Peace: it does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. it means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart.

-unknown

Crimson Lane - Chapter 17 - Daybreak

The swirling, tightening waves of tension pulled firmer and harder on Rey and her breath came in heaves, fighting the desire to let him break her now or to—

"Stop! Stop! Stop!"

He froze. Their ragged breathing filled the heavy silence.

"I can do better. Tell me what you like." He looked up from between her legs.

"It's not that." She tugged at his shoulders. "Can you come here?"

He nodded, but there was a twinge of hesitation in his movement, concern slicing across his brow. Wiping his mouth, he sidled up next to her, trying to meet her gaze, but falling short.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, not at all. It's amazing." She pushed his dishevelled hair away from his face and paused, biting her bottom lip. "But I want more… I want you , Ben."

Silence strained between them for a beat and then his hot lips smashed into hers, frantic and wanting, warm and soft, as urgency overshadowed gentleness. In the space of a breath, he had clambered on top of her, right arm dashing open the drawer of the bedside table as he searched for a condom.

With a nervous pulse in her belly, she reached her arm out to his, steadying him.

" Just you."

Kylo cocked his head to the side, a fleeting expression of concern pushed away by a restrained smile as his eyes widened.

"Rey?" his voice was low, gently reprimanding, but devilish at the same time.

"Just this once…" She forced herself to meet his gaze.

"It's risky," he said.

"It is."

"I want to." He pressed against her, the heat of him pulsing by her entrance, even she could feel the way her body called to him like a Siren song. "So much." He breathed against her ear. "But it's such a risk."

"Maybe, you could just pull out?"

His teeth flashed at her, crooked and delightfully imperfect and he let out a short laugh.

"Do you think you could do that?"

"With you?" he asked, arching his eyebrow. "It'd be difficult."

"Just at the start then?"

Kylo shifted his jaw, that hidden smile tugging at the sides of his mouth. She knew he liked the idea, even if he was the one playing safe.

"Okay," he breathed into her ear.

"I've never done it 'glove off' before."

He placed an innocent kiss on her lips. "Me neither."

Rey's muscles tensed and tingled with anticipation as his warm, caressing fingers slid up the side of her body, removing her jumper. She shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her, covering them both beneath the duvet, inside their own little cocoon.

The darkness of his eyes was brightened by the reflecting moonlight outside and she noticed how they scanned her face, taking in every freckle and curve until at last he came to meet her eyes and she lost herself in them. There was something so magical and natural to see him so clearly, staring back at her with wondrous rapture.

"Rey, are you sure this is what you want?"

She nodded. "I want you to make love to me." She moved her body, wriggling until the tip of him pressed bath-warm and stiff at her entrance. "Ben, I really, really want this."

One thumb brushed over her cheek to cup her jaw, and the other, so gentle, like he handled some wild and fleeting thing. His eyes never left hers as he pushed inside, slow and smooth, firm and filling.

Rey took a deep breath and braced herself; even though she was ready, there was always a moment of adjustment, but it did not mean displeasure or pain.

"Are you okay? If it's too—"

"Oh, now you ask me," she laughed.

His eyebrows pinched together, and he slowed.

"I was joking. Keep going, it's nice."

He kissed her again, even as the pressure of his girth and length reached their fill, and he smiled, a low unsteady breath slipping between his lips.

"You feel amazing," he said.

"So do you."

Silence; still and perfect, like a cloak of darkness hiding them from the world.

There was no one else now, Ben and her, wrapped together in every way. Disbelieving and wordless.

He rolled against her, and she tried to catch hold of the tender pleasure lapping inside, teasing her, so close to breaking. Always, his eyes on hers. Their bodies dancing closely, slow, swelling, swaying, like waves and wind and motion.

"I'm not going to last long," Ben said.

"Me neither," she replied, trying to hold back a subdued moan. "It feels…"

She clutched at him harder, her fingernails scratching the wide planes of his back, feeling the way his sinuous muscles rolled beneath his warm skin, the odd bump slipping under her fingertips, ragged and uneven, scars she supposed.

