He's researching the local produce, trying to find something new to please her. He ignores the constant fear that lives at the base of his skull. She doesn't love you. She'll never love you.
Kylo knows that she enjoys him. Enjoys how he can make her body sing, how he tends to her. After a lifetime of desperately trying to survive, she responds eagerly to every new delight he can find for her. She enthusiastically shares her body with him and he tries to tell himself it's enough.
He will survive on how her eyes gleam when he brings her a new delicacy, how she cries out in the pleasure he gives her.
Sometimes he's weak, in the small hours of the night, when she's sated and allows him to hold her. I love you, I love you, I love you.
He hopes she's truly sleeping when he breaks.
She's laughing with her friends and he's trying to keep from glowering. He just wants her attention when he's not providing her pleasure, be it through delicious new treats or with his body. He knows he should be grateful that she lets him anywhere near her. It should be enough. It has to be enough. The alternative is unthinkable.
He'd been shocked when she'd responded to his shy offerings. He'd been on a mission, scoping out an old First Order base, but he'd found it completely stripped of any useful intelligence and he'd had a rare bit of free time to fill.
He's still not sure why he'd been drawn to the bustling marketplace, but as he'd wandered the stalls, he'd come across a short man selling chocolates. There were countless flavors and even he'd groaned when he'd tried one. He'd purchased an embarrassingly large box, secretly ... hoping. He rarely lets himself really think on his actions when it comes to Rey.
She'd never had chocolate before and her moan of pleasure had forced him to shift uncomfortably. That was how it started.
Slowly he had coaxed her with whatever new temptation he could find. Then, after a particularly raucous celebration things ... changed.
The first time she'd let him bury his face between her thighs, worship her the way he'd dreamed of, he'd thought he could die right then, the happiest of men.
But now, being so close to what he truly wants … having her body, but not her heart is slowly driving him mad.
Kylo finds her waiting in his room. She's already naked and it's plain what she wants. He remembers when this started, when he'd been so transported by the fact he was allowed to touch her that he hadn't noticed the insurmountable wall she keeps between herself and everyone.
He suppresses a sigh, trying to get himself into the right frame of mind. At least he's able to give her this. Give her something. It's not as if he deserves anything more.
She's so beautiful, her skin glowing in the low light. He goes to her, shucking his clothing as he makes his way across the room to his bed. He doesn't say anything. They never speak when they're like this. It's not what she's here for.
Kylo pulls her to the edge of the bed, a tad roughly. He has to be rough, sometimes … he has to remind himself. Parting her legs, the scent of her arousal helps push away his tumultuous thoughts. Here, here is heaven and he'll do whatever he has to in order to continue to lay his meager offerings at her altar.
There's no preamble, he delves his tongue between her folds, plunging in as deep as he can while he fondles her breast with his hand. Her breathing grows harsh as he sets himself to his task. There's not much he likes better than the feel of her clit beneath his tongue, how she whimpers when he circles under the hood. Now she's getting loud and he takes some pride in the fact everyone knows what he's doing to her. At least in this way, she's his.
She's close, her cries have taken on that desperate quality when he almost has her there. But she prefers to come on his cock so he pulls from her and licks and nibbles up her body. Will she let him kiss her this time? She doesn't always. Maker he hopes so. He reaches her neck and she's pulling him to her with her legs. She's impatient tonight.
He finds her mouth as he enters her and she kisses him back. He's surprised when she draws her tongue along his lips and he happily opens for her. Soon he's thrusting into her and she's kissing him deeply. Oh Force, yes. For a moment he feels it, connection. Like this might mean something to her.
She's demanding with her kiss and he gives her everything. He puts his whole heart into joining with her. She feels so damned good and he doesn't think when he pulls back, needing to look into her eyes.
They're both breathing heavily as he holds her gaze, her eyes are so open and he thinks maybe he sees … then fear streaks across her face and she turns away. He's not ready! He needs her, oh Force, he needs her. Foolishly, he tries to kiss her again.
She hisses a warning sound, then she's pushing him off her, turning over and going on her knees. She arches her back, presenting him with her tight heat. The only place he's allowed to enter. Not her heart. Never her heart.
He swallows down his anguish and gives her what she wants.
He's doing it again. Murmuring his devotion when he thinks she's asleep, holding her so gently. She knows she shouldn't stay the night, but she always does. She tells herself it's just inconvenient to get dressed after he's worn her out, that it's simply more comfortable to stay where she is.
She's so afraid to be vulnerable again. To believe again. She thinks she might love him, too, but she can't bear to be left dreaming. She won't give him that power over her. She can't. A tear falls down her cheek as he whispers he loves her against her neck.
She wants to turn to him, tell him how much his tender care means to her, but how can she ever trust anyone ever again?
So she bites the inside of her cheek and tries not to let herself think that he means it.
He feels like his chest is caving in. He'd pushed her too far. She'd just come back from a dangerous mission and after listening in the command center, hearing how close she'd come to dying … he hadn't been able to stop himself, rushing to meet her when her ship landed.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. He'd pulled her into his arms and, like an idiot, had said, "Rey, never do that to me again! I thought I'd lost you!"
