Kylo cannot be bothered to pay much attention to all of the new responsibilities he has. He goes through the motions, sure, giving orders and approving plans and outlining plans to crush anyone who acts against the First Order. But the fact that he can't share his immense power with his intended partner keeps him from enjoying it much.

Hux lingers in the doorway after a conference, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together, deliberating something. He turns back around and approaches Kylo's throne. The way that he drapes his greatcoat about his shoulders is meant to make him cut a more imposing figure, but to Kylo it just emphasizes the pathetic man beneath. He contemplates bodily throwing Hux out the door.

"Supreme Leader." The title comes out forced as usual.

"General Hux. I thought I dismissed you."

"I have some concerns about your current state of mind. You seem… distracted."

Hux wouldn't have dared to say something like that to Snoke. It's a blatant display of disrespect. They both know it. The idea of throwing him out the door with the Force looks better all the time.

Then he takes it a step further. "It's the girl, isn't it?"

Kylo's hands curl into fists. Is he that transparent? Or is Hux more perceptive than he gives him credit for?

The silence emboldens Hux. This has been something he's been deliberating over for a while, keeping to himself, desperate to accuse Kylo, he can tell. His speech deteriorates into a tirade.

"I've noticed a series of inconsistencies when it comes to her, Ren. Why did you bring her from Takodana instead of the BB unit? For that matter, why did you insist on interrogating her without the use of a torture droid? I can accept her defeating you—" Hux snickers to himself. "—but defeating you, the guards, and Snoke? That I have more trouble believing. There's something more at play here. There's something you're not telling me. When are you doing to confess what really happened that day?"

Hux is red in the face and near shouting by the end of it. He stops only to catch his breath.

When he finally speaks, Kylo's voice is frosty. "Are you accusing me of something? Or are you making the mistake of thinking I owe you further explanation?"

Hux's moment of boldness has left him, replaced with mounting terror.

He tries to backpedal. "I spoke out of turn—"

"You did."

"Forgive me, Supreme Leader."

Kylo stands and approaches Hux. "My forgiveness is not so easily won."

He doesn't need the Force for this. He punches the insubordinate general in the throat. Hux staggers back, bent over, wheezing, reaching for his neck. He opens his mouth in an attempt to speak again and a strangled croak is all that comes out.

Kylo looms over him. "If you ever say another word about the girl, I'm ripping your larynx out."

And then, with a hard shove of the Force, Kylo finally throws Hux across the room and out the door. Gesturing, he presses the mechanism that closes it.

Malevolent glee roils through Kylo as he settles back down on the throne. Having General Hux as his own personal punching bag may be one of the best perks of his new position. Deep down, though, he's a bit disturbed at how easily Hux had correlated his behavior to his feelings for Rey.

Just thinking her name makes him feel lovesick.

Soon after, a droid arrives with his dinner. Kylo hasn't been hungry in days. More often than not the food and the droid just end up ripped to pieces and thrown all over the room thanks to his misplaced anger. It's probably for the better that he doesn't eat anything. Hux probably had poison slipped into it.

Today, though, Kylo allows the droid to set down the elaborate meal and a goblet of wine beside him without attacking it. He stares at the ruby-colored liquid and wonders whether or not Rey has ever tasted alcohol. She can't have good associations with drinking after what her parents did to her in pursuit of it.

Right on cue, he feels a tingling sensation in the back of his neck. Kylo turns his head slowly. And there she is. Just to the side, sitting at his feet. Rey. Bundled in a shabby thermal blanket that he recognized as one from the Falcon and looking very, very small. She's asleep, but she couldn't look less relaxed. Her eyes rove beneath her lids.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kylo sets aside his meal and wine on one of the wide arms of his throne. Then he scoops her up in his arms and cuddles her close. Her slight weight in his lap and against his torso is everything. He pulls the blanket off of her in favor of swaddling her in his cape. The brief moment of cold when she's uncovered causes Rey to shift. She makes a low, confused noise and only at this point does it occur to him that it will probably scare her to have him looming over her when she wakes up. He should know that best of all.

But when Rey opens her eyes, she isn't startled. She blinks at him slowly.

"I wish I could stop dreaming about you," she sighs, snuggling her face into the crook of his arm.

"This isn't a dream." Kylo is wary of upsetting her; his voice is soft as eiderdown.

Rey becomes more alert nonetheless. He can feel her body tense against his. She lifts her head away from the crook of his arm, glances at his face, then looks away.

Kylo slides off one of his gloves and runs his fingers through her hair.

He wets his lips, then admits, "I've been dreaming of you too. The reality is better."

Does this count as reality?

Rey doesn't reply.

Kylo's hand stills. "Something's wrong. What is it?"

Rey frowns. "Did you read my mind?"

"No," he says. "Your face is an open book."

"So is yours. I don't miss that mask."

He does. He misses hiding behind it.

Rey shifts in his grasp, then sits up so that their torsos are parallel to each other. Kylo looks down at her face. His gaze lingers on her lips, but he's snapped out of it by what she says next.

"Ben, I told my friends about us. About our bond."