The yearning, swirling pleasure was driving deeper to her core, but it was different this time, with him inside her, like a wholeness that was missing before. His fingers slid between her legs, pressing tender places that forced her body to clench around him, forcing a primal groan from deep in her throat.

"Rey," Ben whispered into her ear, his body pushing hard into hers.

"Yes — oh," she moaned again, she was spinning into that vortex of lustrous pleasure.

"Rey, I…"

He stilled, words spirited away, the silence that finished returned her to the present, like someone had lassoed the moon she was floating away on. She came back into her body, achingly aware of how she needed him to release her. His face was flushed, the words he couldn't say hanging in the air.

But she heard them.

In that fleeting moment, she felt all the things he couldn't give voice to. The ones too soon to say, too raw and vulnerable. She saw them in the way he looked at her, like he had just seen all the stars in the sky for the first time, and that to him, this moment was love.

"I know," she whispered, unashamed by the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Why shouldn't she cry? She tried to hold back tears every day of her life, but these weren't the tears of pain or sadness, but of longing found.

They kissed again, bodies pulsing with fiery tension, trembling on the edge of a precipice they would collapse from together.

The tempo of his thrusts moved faster, his fingers urging her primal moans to their peak. And then the wave crashed over her, muscles unravelling after being wound to the point of breaking. She cried out, wrapping her legs around him, pushing against him as hard as she could while her body clenched and pulsed, another sigh into the sweat-laden trestles of his dark hair, panting and clutching.

"Fuck," he hissed and pulled out, spilling onto her abdomen.

His chest hovered above her ear, and she could hear his heartbeat strong and thunderous. Arms trembled as they wrapped around her once more, kissing her temple.

They were out of breath, foreheads touching, hearts pounding against one another.

"Did you get out in time?"

"Yeah... just." He laughed, cradling her face between his hands again, pressing warm passionate kisses against her lips. "That was fucking amazing!"

Rey smiled. Body flushed, skin wet and still drizzling with the evidence of their deed. Outside these doors there were monsters, blackmail and a storm of threats hanging over her.

She knew it was there still: Snoke, her debt, Poe and his newspaper, the parts of the story she feared Ben had hidden from her, but even amid those things, here, now , wrapped in his embrace, basking in the way his eyes peered at her with wonder and passion, she was —

Calm. The world around her softened, gossamer curtains, floating in the cool moonlight where a sliver of air whispered through the window, the street below silent and hollow, and Ben Solo, holding her close, kissing her, hugging her, loving her.

In this moment, she had all she'd ever wanted.

In this moment, she had peace.

-Six Years Ago -

(In the Winter of 2013, six months after Rey's attack)

Sunburnt grass and sea mist, Kylo always remembered the smell; sweaty summers, long days, sunrise over the ocean. It came flooding back to him as he sat slumped against the front wall of Luke's dojo.

He'd been sitting here for four hours now, first arriving when the stars still blazed in the sky and the pre-dawn temperature was at its coldest.

He'd watched the sun rise above the navy sea, the fleeting beauty enough to make him forget the way his body was stiff and aching, with bruised ribs and his clothes stained with dried blood.

As the world began to wake, gulls circled overhead, screeching their morning chorus and Kylo dipped his head against the wall, hands drooping over his bent knees, shuddering with a jolt every time he slipped into a microsleep.

People began to walk along the road; early morning campers, retirees, young mothers jogging with their prams, all of them flicking a single glance at him before speeding up or moving away. He couldn't blame them; he hadn't shaved in a month and God knows what he looked like after last night. He shifted, swearing at the sharp pain on his left side that had only gotten worse since sitting here. One cracked rib, maybe two. And then there were the welts on his back, moist and raw, the coolness of the dojo a balm to the skin.

"You think you can just walk out of here, like you owe me nothing?" Snoke had asked, almost incredulous.

Kylo knew justice would be swift and hard. He'd seen it delivered before. One minute you're asking to leave, the next, Snoke is standing over you as judge and jury, a handful of knights at the ready to tear you apart.

Once Kylo's body was hunched on the floor, spitting blood, Snoke came over and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Showed him everything. Every incriminating, sickening act he had done in Snoke's name. All of it a brand of horror to his heart.

