Jealousy

It didn't take long for the tears to come. In fact, as soon as you turned your back on him, the dam burst, but it wasn't until the door closed that your snivelling began, and only once you'd begun running back to your room, did the wailing commence.

Your heart vibrated as you ran, tears blurring your vision, a stinging sensation seeping into your eyes which you soon realised to be your mascara. Your nose was snotty, your face blotchy and a mild headache was creeping into your skull, the anger within you rising with every step you took.

"Why does he have to do this? Why does he have to be such a dick?! Goddamn ass-hat!" Insults and retaliations raged through.

You sometimes wondered why you even bothered. You'd tried to do a nice thing for him, to show him some love and kindness, trying yet again to convince him of the love and affection you felt for him, to show him he was worth something, and that he was important. Maybe that was the problem, maybe you were trying too hard?

"Fucking asshole!" you cursed, wiping the now cold tears which were beginning to dry into your cheek uncomfortably, mouth pursed, shoulders stiff and tense as your clumsy hands fumbled with the door to your chamber.

Your rage proliferated as the inanimate object refused to cooperate, "Fucking stupid door!" you groaned before giving it a swift kick, only managing to injure your foot in the process and soon turning your fury inwardly, blaming and berating yourself for 'never doing anything right'.

You stopped and took a deep breath, using the door as leverage to ground yourself a moment, before you spoke; "No, no (Y/N), this is NOT your fault, you did nothing wrong. Stop blaming yourself and taking responsibility for other people's actions," you consoled yourself.

Through managing to calm yourself for a minute, you finally got the door open. You walked straight to the kitchen to get a drink of water which you took through to your bedroom, helping yourself to a large gulp before setting the glass on the nightstand. Your feet dragged heavily to the fresher, where you washed and dried your face before studying yourself through the mirror. Quickly becoming irritated with what stared back at you, you soon retreated back to your room and changed into pyjamas.

As you collapsed onto the bed, feelings of hopelessness and melancholy took over. It didn't take long for Hux's vile words to echo through your mind, causing your throat to tighten and your jaw to ache. The kind of ache where you can feel the overwhelming feelings rising up, as you subconsciously try to push them back down, knowing it's only a matter of time before... the sobbing.

Hurt and anger poured out of you as you rained your fists down onto your pillow, imagining it to be the General's stupid head, "Fucking First Order prick!"

Through every second of your crying, you wished he was there, you wished his arms were around you. He was the very thing that had caused your distress and yet, you wanted nothing more than to feel his warmth cradling you in that moment, his soft lips on your neck, his fingers gliding through your hair, gently shooshing you until you felt better.

Your anger was suddenly amplified, both at wanting him there and not wanting him there, wanting him to be your comfort, but also wanting him to stay out of your sight, because seeing him might just make you want to swing a right-hook into his face.

Why did you have to have such conflicting feelings?

You cuddled up closer in bed, pulling your duvet around you, attempting to bring a feeling of security, all the while your eyes remained firmly shut, different scenarios and scenes playing out in your head as you cried pitifully. Happy memories of the General kissing and making love to you, the times you'd laughed, the times you'd cried, the time he'd punished you, both playfully and otherwise, all blending together like one big sappy flashback from a holomovie.

"Stupid... fucking..." you mumbled into your pillow.

"...First Order prick?" a voice finished from behind. You ceased your snivelling as you snapped your head up and looked around.

Your forehead creased into a frown when you saw him, just standing there without one ounce of emotion on his face. You hadn't heard him enter your quarters. Must have been all the wallowing self-pity.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you groaned.

"You can think of a better insult than that surely?" he replied

"Didn't wanna waste my time on it, truthfully," you snapped back, desperately wishing he hadn't walked in on you crying like a baby into your pillow. You pulled the duvet up to your neck in a feeble attempt to conceal your vulnerability. Somehow, he looked ten feet tall as he towered over the end of your bed.

After an awkward silence, he finally spoke again, "Listen, (Y/N)…"

"Can you just leave please?" you cut him off, your interruption curt and abrupt.

"I'd like to talk about..." he ignored your request, much to your irritation.

Using all the emotional strength you had left, which was withering fast, you pushed your feelings down and away, giving only a fixed expression, coupled with a standoffish demeanour. You refused to let him see how irritated he'd left you feeling.

You cut him off, "Just… just go please..." you stammered, trying to hold it together.

It was as though nothing you said had any meaning at all to him, as he continued to ignore your requests and even talking over you, "What happened earlier, I think…"

It didn't take long for you to become exasperated, now mostly about how he wasn't even entertaining a single word you said. Your opinions and wants and needs meaning nothing and feeling as though you were being trampled on again and again.

Out of nowhere, your voice boomed, "LOOK, I DON'T WANNA FUCKING SEE YOU, OKAY?"

The General was stunned and you'd quite surprised yourself too. You didn't know you had it in you to speak so assertively to him. He closed his mouth and stood silently.

After a minute, you continued, "Uggh, you make me so... MAD sometimes! I'm tired of this. I'm tired of you taking control of situations. You're not the boss of me... okay, well technically you are, and this is your ship and everything, but you are not the boss of me in this," you gestured a hand back and forth signalling the pair of you as a couple.

"I know this is your thing, you'd be a 'dom' if that's how things were between us, but… Enough!" Your heart pounded as the words came tumbling out, the General still taken aback, still standing, quietly, waiting and listening carefully.

"Sometimes," you pushed the covers off, getting out of bed as you began pacing the room, "sometimes... you take charge in our relationship. You're so used to being the alpha in life, being the big man, that you forget we're in an equal partnership." You weren't even looking at him now as you unleashed your fury, your hands shaking, looking to the floor and then to the walls and the ceiling. Somewhere in your mind, you knew that if you looked at him, you might lose your nerve.

