AN hello you naughty children are you ready to sin.

A couple important things to note: this story will have no capitalization because I'm feeling artsy and literally no one can stop me. Also this is not what you would call a happy Reylo story. This is going to be a study of the unhealthy aspects of their relationship. It's going to be great.

rey met him at a work party. not her work party, but finn's. he had needed a plus one and she needed to get out of her apartment, so she scrounged up a black dress and some heels and a smile and then latched herself onto his arm.

finn's life was perfect, lovely and glossy and reflecting everything rey wanted. he worked in a skyscraper with lots of glass and chrome, wore fine suits and had perfect posture, smiled and laughed and had no worries. rey had worries. she worried about money, about appearances, about never being more than enough.

she let finn wander off to socialize and possibly climb that infamous business social ladder, while she drifted off to the bar. she people watched, admiring the sharp suit lines, the polished shoes, the just-so haircuts. she never knew how they did that, cut out all the sloppiness of life and still look human.

she didn't notice that while she people watched, one of the people was watching her.

"you look like you have something you want to say."

she jumped at the voice, low and just quiet enough to stand out from the rest of the noise. she turned to find a man sitting at the other end of the bar. if ravens were men, this was one. he wore a black suit with a black shirt and black shoes and black hair. he was perfect in the way finn was perfect, but more. perfect in the way a straight razor was perfect, perfect in the way a finger of whiskey was perfect, perfect in the way lonely was perfect. perfect in the way he knew was perfect.

"i didn't think i did," she said, raising an eyebrow because coy was very easy when it only lasted a few seconds.

he smiled, hand on his drink like it was a prize, a prop, a bargaining chip. "i don't think that's true. i think you want to say something i want to hear."

rey's mouth split into a smile that was the crimson of a girl that didn't live in a sty, didn't always have motor oil under her fingernails, didn't despair of ever getting ahead of the bills and the bills and the bills that stacked in her mailbox.

"and what do you want to hear?"

"whatever you have to say," he told her, like every word she uttered was some secret, scandalous truth.

she told finn she was leaving early. he looked concerned, but she batted it away with mumbles about finding a ride of herself.

the ride was the raven man, kylo. she climbed into his expensive, glossy black car and let him whisk her away before the clock struck midnight. the entire ride was electric, the air crackling with every move. they kept up their banter combat foreplay, off the road and out of the car and up the steps and through the door and into his pristine living room. the whole apartment was shades of black and white, naturally, too clean and sharply detailed for real people to be in.

but rey was a real person, not perfect at all, and he didn't mind her at all as he laid his lips on her skin and his hands on her dress.

little black dresses looked wonderful at parties, but they looked even better crumpled on kylo's floor.

for all his cool words and hiemal smiles, there was something in kylo that burned. she felt it in his hands as he kissed her, his fingertips and his palms searing into the skin of her shoulder and neck and backside and legs. he touched her the way precious things were meant to be touched—completely or not at all.

she clenched his hair in her fist as he laid open-mouthed kisses on her throat, his impossibly tall frame bent toward her like she was magnetic, like he only needed her and the touch she could give. he worked across her collarbone and down to her breast. he traced her bra and panties with a thumb, and she hated that they were virgin white, boring white, rey white. but his coal black eyes burned suggestions into her, and made it very clear he cared only about getting them off.

the next morning was hazier than rey would have liked. she remembered last night, but now the world seemed to be viewed from behind a foggy glass. she blinked a few times, grimacing as sleep cluttered her eyes and a hangover clouded her brain and sheets kept her from moving.

kylo was still asleep beside her. he seemed even bigger than he had last night, his arms and legs spread out on the bed. rey was trapped in them, her body tangled with his until she wasn't quite sure which were her limbs.

it was nice, that sense of belonging, no matter how slight.

"what are we doing?" rey's voice sounded small, even to her own ears. she closed her eyes as the words were swallowed by the enormous black nothingness of kylo's room at night. she'd been there twice and then once more and she still had no idea what it meant. she scrounged out a living as an assistant and sometimes mechanic in a tiny auto shop, a life filled with grease and dust and sweat and just barely being enough. there was never any reason for kylo to look at her and keep coming back.

"we're having fun," he told her. "or at least, i am."

she rolled her eyes and gave kind of a scoff. "we can't just keep doing this, meeting whenever—"

whenever one of them was feeling lonely or horny or bored or whatever the hell it was that made them keep calling each other. but she wasn't brave enough to say that, because maybe he would realize that this was all nonsense and stop calling altogether.