Ever since that night he had He knew he was deep, he supposed he knew he was trapped, but it wasn't until that moment where he truly realised how fucked he was.

Which is why he was here at Luke's dojo.

His right hand fumbled around in his pocket. With a tap and a flick, he lifted a cigarette to his lips, relishing the crisp heat in his chest, watching it dissipate in the wind as he breathed out through his nose.

"I thought you quit."

Kylo jumped, stubbing the cigarette out as though he'd just been busted smoking in the school toilets. It was muscle memory, the fear of being reprimanded by Luke. Part of him still fell back to the boy who only wanted to impress him.

The other part didn't give a shit.

He pulled out another cigarette, testing a sly glance at Luke. "What is it to you, anyway?",

Luke wasn't even looking at him, those gentle eyes staring out to sea, with long, laboured breaths, meditating and trying to stay calm, he suspected. Kylo ignored him, attempting to light a fresh cigarette and scowling at the universe when his lighter would no longer spark.

He'd actually quit a year and a half ago, but last night was enough to throw anyone off the wagon.

"You look like shit." Luke gave him the once over. "Whose blood is that on your shirt?"

"Mine." Kylo glowered.

"Ha!" Luke guffawed with a smirk and searched for his keys.

Kylo had seen him on and off since the night he'd left home. At first, his uncle had pleaded for him to come home, to leave Snoke and not give into the dark world that Snoke was luring him into. He'd long since stopped that; he never asked him to come back or change, but he wasn't friendly either. If anything, Kylo suspected he was waiting for something to happen.

Like what had happened last night.

The door unlocked and Luke disappeared within, leaving Kylo alone out front, thinking this was the worst bloody decision of his life.

He was just about to leave when Luke popped his head out the door.

"Come in then, I'm not going to wait around all day for you."

Stepping into the old dojo was like falling into a memory: warm air filled with cedar, sandalwood, an underlying odour of bare feet and sweat, bamboo floorboards polished and perfect. The stark white walls of the dojo were still lined with photos and newspaper clippings, and along the back wall was a pristine cabinet of trophies and medals.

Luke pointed to his office at the end of the corridor, next to the toilets. "You can wait there. I've got a class starting in five."

Luke left, leaving him to meander into the main office alone. The room was dim, with a light layer of dust that danced in misty streaks of light. There were a few dozen trophies and plaques here, less polished and reading "Luke Skywalker, Grand Master". In between those, there were discoloured squares on the wall or gaps in the trophy cabinet where awards had been removed. He knew exactly which ones were missing.

"Yeah, well, it's mutual," Kylo thought bitterly.

The sound of doors opening to the dojo came from the hallway, followed by the gentle padding of bare feet, and then a collected shout, "Hei Sensei!" The class was starting. He was curious, and nostalgic, remembering when life was simpler and happy. It pulled him out of the office and through the corridor, where he passed a staff on the wall, made of perfectly sanded oak. The Bo staff was long and heavy, just the way he liked them. He took it, fingers brushing along the smooth length when the front door banged open.

He peered up, disinterested, but what he saw rammed him in the chest like a captive bolt pistol.

Three buns, freckles, scrawny as a scavenger. The girl. Kira . The one he'd left sobbing and crying on the kitchen floor of that abandoned hell hole only six months ago. She was the line he had crossed, and the reason he had tried to leave last night.

She opened the door again, waving outside, before kicking off her shoes. As she did, her eyes cast over him, deeming him uninteresting enough to ignore and she disappeared behind the double doors to the dojo.

Kylo fell against the side of the wall, sick and stunned by the fact she was here. If she had recognised him at that moment, she didn't show it; beyond the doors, he could hear the quiet muttering of, "sorry, Master Skywalker".

Light speared through the double doors, calling to him. He knew he shouldn't go, he had promised as much… and yet, each foot stepped in front of the other, urged on by some morbid curiosity, or rather… he just needed to know she was okay now.

Peering through the wire mesh windows, there were a dozen students of mixed grading, each of them focussed and controlled while performing the Kata, stepping forward, sideways, arms moving in sweeping, smooth motions, graceful in their slowness, deadly at speed. They moved in unison, the floorboards creaking in a slow song. They were faceless and unremarkable, except for one.