"We are equals, and… okay, when we started out, it wasn't like that, and we roleplay sometimes, but your problem" you pointed in his face, as you strode up and down the room, "is that you tend to blur the lines between reality and bedroom play. Sometimes, SOMETIMES, you act like you own me, and I really don't fucking like it! I am not yours. I belong to me. I am allowed to have fucking friends, Lord knows, more than two would be nice! Dex... Officer Kortu is married. MARRIED OKAY? With a kid. He's friendly. He started chatting to me, it was nice, I enjoyed it, yes, not because it was attention from a man. It was just attention from SOMEONE. He has no interest in me! You don't get to decide who my friends are, or who I can and can't talk to!"

The General's eyes widened, his gaze fixed on you as you delivered your impromptu speech, spit flying from your mouth as you ranted and raved, your face a blooming shade of crimson, your hands gesturing all over the place.

"And then, AND THEN," you continued, "I try and do a nice thing for you. You never told me when your birthday was, but I stumbled upon it, I tried to surprise you. I actually did all of this for you. To try and make you happy. To make you feel special. To help you see and realise you're loved, dammit! Yes, Dex helped me get a few things in order to do that. He's a genuinely nice guy, you know. He did it just... just because, to HELP a fellow human being. No, he didn't ask who or what it was for. And yes, he DID get me the jewellery for my, for... for my piercing, and no, I didn't tell him what it was for. For your information, he thought it was a belly bar, okay? So for you to throw all that bullshit back in my face, accusing me of awful things you know I'd never fucking do... it's just, it's just LOW" your face contorted at the word, "...low and... pathetic. If that's truly how you feel, then you really don't know me at all... and, and... you can just... leave."

By now, the volume of your voice had lowered to a somewhat normal level, your heart still thundering as your rage subsided, having unleashed a tirade of emotions and feelings which you'd obviously bottled up, some clearly longer than others.

The realisation of how you'd spoken to your General was dawning on you, and an intense fear began to spike. Fuck! Now was the time when you figured you should have just kept your mouth shut. Maybe asked him politely to leave and that you'd talk to him another time. How would he react now? Would heactually leave when, in fact, now you were scared of him doing that for fear of him leaving in anger and suddenly the tables would be turned again.

Your eyes never left one another. Fear pumped through you, wondering if you'd fucked everything up, hating every moment of what was happening, hating arguing, hating feeling resentful towards him. You wanted everything to go away, for you to be able to just turn around, climb back into bed and close your eyes, and for things to be normal and stable when you opened them again.

.

.

.

"You're right..." he said quietly.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. Had you heard him right? You said nothing, waiting to see what he would say next. Neither of you spoke for a good few minutes, but it grew tiresome, being the one to steer the conversation all the time, so you sat down on the edge of the bed and just waited, eager to see how he would handle this.

His eyes had been examining the floor, or his shoes, or whatever had kept his eyes drawn south, clearly avoiding any visual contact. In a sheepish manner, he raised his head to look at you while shuffling his feet forward clumsily, coming to sit down next to you on the bed.

Finally, he spoke.

"Everything you said is true. I am a jackass. And… to be honest, I do not know why."

You remained still and silent. You felt for him and the things he had been through, but it shouldn't be used to pardon his thoughtless actions.

You stayed firm, staring at him with an unyielding expression. You were screaming inside. The great General looked out of sorts and didn't know where to look or what to do. He looked so uncertain, you almost felt bad for him. You had kind of expected him to be angry, full of rage. But in actuality, his eyes were practically devoid of emotion… devoid of anything .

"Are you… are you actually agreeing with me" you asked, feeling tall and confident, while his body, in contrast, was half slumped on the bed, his back bent, elbows resting on his legs with his head in his hands, fingers desperately attempting to massage his temples, trying to bring himself some stress relief, you imagined.

He rolled his head to the side to look at you, "... yes," he spoke eventually, "I'm agreeing with you, okay? I shouldn't have said those awful things to you, and of course I don't think that about you."

You raised your eyebrows and blinked a few times in succession. "Well… this is new."

"What?"

"The great General relinquishing control." you snickered.

He turned his gaze away, "This… this isn't easy for me."

You let your smirk drop as you put a hand on his arm. "I know..., but, it's okay to admit when you're wrong sometimes, you know. It's... it's healthy, even."

"One of life's greatest lessons I've learned is never to show weakness."

"It isn't a weakness. It shows great maturity to admit when you've been wrong."

"Really?"

"Really."

He straightened up. "How I spoke to you was wrong." he said and you gave him a small smile in return. "I'm jealous, okay? I got jealous. The idea of another man getting to see what wonderful smile of yours, to be with you and spend time with you when I couldn't. Of course I don't mind you going to the mess hall... I guess I've been selfish, wanting to keep you all to myself. The idea of someone else taking you away from me..."

You put your hands on his face, pulling it towards you, "No-one is gonna take me away. You got that? I'm in this... for the long haul." you reassured him

He leaned forward, pressing his lips into yours, "I don't know what came over me. I feel very possessive of you." he replied before pressing his forehead to yours.

Before you had a chance to even blink, he slipped himself down off the bed onto the floor and between your legs. You giggled as you watched him slide down your pyjama bottoms.

"Let me make it up to you?" he said, his hands exploring your thighs.

As much as you enjoyed his touch, you knew this day was all about him, or at least it should be. "This is your day though," you said, "I should be making you feel good."

"You already have," he answered, pulling off your pyjama bottoms and discarding them, "besides… you have no idea how much pleasure I receive simply from pleasuring you."

You weren't about to argue, so you flashed him another cheeky smile and laid back, relaxing into things as you thought about how fun make up sex could be.