"i think we could," he said, rolling over to trace her collarbone. rey shivered at his feather touch and feather words. "i think we could keep going on forever like this. keeps it simple. no attachments."
she looked at him, and it was only when she caught the edge of his smirk did she realize he had been testing her. she probably failed, then.

"and that's what you want?" she bit back, voice perfectly mild. "no complications. just a tidy, clean life you can pull people out of whenever you want."

"yes."

rey was quite for a long moment. there was something terribly alluring to how he said yes. yes, he didn't care about the implications, yes he was fine moving people around like game pieces, yes he liked being unattached. there was a power to knowing yourself and being satisfied with it. it must have sucked out all of the sting whenever someone tried to call him a monster.

"you must get bored, controlling everything," she said softly.

she could feel kylo's eyes fix on her in the dark.

"i'm not bored with you," he murmured, and it sounded as true as before.

rey closed her eyes, heart beating all the faster.

this was how it went—mostly, rey did things like normal. she did whatever odd jobs unkar plutt needed around the auto shop. she kept whatever money she made locked in a fist. she spent time with finn and sometimes poe. she texted kylo when she couldn't tell herself no anymore.

he didn't seem to mind. she could hear it in his voice whenever he answered the phone, the tiny 'hm' that was almost a laugh. he would say, yes, fine, come over and rey would put on some of her better clothes and fix her hair and tell herself it was totally normal to take the bus for the half step up from a booty call. the grime on the bus windows and the stickiness of the seats seemed to follow her down the road and up the steps to his apartment, clinging to her skin like that was all she was, the sludge humanity left behind. and then he would open his door and it was like she was washed clean. the sharp lines of his apartment cut off her ugly bits until she was something strange and alluring and strong.

but that was only on rare occasions, when she couldn't tell herself no. because kylo felt like a secret or a trick, something too glossy and fine to be real. the way to him was paved by black opals, and the same way back was marked by nothing but soot. it was too good, something in her whispered, he was too good. there had to be a cost.

if she was being honest, though, she couldn't see what the cost was, and that probably scared her more than anything.

"rey, will you please tell me your schedule is clear this week," finn said, shooting her a disapproving look over his drink. they were all huddled around a little table in a coffee shop that poe apparently loved. rey didn't actually know poe all that well—yes they knew each other and they talked and she had taken care of his dog as a favor for finn (he was an adorable white pomeranian named 'bebe' that rey had tried desperately hard not to love), but that was it. poe was the friend of a friend to her and they all knew it. but finn was a link in the very short chain of things important to rey, and she would do most things to keep him. feeding kindness to the starved tended to do that.

"i've been busy, is all," rey said. she took a drink, hoping the boys didn't notice that her swallows were bigger than usual. kylo had texted her earlier, and he hadn't said it in so many words but she was hoping he would come over tonight. the instances he came to her apartment were few and she wanted them to be particularly memorable. junk piled in counters was not memorable.

"come on, though," poe insisted. "i'm going to be gone basically for the next three weeks. let's do something before i go."

"you're going to be flying to morocco or wherever, though," rey said, raising an eyebrow. "it's not like you're going to be sitting around, twiddling your thumbs."

poe was the pilot for some very charming airline that took people to exotic places. rey loved and hated talking about it because she could taste the differentness of the world on her tongue but also hated it because it was just a taste, never a mouthful.

"that's tourist stuff," poe said, easily waving her words away like they meant nothing. "i wanna do something that means something. what's got you so busy, anyway?"

"i…i dunno, things are just crazy right now," she said, suddenly tired of all this. she didn't want to sit around in this drab little coffee shop, drinking her irritating little coffee, listening to the same little jokes and bites of conversation she always did. she was tired of being reminded that her life was nothing on its own.

"here's a question—when are you actually going to start meeting people other than us?" finn asked.

"when i feel like it."

"rey, your last date was lightyears ago, you can't—"

"i can, actually."

"right. if you keep embracing this…vintage hobo chic thing you've got going on—"

"'chic' is a stretch," poe noted over his coffee.

"—then someone's going to believe it. live it up a little, go to bars, talk to people, stop dressing like you're about to go back to the coal mines."

"leave it, please."

