not spending much time to weigh her options, Rey took slow and light steps toward Ben. As she got closer, she could hear his heaving breaths catch with every sob that racked his body. She came to stand behind him and gently wrapped a hand around his. His heavy breathing stilled, if only momentarily, and he looked over his shoulder at her. Rey saw the tears glistening through his eyes that he was trying so hard to hold back. This display of emotion perplexed Rey, Ben was usually so reserved when it came to sadness and regret, and she wondered what brought on this show of emotion now.
He broke their eye contact, and went back to looking at his hand that was digging into the metal table.
"Rey," his voice was uncharacteristically quiet and vulnerable. "Go, I don't want you to see me like this."
Rey shook her head. He was impossible sometimes. She hesitated briefly, but then placed a hand on the side of his face.
"Ben," he didn't seem to hear her. "Ben. Solo. Look at me!" that second time, her voice carried an uncharacteristic edge to it, and was perhaps harsher than the situation called for, but she had to get through to him somehow. He turned his head once again to meet her eyes.
"I want to see you like this. You cannot keep your emotions held inside yourself, you must let go to accept the light. Let love take the place of hatred, optimism the place of regret. You must let go, Ben."
"How can I let go!" he roared back. "My father is dead, and his blood is on my hands! No amount of light will bring him back, will cleanse the stain that the darkness left on me, don't you understand yet?"
Rey sighed, at a loss for words.
"Ben…" She almost whispered.
"No!" He interrupted. "I cannot forgive myself for what I did, I absolutely hate myself for it, why don't you?"
"You know I don't hate you for it, you know I can't."
"Why?"
"Because I love you."
Ben looked at her, his mouth slightly agape. Nobody had ever said those three simple words to him, except for his family, but that hardly counts. He never thought he would hear them again, especially not from her. This woman was so kind and forgiving, and he had so much in his past that was unforgivable, yet she still saw something worth caring about, worth loving, about him. Despite the fact that Ben had never done it before, really, and didn't much care for physical contact, he did the only thing he could think to do. He held her like he was never going to let her go.
And, no matter how many years passed, he never really did.
A/N- Unbeta'd but edited. There may be some mistakes, please feel free to point them out so that I can fix them. I am in Reylo hell and wanted to write something for them, so this fluffy angst thing resulted. Thanks for the read,
- Dorian Andromeda
