This prompt is from reyloprompts on Tumblr!
post/171912411050/the-next-time-rey-and-kylo-meet-rey-is-sporting

Shout out to my girl RensAwakening on tumblr AO3 for putting up with my bs and for agreeing to beta even my drabbles. I'm insecure and wouldn't post anything for the world to see without her encouragement. Also, you should check out her fics, especially if you like angst. Ben Solo Pain Train indeed!

Prompt:

The next time Rey and Kylo meet, Rey is sporting braids, just like Leia used to.

"You changed your hair."

"Your mother helped me."

"I can tell. It looks good."

Kylo Ren stands in front of the panoramic viewport in his chambers on the Supremacy. He had abruptly dismissed his generals and walked out on Hux mid-presentation, and is finally enjoying a quiet moment after another full day of mind-numbing meetings, endless paperwork, and Hux's incessant blathering. The ginger irritant has been monopolizing his time lately and testing the limits of his patience with his contempt and condescension. The idea of killing Hux is so very tempting, but replacing him would be such a drag. He has to give it to the treacherous, pompous ass; he is in fact annoyingly efficient. Kylo would keep him around for now, much like his dead Master had, even if that means he has to sleep with an eye open. It's not like he is getting much sleep these days anyway...

His eyes fixate on the dark vastness of deep space, looking without seeing, as he wills his mind into casting his restless thoughts out and to the blackness.

He's thinking about her again. He scoffs at himself, recognizing bitterly that in actuality he'd thought about her all day. Every day. The wily scavenger had somehow made her way into his first thought in the morning and his last one at night, only to reappear in his dreams and nightmares, and there seemingly isn't a damn thing he can do about it. When did he allow himself to become bewitched by her, to turn into the most pathetic version of himself? He sneers, and tells himself that the whole thing is beneath him, that she is beneath him.

Except she isn't, and he knows it. It's a lie he tells himself to cope with her constant rejection, to pretend he doesn't care. No, she is his equal in every way… the other half of him, the better half, and to deny it is folly.

His body tenses as the familiar tingling at his nape alerts him of her presence. The Force has a cruel sense of humor, a bad sense of timing, or both, he thinks, now glaring out the viewport.

He isn't ready to face her again. Their last encounter had ended in a screaming match, with her in tears yet again and him feeling more like a supreme asshole than a Supreme Leader. He might be right—no, he knows he's right—but it seems that the girl would soon rather die than agree with him on anything. He's starting to believe that she'll never come around, her stubbornness rivaling his. Right now he's simply too weary and not at all in the mood for round two.

He appears impassive as he tentatively skirts around the edges of her mind, trying to gauge her mood. She seems calm and almost… giddy. Absent of all thought, lost in feeling.

He closes his eyes and concentrates. Slowly, like a holo coming into focus, he makes out a lake, green hills, and a clear blue sky with low, puffy white clouds. The perfume of rominaria flowers fills his nostrils, and he almost feels the cool water on his own feet, a very odd sensation when you're wearing boots.

Opening his eyes, he sees her sitting up with her eyes closed, and she's smiling as she gently swings her legs. Dipping her feet into the lake, no doubt. Her hair is up again, only this time it's woven into intricate braids that wrap around her head.

He could recognize his mother's handiwork anywhere, and unwelcome memories instantly assault him. Memories of him, as a child, playing and hiding behind the long chestnut curtains of his moth… Leia's hair as she undid her elaborate hairstyles. He swallows, hoping that it dissolves the thick, burning knot that's formed in his throat. A feeling of heartbreak that is decidedly not his embraces him. He steels himself against the intrusive memory, suppressing it swiftly and viciously, before returning his attention to the present, to Rey.

"You changed your hair," he states simply, approaching her. She glances up at him, her eyes soft before quickly settling for a neutral expression.

"Your mother helped me," she says, still peering at him from the corner of her eye as he towers over her.

"I can tell," he heaves, lowering himself to sit beside her. "It looks good."