"no, i'm serious." finn gave her that wide-eyed, hatefully sincere look. it was the look that landed him promotions and control over projects and it was something rey resented not knowing how to do. she wondered if kylo had ever had to do that. then again, that implied there was a time when kylo's requests were taken as anything other than orders. "rey, i don't want to see another year pass you by. you could do so much if you just—"

"i am trying, finn."

"i dunno, maybe a boyfriend could come along. just—"

"i don't need you to remind me how behind i am at this…" she waved her hand in a short, irritated wave. the mention of 'boyfriend' made her want to be gone all the more. "…thing called 'life'."

"hey," poe said scenting something on the air that finn ignored. "rey, we're not—"

"rey, it's not a competition," finn laughed.

"then stop acting like i'm some damn loser or something! it's hard enough trying to get through as is, i don't need any pity right now!"

they stared at her in silence. the coffeeshop clattered on, reminding her just how very small she was in all of this.

"i wasn't…trying to make it feel like pity," finn said quietly.

poe took a sip from his cup. he watched them, but he didn't meet either of their eyes.

"i should go," rey said after a moment. "sorry. things to do."

she got up and left the table, not looking back. her stomach twisted in confused knots as she walked to the door. that hadn't gone the way she would have liked. she should go back, maybe, try again, explain it better, apologize, even.

"rey? rey, wait up."

she pressed her lips together as finn called after her. she was pulled in two directions, the door and obligation tugging tugging tugging until she stayed put.

finn caught up to her, hand on her arm.

"hey, are you alright?"

"yes, fine, thanks."

"okay, but you kinda blew up back there, and…i dunno. i didn't mean to upset you."

"of course not." her phone burned in her pocket, ticking down the time.

"i…what did i say that bothered you? is it…do you have a boyfriend?" finn asked, expression so painfully earnest.

"i…uhm, well…" kylo didn't count as a boyfriend, the word was silly and hollow and…not kylo.

finn's face lit up, sunshine and triumph. "oh yeah, i knew it. how long? this is big to keep!"

rey shrugged. a few more steps to the door, that was all it would take to get out of the entryway, but finn was on her now, eager for details and answers and things she had not given him for a reason.

"seriously, tell me more! i wanna know about this guy."

"there's not much to know."

mostly because Rey didn't know him beyond appearances and how he made her bones melt.

"do we get to meet him?"

"i…ah, i don't really know if you should—"

"is this serious, or—"

"finn, really, just let it go—"

"rey, i will not let this go, how long have you been seeing mystery man—"

"kylo, it's kylo," she blurted, just to make him stop.

"ky—what?" finn frowned, searching through his memory bank. tick tick tick, time wasting with each word. "kylo who?"

it shouldn't have been hard for him to guess, kylo had recognized finn when she mentioned him, then laughed.

i heard he started as a janitor, he had said, then kissed the rest of her words from her mouth.

"kylo ren," she said, jaw locking around the sounds. "from work."

"from your—from mine?!"

she glanced around at his gasp of breath, suddenly embarrassed. there were too many people, too many plain, ordinary, boring people. there was something about talking about kylo here that cheapened the name, somehow, made it less impressive. charcoal, instead of obsidian.

finn stared at her, sunshine and triumph forgotten. he looked wounded, somehow, shock and confusion crossing his face.

"kylo from the legal department? when did you…"

"at the party."

the party of months ago. she could see the time lost on his face, the flinch of hurt he swallowed in favor of growing alarm.

"rey…he's…he's not exactly the kind of guy you want to hang around. i heard he threw a paperweight through a computer screen when he lost a case. completely through it! are you sure—"

"it's fine, finn," she insisted, shaking her head. through a computer screen, what gossip. no one could do that. "we've been together a couple months now, it's fine."

"months," he repeated. maybe he hadn't figured the time, then. he still looked a little winded, falling back a step like he needed to find better footing before he continued.

"anyway," she said quickly, "i wasn't kidding earlier. i really should get going."

"uhm…okay." he smiled again, a little thinner this time, a little quicker to drop. "yeah, uh, sure. i'll…i'll tell poe, then."

rey flashed him a quick smile and backed away. it wasn't really a goodbye, but he didn't look capable of stringing together sentences that weren't shocked questions.

she would have liked a better introduction to the subject, but in the months since she and kylo had started sleeping together—seeing each other—dating—whatever—since they started being them, she had never found the right moment. had never found perfect.

she probably wouldn't. finn was perfect, of course, he was far more pulled together on his own that rey ever could be, but she was starting to wonder if his was the kind of perfect she wanted.