Kylo felt the pilot's shoulder against Rey's cheek. The fabric coarse and worn to the touch. Jealousy surged throughout his frame, he realised that he was holding his breath. Gasping for air, grasping his new lightsaber he headed to the training room. The sweetness of her momentary contentment was poison to him as she found comfort in the arms of that arrogant pilot. Self-loathing swept over him, had their time together meant so little that she could just move on so swiftly? And with that particular man? Kylo knew exactly what lay beneath Dameron's bravado. He had breached his mind easily and seen the combination of ego mixed with the easy and reckless charm that so reminded him of his own father. Gamblers. Easy come, easy go. Fickle and shallow. Dameron was only in it for the glory and as soon as the tide turned Kylo felt sure that the much revered pilot would be gone in an instant. Why would anyone feel safe around such a man?
Sparring relentlessly for several hours left the dark knight exhausted, dismissing the guards he lay spent on the floor. The mats were cold and the pooling sweat cooled his damp uniform. Drained, he removed his helmet and gloves, spreading his fingers he looped them together and placed them behind his head. Closing his eyes his mind wandered, drifting away from the many "Dameron's" he had vanquished during his training session. He sensed the movement of the crew as they went about their duties. An emotional slideshow flashed through the young man's mind... anxiety, humour, anger and optimism rippled across consciousness. He had not done this in years. Just listened to the populace, he had always been too focussed on his own goals to take much notice of the people around him. Yet, there they were, so many individuals all with hopes and fears of their own.
Lulled by the steady stream of distant emotional chatter, his breathing and heartrate slowed. The gentle hum of the ventilation units sounded like the rustle of wind through a thousand trees. He felt the rough damp sand under his skin, the lapping of the waves of a large lake hypnotic and steady. Eyes closed his long limbs melted and his mind relaxed, flexing outwards.
She felt the sun warm on her face, the insistent murmur of the water on the sand, the gentle motion of the wind through the leaves. Enveloped in contentment, reluctant to break the spell Rey resisted any attempt to wake. Pressing her face into his shoulder she sighed with relief. He had come back for her, she was found. Voices penetrated her consciousness and prickled at her mind. She turned away from the sounds, the memories from the previous night gradually floating to the surface. There had been alcohol, definitely something acrid from a flask. There had been a campfire. Laughter, yes, she remembered a group of people. The Resistance. With a jolt she scrambled to a sitting position. The suns were bright, too bright... far too bright! Her head spinning. To her side lay a sleeping Poe Dameron, handsome even in sleep. But it was the wrong face. The wrong shoulder. Jumping to her feet she began to run. Rey had heard the lake, their lake, and felt the damp sand under her skin.
Out of breath, she paused to get her bearings. The forest whispered conspiratorially above her head. Disorientated, Rey slumped with her back to a large mossy tree. Desperately, she reached out to him. The sensations had been too vivid to have been a dream, it was Ben. She knew it. Closing her eyes she sank her head back into the rough bark and surged outwards through the Force. Chasing only the faintest glimmer she eventually opened her eyes to see his familiar dark form. He was lying on his back with his hands linked behind his head. A pose he had taken many times before. She blinked, confused. Gently she crept towards him. She observed his exhausted face and the dishevelled clothing. He had been fighting. Her gaze registered the blood on his shirt and the fresh bruising on his scarred face. The sunlight dappled across his face and a hint of a smile lingered at one corner of his mouth.
Why now? After cruelly blocking her for so long, how could this be? Edging closer, she concluded that he was actually asleep. Unable to stop herself, she gently knelt by his head. Looking down at him, she softly placed her long fingers over the bruised skin. The Force shimmered, she saw the wrecked training room and felt his buried despair at her absence. He turned his face into her hand, responding to the ebb and flow of the Force. Once more, the Light within the girl swirled across him. It encompassed him body and soul, pure and clean, the warmth saturated every fibre of his being. Once again, it pushed back the black restless ocean of the Dark Side. The boy sighed as a crushing weight was lifted from his heart, and he felt hope and light flooding in. Opening his eyes he thought he was still dreaming. Her brown eyes connected with his. For a fraction of a second they were transfixed.
Just as quickly, it was over.
Rey was alone in the woods again. On her knees amidst the rustling leaves. Alone, silently stifling her sorrow.
Kylo Ren leapt to his feet. Back in his training room the familiar conflict burned anew in his chest. How could he ever be free of this pain? His path forever shrouded in darkness and confusion. The knowledge that he only felt complete when he was with her, fought with the fear that he would not be able to follow her down her clear path to the Light. He could ever be enough for her, he was broken. Why would she even want him? Especially after he had abandoned her again.
As he covered his face with his hands he realised that once again she had healed his wounds. Staggering to the mirror that ran the length of the training room, he saw only the scar. The bruises were gone. Dazzled by the strength of her Light (and love?) for him, he pressed his forehead into his cold, smooth reflection. What did this mean?