Her outline was framed by the gentle glow of the sun trickling through the sliding screens, diffusing the glaring morning light with a luminous opal-white. He opened the door, stepping past the threshold. Students stopped, gazes flickering to each other. Kylo stole a glance along the wall-length mirror of the dojo. No wonder they had stopped; he was a nightmare in a place of brightness and peace, dressed in black from head to toe, an unkempt beard, hair messy and his t-shirt sticking to his chest in dark stains, reeking with the acerbic tinge of copper and salt.

"I'm sure some of you remember my nephew?"

A smattering of voices, a nod here and there, and silence.

Kylo shifted. He'd hoped to slip in unnoticed.

"We were only discussing moments ago, the difference between Kyokushin and Shokotan."

Ben felt the skin beneath his eye twitch, and now his attention was on Luke.

"For the most part, we practise Shokotan here, but my students would appreciate seeing a presentation between two Kyokushin black belts. What do you say?"

"I don't do karate anymore."

"One never forgets though, do they?" Luke stepped forward, hands fisted, coming at him in lithe, darting movements. Surely, he wasn't going to…

Kylo shook his head, but it was too late. Luke sent a kick his way, fast and precise; had he hit Kylo in the ribs he would have fallen to his knees, but he missed his target and Kylo bounced back, returning the move with a series of hits, finishing with a strong side kick, connecting with Luke's hip and sending him stumbling.

Luke chuckled through the pain. "Good."

They continued a while longer, until Kylo's brow was lined with sweat and Luke was becoming slow and clumsy. With a wave of Luke's hand, the exhibition stopped, and he turned to address his students.

"Ben here is probably one of the most talented Koyokshin opponents you will face this side of the country, but what does he lack?"

A girl raised her hand; she was plump, with curly blond hair and her yellow belt. "You both forgot to bow."

Muffled laughter.

"Very observant, Claire, but that wasn't quite what I was looking for. Anyone?"

Another hand raised and this time the voice was quiet. Kylo stopped breathing.

"He is sacrificing precision for strength."

Luke smiled, throwing Kylo a sly glance.

"Why do you think he did that, Kira?"

She flushed again, head lowered, feet shuffling. "It could be his training, but he's probably just trying to intimidate you into faltering." She looked up at him now, those hazel eyes like hail storm clouds in the twilight. He'd heard the edge of disgust in her voice.

"Okay, show time's over. Pair up and spar. Don't be afraid to go hard today, in honour of our Kyokushin friend here."

Luke came to face Kylo, who was watching the class spar, but in truth was watching her. Did she suspect?

"You've gotten sloppy. Is that what Snoke teaches you then?"

The words only half-filtered through. Beyond Luke, the class was teaming up, with one very obvious exception. He didn't mean to make that face, the one where his lips curl in like he'd tasted bitter lemons and his dark eyes glared, but he had and Luke knew what it meant.

Luke turned to face Kylo. The class had split into pairs, even trios, their bo staffs slapping against each other in slow, careful movements, except for Kira, who stood alone, hugging her elbow and searching for a partner, when it was obvious no one would spar with her, she began working through the motions of the kata by herself.

"Really, people?" Luke scolded. "Is that the best you can do?"

And then Kylo was before her. Possessed, apparently. He kept being drawn back to her, like he hadn't finished with her yet… Every night since Snoke had ordered him to hurt her, he had seen the face of that young girl; alone, abandoned and incredibly frightened. All she needed was help, but instead, the predators were lurking at her door.

And he was a predator.

"You need a partner."

She hesitated, looking to the side and spinning the staff around in her fingers, and she gnawed on her lip in consideration.

Perhaps she recognised him… No, she couldn't have. He'd had worn a mask, it was dark, there was no way ...

She nodded.

"Okay, when you're ready."

She looked at his feet, and then up, and up, and up his body, stopping at his face, eyes narrowing, nostrils flaring, her lips parted, but they were tight and her breathing was heavy, almost like she was about to charge!