A lovely blush creeps up her face as she peels her eyes off him and pointedly ignores his languid gaze. She tenses as he lifts a hand and gently captures a wayward curl by her ear that's moving with the breeze. Her legs stop their mindless swinging midair, before she lowers them. She tries to hide the shiver that runs down her spine, but her force signature purrs at his touch, betraying her. She can't hide from him, not anymore.

"Ben…"

"I don't want to fight."

"Neither do I."

He gently tucks the curl behind her ear and releases it before his dark eyes penetrate hers. She holds his gaze for a few beats and sighs. Slowly, she lowers her head onto his shoulder and he freezes, suddenly too afraid to move, or even breathe.

Her body relaxes and she eases against him. When it becomes clear to him that she has no intention of moving away from him, he takes a deep, shuddering breath and allows his own body to relax as well. A hesitating arm snakes behind his back and grips his waist. He gulps, both reveling in the warmth of her small, gentle hand, and wary of her unusual action. Is this a trick? She hates him. Doesn't she? Who wouldn't...?

But she's soft and warm against him, and the breeze is carrying her delightful, unique scent, filling him to the brim with it and he's weak… Force, he's so weak. He's only vaguely aware of the moment he wraps a trembling arm around her waist and pulls her even closer. He buries his face in the crown of her head, nuzzling against it, breathing her in. It's the closest they've ever been physically and while it's more than he's ever allowed himself to hope for, at the same time it's… not enough. It's never enough.

They sit there in a comfortable silence, side by side, holding each other, enjoying the serenity that only each other's presence provides. The stress and ennui of his day melts away until there's only Rey and her soothing, pulsing force signature steadying his heart and mind.

"Can you see my surroundings?" she asks after a long while. The corners of his mouth twitch at the realization that she's echoing his words.

"Only if I close my eyes."

He feels her nod. It's the same for her. Still, their bond grows and evolves every day, allowing them to see more, feel more.

"Close them, then. You'll like it."

He doesn't tell her that he's not only seen where she is, but also that he knows exactly where she is. Varykino, his grandmother's prized lake retreat on Naboo. The thought of Leia installing the rebels in his grandmother's private haven makes his anger surge and his blood boil. His angry thoughts are quickly replaced by another; he could get his fleet there in mere hours and he could just take Rey, all further arguments done and over with.

He almost laughs at that. Rey would kick and scream and fight him every step of the way and then some. The mental image entices him, amuses him, and makes him wary of her fury all the same time. No, his fierce, willful, beautiful Rey would not be taken against her will. The only way he'll have her is if she comes to him of her own volition.

"Aren't you afraid I'll find out where you and your traitor rebel friends are holed up?" He asks flatly. She lifts her head and scowls at him. He decides not to antagonize her further, and softens his gaze. "I'd rather see you, Rey."

Her scowl remains and her pretty pink lips pout even as she blushes. Yet he feels her emotions swelling, most prominently her hope. That never-ending, steadfast hope of hers. Her eyes gleam.

"Just do it, Ben," she urges him, relaxing her features as she lets out a brief, soft laugh that makes his heart stutter. "Or are you afraid of me?"

He narrows his eyes. She raises her brows and flashes him a taunting smirk. Finally, he obeys, not without sighing dramatically and pressing his lips into a thin line. He can practically feel her eyes rolling as he takes a breath and begins to reach out in the Force. Slim fingers squeeze the corners of his mouth indelicately, making his lips pucker. He's about to protest when he feels petal soft lips press against his.

He flinches and his eyes shoot open, but he finds himself once again in his cold, sterile chambers, alone. No lake country. No warmth. No Rey.

Dumbfounded, he blinks a couple of times, and he can't help but wonder if he's delirious. But the spot where her lips touched his just mere seconds ago tingles and he knows he didn't just imagine it. His gloved hand reaches up and traces his lips, which had spontaneously curved upward in a smile.

"Huh…"

Maybe there is still hope after all.