She'd shoved him away and hissed, "I'm not yours to lose!"
He had still been too close to the terror and had shouted, "Yes you are! You come to my bed nearly every night, you beg me to make love to you. You're mine!"
Her eyes had narrowed and she'd spat, "I'm terribly sorry that you're confused, Kylo, but I'm not yours, I've never been yours."
Then she'd stalked away from him and now he's sitting on his lonely bed with his head in his hands.
He stays like that all night, listening for a light knock that never comes.
Rey lays on her bed in a tight ball wondering if it would be so very wrong to belong to someone again.
Yes, yes it would. She doesn't need him. She doesn't need anyone.
He waits for her every night. She never comes.
"I'm leaving," Kylo tells his mother. It's been a month and he's beginning to lose his sanity. Rey, of course, remains unaffected. He has to leave before she picks her new distraction. He's rather surprised she hasn't already.
"What? Why?" Leia asks, shock in her warm brown eyes.
"You know why," he utters bitterly.
"Oh, Son … perhaps in time she'll …" she trails off and he can see she doesn't believe what she's saying.
"No, she won't."
"Did you hear? We're finally free of that freak Kylo Ren," one of the pilots Rey doesn't know very well shouts to his companion over the din of the dining hall. Rey is instantly focused on their exchange.
"What happened? Don't suppose we're lucky enough that he got killed are we?"
Rey feels like a knife has sliced deep into her chest. No, that can't be true. It can't.
"Nah, we aren't that lucky. He's leaving. Just saw him boarding the transport with a couple of big bags. Jan says he's headed to the Outer Rim."
"Well thank the Maker for that. He gives me the creeps."
Their conversation ebbs away from her focus as Rey takes in what she's heard. At first she'd almost fallen over from relief when she'd heard that he's unharmed. But now she's comprehending what was said. He's leaving? No, he can't leave! She … she needs him.
Every night she fights with herself, refusing to give in to the need to see his large dark eyes, to feel safe the way that only he has ever made her feel. She'd told herself it didn't matter.
But she'd still watched his every move whenever she could, making sure to catch a glimpse every day. He can't leave! Not without knowing …
She's on her feet and running as fast as she can to the hangar.
She's too late.
Great heaving sobs are pulled from her throat as she watches the ship fly away. Watches him fly away.
She's shaking uncontrollably. What has she done? What if he really did love her?
Memory after memory unspools in her mind. The look in his eyes when he'd first given her chocolate. The hopeful, shy expression when he'd taken her hand the first time he'd touched her. The way she feels when she lets herself hold his eyes while he's inside her. His arms around her, guarding her sleep.
What has she done?
She cries like she hasn't cried since she was a little girl. Her vision is tunneling and she sees a different ship, one she tries so hard not to remember. Leaving her.
"Come back!" she sobs out before collapsing on the tarmac.
She stays like that for a long time, crying until there's nothing left inside but the hole that has always defined her.
She feels hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her, but she refuses to move. If she moves it's real. If she moves she really has lost him. Pushed him away. This man who might have stayed if she'd only let him.
"Don't touch me!" she snarls, pulling more tightly into herself.
"Rey …" a deep, impossibly gentle voice pleads. No. It's not him. He's gone. She's lost him, like she loses everyone.
More insistent now, the hands grasp her biceps. "Rey …"
She finally lets herself be lifted to her feet, but she doesn't understand what her eyes are telling her when she lifts her face to find him. His beautiful dark eyes hold her suspended. She hasn't seen him up close in weeks and her heart hurts to see the bruises beneath his eyes, the sallowness of his skin. Oh, gods, how could she have been so blind?
His hands have moved to her shoulders and she just wants to close the distance, feel those strong, protective arms circle her and never let her go, but somehow she can't seem to move.
He sighs and his voice quavers when he says, "I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave you. I know you'll never love me …" He looks away for a moment and his eyes shut briefly in pain. "But please … let me love you."
His soul is in his eyes and she suddenly understands just what precisely she's done to him. How her own fear has nearly destroyed this proud, strong man.
The terror is howling in her head. Don't do it. Don't tell him. Pain, pain, pain.
There's an ocean of adoration in his eyes. Can she do this? Can she believe again? Her belief had cost her years, waiting for a faithless family that never came. But she looks at this mountain of a man, looking at her as if she were everything. And she finds that she can. She takes in a steadying breath and pushes away all of her protection.
She winds her arms around his neck and goes to her toes until her mouth is at his ear. He's trembling. She is, too.
"You're wrong. I love you. I think I always have."
It takes a moment for him to understand what she's just said. Her arms are around his neck and she's kissing his cheek.
Then, it all comes rushing in and he crushes her to his chest. He shudders into her hair and he thinks he might be crying.
"I love you, Rey, I love you."
He holds her face with one hand and positions himself at her entrance with the other. Her eyes are open and full of love as he gently presses into her. Oh. Oh … this is what he's craved, almost from the first time he saw her. Connection.
He never takes his eyes from hers.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading this angst fest! Please let me know what you thought!