And she did, like a wildcat with a cry, she leapt at him with the grace of a cheetah on the hunt, staff spinning wildly before it connected with his own.

Crack! Their bo staffs slammed against each other, forming the shape of a cross guard. They pulled apart, chests heaving.

"Again," she snapped.

"Okay, on three. One, two—"

This time the only thing that Kylo saw before she got him across the back was a fleeting flick of her brown hair against the crisp white of her Skywalker studio uniform. His instincts kicked in, and as she turned, he shot out his fist in a swift punch to the shoulder.

He heard a strangled "oof", and she stumbled, rubbing her shoulder.

"Fuck," he said instead of sorry. Had he really punched her? He took a step towards her, hands placating; the least he could do was apologise. Kira had gone still, clutching her shoulder, eyes downcast.

Guilt tore at him. "Hey, are you—"

He didn't see it coming. The slice of her leg was like something out of a nature documentary; fast, precise, almost deadly.

Kylo doubled over, clutching his side and groaning. The tender bruising around his ribs exploded into pain and tears stung his eyes, as he breathed through clenched teeth.

"Good hit," he hissed.

"You were protecting that spot before, when you were fighting with Luke..."

"Right," he groaned, trying to drag his body up to full height.

"Are you ready to go again?"

"Wait, what?"

Her battle cry sounded so loud that the rest of the class stopped what they were doing and gaped. Kylo would never say he cowered, but his one arm covered his side while the other held his staff aloft, ready to take her oncoming onslaught.

His shoulders, thigh, chest, abdomen, block, block, block. She was ferocious, darting around him, focused on the kill. She was about to aim for his ribs again when Luke intervened between them, meeting her staff with his own with another crack and the room went deathly quiet.

"Kira," Luke whispered.

She froze, caged between them, those narrowed eyes still fixed on her targeted kill. Kylo couldn't face her.

Did she know who he was, or was she just… capable?

If nothing else, he knew she would be okay. She was strong.

She glanced at Luke before slowly moving back to Kylo, weapon still at the ready.

"He's not your enemy, Kira." Luke's voice sounded old and tired as he took her staff in his free hand. "If you look for your demons in everyone, you will surely find them."

She shook her head, so slight a movement Kylo could have thought she shivered. But Luke stepped closer again, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This man is not your enemy."

Kylo wasn't breathing; his chest felt like it would explode.

She knows, she knows, she knows.

At last, she released a catch of breath, shoulders drooping.

"I'm sorry, Master Skywalker," she mumbled, hardly raising her eyes. "It won't happen again."

"It happens every week!"

"She always takes it too far."

"No wonder no one will spar with her."

One by one, the students spoke up, each time murmuring agreement.

"I'm sorry," she said, both to Kylo and the surrounding spectators before she ran out of the dojo doors.

The tension in the room released and his students began to talk at once in petty, accusatory tones.

"Okay people, the drama's over," Luke growled at them. "Get yourselves a drink. Don't mind Kira. She does that to everyone."

Kylo felt something release in his chest and he wobbled a little, still overwhelmed by the pain in his side.

"She's had a traumatic background. Got caught up in something bigger than herself, you know how it is. We've been trying to help her through it, but it's been difficult for her."

The words hit him like a frozen icefall. A traumatic background. He was her traumatic background, the reason why no one would spar with her; why, when presented with a man attacking her, something snapped and she lost herself in that dark place.

He had done that to her. He had destroyed her fucking life!

Kylo nodded.

"She will be okay. She's smart, resilient, strong. I have no doubt…"

"She should change her name," Kylo interrupted.

"What?"

"You said she'd gotten caught up in something bigger than herself. These things have a habit of coming back to hunt you. Tell her to change her name."

"Like you did?"

"No," he said lowly. "Not like I did."

Luke scratched his chin, considering him. "I'll suggest it to her. Now, what did you want to see me about?"

Kylo dragged his eyes away from the door, his thoughts ripping from the girl who was probably sobbing in the bathroom to what had happened to him last night. Snoke had crossed the line when he'd sent Kylo after Kira. He could cope with beating up criminals and addicts, something in his brain reassured him he was doing them a favour in some twisted way, but a sixteen-year-old girl… he hadn't signed up for that shit.

"I—" he fumbled, shifting his gaze around wearily. He hated coming to Luke for help, but he knew enough to realise the only way he would be free of Snoke was in a body bag. "I need to get out of this… I—"

...Made a mistake. I made a shitload of mistakes and now I'm too far fucked to come back, but not fucked enough to stay.

That is what he would have said, but instead, the door of the dojo swung open with a smash and a voice so shrill it felt like it pierced his eardrums boomed through the training room.

"Ben Solo!" Maz stormed over to him, each step tapping with the sound of her cane. Her finger pointed to him accusingly and possibly would have gouged his eye out had Luke not been there.

"Maz!" Luke leaned down to give her a hug, but she ignored him, eyes like a huntress, locked on Ben Solo and salivating.

"I told you not to go looking for her."

Luke was taken aback. "What are you talking about, Maz? Ben?"

"You promised me!"

Ben bristled. "I didn't know she was here, Maz—"

"You've got some hell of a nerve, Solo!"

"I didn't know—"

"Oh, the nights I've had to sit by her bed just so she can damn well sleep. She carries a knife now, everywhere she goes. She even sleeps with it under her pillow. A knife! Solo!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Kylo noticed the other students shuffle backwards, muttering to each other.

"Maz, I—"

"And you come down here, for what? To traumatise her some more?"

Ben began to panic. Kira would be back soon.

"Will you keep your fucking voice down?"

"Don't talk to her like that," Luke scolded. "What are you talking about, Maz?"

"The gang of thugs who attacked Kira."

"What!?" Luke hissed, glaring at Ben.

"Who do you think led the whole thing? Who dragged her into the kitchen screaming and terrified?"

Luke raked his hands down his face. "God, Ben, tell me it wasn't you."

"I didn't have a choice," Ben hissed. At that moment, the door pushed open again and Kira appeared, red-eyed and weary.

"She's a sixteen-year-old girl, Ben! What are you now, twenty-four?… I can't even comprehend in what reality you can justify what you've done here." Luke stopped himself, pausing to breathe. "Just leave here."

"Wait," Kylo was desperate now, "I need your help…"

"No, Ben. I help my students learn to overcome their demons. I don't invite the demons in."

"But I—"

Luke's face was dark and resolved, arms folded. Kylo knew that look; there was no coming back for him now.

"You heard him, get out of here and leave Kira alone," Maz followed up.

Kylo glared at them both, nostrils flaring, blood pressure rising. It was times like this he would have lost his cool, there would have been broken glass and holes in the wall. But at least now, he had learnt to hold it back. Just enough.

"Fuck the both of you!" he shouted as he stormed out the door.

Kira passed him at the door, drinking her water bottle, looking at her phone. From here he could see her scrolling pictures of beaches and islands, eyes incriminatingly red. Then she looked up at him and dropped it.

He didn't pick it up for her.

"Good fucking luck with those two looking out for you."

"What?" she asked, bending down to get it, tenderly searching the glass to make sure it wasn't broken.

He passed her and was almost out the door when her voice trailed after him.

"Hey." She was in the corridor now. He couldn't even look at her. "Thanks back there. It was nice to have a sparring partner who could at least hold their own."

He nodded, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well," she smirked. "Kind of."

That smirk was the last thing he remembered.

The one he hadn't connected to her until now.

And there she was lying in front of him, bare shoulders, mascara smudged, tangled hair.

Even in her sleep, she smiled at him. Kylo felt a tender yearning wrap around his heart as he watched her. How could he have forgotten her? It was six years ago, she was different now; the shapeless, gangly teenager was a woman with high cheekbones and curves. But it was still her.

If he wanted to justify it, he could argue that she changed her name, that he'd barely looked at her that first night, how his eyes and thoughts only focussed on her body. That for a long time, he had stopped seeing, anyone. Before her, the world moved around him in shapeless forms of muted grey. Push it all away. That's all he ever did, anything was better than facing what his life had become.

Perhaps if he had tried to see beyond his next fix, beneath the sexy underwear and proud chin, there was a still a scared little girl, one who was equal parts fiery and fearful.

It was six years ago, but now those six years felt like six minutes. He saw the girl, her hands and legs bound, messy buns, tears streaming down her face as she cried for him to stop, that he was hurting her too much.

Kylo swallowed a mouthful of bile at the thought.

And then to the present time, when she was his hooker for the night. A woman he could barely look at, a vessel of his pain, frozen and stiff beneath him as he pounded into her, staring at the bed head as he always had.

"Stop! It hurts too much!" she'd cried out, forcing him to look at her. To see her. It had wrenched him back from that dark place. The memory had hit with the force of a hammer blow. He'd frozen, not knowing what to do.

Did he remember her then? Part of him believed he had, the other part denied it because she had escaped, hadn't she? He'd ensured that happened; Snoke could never have found her and used her again.

And yet he had, and he did, in the worst possible way.

Kylo had held her into the early hours, kissing her back, pleasuring her body. It was an apology of sorts, a promise he would protect her to the very end. The fact that he had fallen in love —-

A muffled laugh escaped her lips and the skin above her nose wrinkled into lines.

"How long have you been awake?" Kylo asked, grimacing at the thought of how long he'd been staring at her.

"A little while," she squeezed out. "How long have you been staring at me like a weirdo?"

"A while." He slipped his palm over the curve of her waist, caressing his fingers against her skin. "You're beautiful when you're asleep."

This made her laugh, a single incredulous outburst as she rolled onto her back and slid across to him, nuzzling her head against his bare shoulder. His spare hand traced the line of her collar bone, to the hollow of her neck.

"Are you working today?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Her nails traced across his shoulder blades. "Not at the restaurant, no."

"So, you don't need to run away then?" He shot her a cursory glance, checking for a reaction as his head bobbed down from her neck to her shoulders, to her breast, sweeping his tongue around her nipple and sucking until he heard that telltale moan of pleasure, the slight arch of the back, intake of her breath, her nails scratching harder.

He climbed on top of her, hungry for more, rolling his erect cock against her centre, arms flanked either side of her head. The way she looked at him, the sunlight glistening in her eyes, cheeks flushed, the tan lines separating the weathered colour of her arms from the milky layer normally hidden beneath her clothes. It was perfect. He swept the stray curls threatening to fall across her eyes and her lips pressed together in a peaceful smile.

It was a knife to his chest.

A lie.

She wouldn't get any peace from him.

He had to tell her.

"What are you proposing?" she asked, trailing her fingers over his abdomen. "I suppose I could squeeze you into my morning if you make it worth my while—-"

Her eyes narrowed, studious with a hint of suspicion. He had stopped moving against her, stopped everything.

Too obvious. Too late.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

It felt like a building had collapsed onto his chest. He was in the dark, scrambling for a way to hope, trapped in the wreckage, in the dark… She'd hate him for it —

"Ben, you can tell me anything, you know?"

Not this, Rey. Never this.

"Tell me," she whispered, an uneven arch to her eyebrows, her whole face a little off-kilter.

"There is… something," he began to choke out the words; they clung in his throat, strangling him.

Her body settled into him, ear to his chest, light fingers twiddling at the few dark hairs by his nipple. "What is it?"

"There… we've… we've met before."

He was falling, no, plummeting, to the earth. His heart pounded against the walls of his chest.

"...before Crimson Lane," the words tumbled out. He couldn't look at her.

She didn't say anything, holding onto that long, awkward, thoughtful silence.

Kylo continued, "You were much younger. You'd asked me how I knew you studied with Luke..."

Her eyes widened, slow at first and then — a moment of recognition; body tense, her smile disappeared into his memory.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

Kylo froze.

" Oh my God! "

Her gaze scrambled across his face, as though she were searching for something.

Panic poured through him. "Rey, I know—"

"You!" She sat up, her left arm covering her chest, the other clasped over her mouth.

"It was six years ago…"

"You!" she cried out again.

His throat was closing, and his eyes stung.

"You were at the dojo! Ben—" She grabbed his hands, pulling them into her lap. "Ben, I remember. You looked so different back then, you had a goatee and your hair was much longer, but I remember now, it was you. The only one who would spar with me."

His lungs wrung of air, and he was left wordless while she beamed at him.

"I can't believe I didn't recognise you," she gushed at him. "It's so crazy, because I do remember it so well now. I just, I don't know, I've been asleep. Or at least I was asleep then, I was in such a bad place, Ben. But you, I remember."

Ben nodded, vision blurry.

"Do you remember me?" she asked.

"Just now," he lied.

"That's crazy! Imagine if you would have stayed? We could have become friends. We could have… " She shook her head, a smile pushing its way onto her face, bright in the morning light. "We could have found each other sooner…"

He nodded. Even now she would give him this; compassion, hope.

"We wouldn't have been alone, Ben. We would have had each other."

"Rey," he whispered, unable to even meet her eyes.

She kissed him, lips salty, cheeks wet. "Ben. You really helped me that day."

"Don't."

"No, really. I know it's stupid, but somehow you woke me up! Before that day I had just gone through the motions. No one would spar with me, or talk to me in fact, but you — you roused me."

He would have stopped her, ripped apart that misguided fantasy that he was there to help. The only reason he was there that day was to help his fucking self. The fact that she was there had nothing to do with any of it.

A low, monotone buzz of a telephone started ringing, and she gawked at him a moment. "I thought your phone was broken?"

It rung again.

"Is there an internal phone?" She got up and pulled a phone from out of the desk drawer. "Ha! Who knew?"

He was going to beg her to stop, to wait until he had told her this, but in an instant, she had the receiver in her hand and was saying hello with that sunbeam voice of hers.

She paused, face dropping. "What?"

"Who is it?" Kylo asked.

Rey shook her head, indicating him to be quiet. "No, I didn't realise."

Kylo stiffened. There were only so many people who would use this phone. He moved to be with her when she covered the mouthpiece and mouthed the words " Just Rose."

"Yeah, of course. Okay. Thanks for the warning. Love ya, Rose."

She hung up the phone, teeth grazing over her bottom lip.

"Rose said Snoke's coming in sometime before nine. Phasma said he wants to see us both."

Kylo looked at the side table clock, at the red numbers subdued in the morning light. "Less than an hour away."

Rey swallowed. "Do you think we can get out of here? Before he gets back?"

Kylo nodded; he probably wanted to see Snoke even less than she did. Last night was not about to go unpunished. "Let's grab your things. I'll drive you home."

Both of them scrambled around the room, Rey messily shoving her belongings into a backpack, while Kylo worked methodically and precisely, folding clothes, putting them back in the wardrobe. He was finished much sooner than she was, leaning against the fireplace, keys in hand, a half-smile settling his expression into something gentle.

"Godammit, where's my damn phone?" she shrieked, tearing through the room like a mini tornado, pulling up the duvet and throwing pillows.

He chuckled, and she glared at him. "Don't you laugh, I'm blaming you entirely."

"I'm sure," he said, giving her a dramatic yawn before tapping his finger on his wrist.

"Oh, piss off!" she spat, but her laughter filtered out far too easily, and the expression washed over her face, star-studded dimples and half-moon eyes, and wrinkles above her nose.

He loved her for it, in his way.

She stuck her tongue out at him and returned to her frenzied panic.

And at that moment he made her a promise he hid away for now. His plans had been coming together these last few days; he'd booked the tickets and settled her rent payments. And at some point this morning, he would tell her she need never come back to this. That from tonight, she would be free.

He would tell her all of it, today, this morning, and hope to God she'd try to understand...

[ENDS]

Aye! 27 days. I'm not quite sure what happened there. Bouts of sickness, work commitments, the usual RL stuff. So sorry to keep you all waiting.

Huge thank you to those of you who commented on my last chapter, I'm really sorry I just realised that I hadn't gotten back to you. Promise I will next time.

This chapter references some points that have been made previously. In case you want to brush up on them, you can find them here:

Chapter 2 - The Night Shift, Rey and Kylo's first night together.
Chapter 4 - Uninvited, the first reference of Rey as Kira.
Chapter 11 - The Traitor, Rey tells Poe about Kylo's attack

Bet strap on for these next few chapters. ;)