Soft light filled the room as the recessed lamps lining the metal walls brightened to a dim glow, signalling the arrival of morning on the Finalizer. The artificial warmth falling across Rey's features stroked the edges of her mind, bringing her out of a deep, peaceful sleep. Eyes still closed, not wanting to be awake, her body registered the excess heat along her side, beneath her palm – against her cheek. Not enough to be uncomfortable, in fact, the sensation was so calming she nearly fell back asleep – huddling even closer and holding on a little tighter as she did so.

An almost inaudible intake of breath below her jerked her senses back from the edge. As quiet as it was, strain was evident in the way the muscles underneath her touch had tensed, and the slow rise and fall that had lulled her to sleep suddenly halted.

Muscles?

Breathing?

.

.

Kylo.

Her own breath stopped momentarily as she remembered the night before, eyes clenched shut even tighter– unwilling to confirm that she was indeed curled up with Kylo Ren. The muscled chest underneath her grasp, the firm arm encircling her, the soft skin against her cheek – they were definitely all his. She'd already been so close to him, and yet she'd pressed even closer to his warmth, revelling in it's comfort – it's safety. Rey didn't need a mirror to know that her cheeks were burning, and she hoped that he couldn't see them from where he lay, awake.

Kriff, she almost cursed aloud.

He was – awake - or at least she was pretty sure. The breath he took was sudden and sharp as though something had caused him pain – but he'd been quick to stifle it, probably so he wouldn't disturb her. But she'd already been awake, instinctively tightening her hold on his body and the comforting warmth it provided.

That's about when it clicked in her mind, and the raised, uneven patches she could feel against her fingertips and her forearm started to make sense. It had been too dark last night, and their feel hadn't registered under her semi conscious touch but now the texture of his skin was painfully obvious. Careful not to move, she studied their feel as best she could – softer than the skin against her cheek, yet puckered and hotter than the rest of his body, as if they still burned.

Burns, the patterned lines marking his chest felt like burns – deep and severe – that hadn't fully healed. The vision he'd shown her, when Snoke cast those snakelike creatures at him, flashed though her mind once more. He'd never said what they did or what they were, and she'd never seen him out of his full black regalia before, but even with the mask covering his features, the way his body had writhed under their hold spoke of pain – raw physical pain.

Seven days of the same, seven days of that burning agony because of her and now, now she was resting on all of those fresh wounds.

Oh Force.

That was all she could think as she hesitantly opened her eyes despite wanting to disappear into the sheets. Slowly, carefully, she removed her arm, gingerly sliding away so she could sit up beside him – hoping that the movement wouldn't cause any more pain.

She'd been right; when she turned around to look at him, pulling her knees underneath herself as she did so, his eyes were already open – watching her with an almost wary curiosity, as if he thought she might strike out at him. His chest was battered and bare and he lay open and vulnerable beside her, hesitation and doubt written cleanly across his features. He'd probably not thought about the consequences of going to her, after the night terror, that in his genuine act he would be exposing what had really happened with Snoke. She hadn't asked before, it didn't seem her place but now the evidence was raw and stark before her.

While she was no doubt embarrassed at having woken up beside him, clinging on as though she were a small child, that emotion was eclipsed by the horror she felt as her wandering eyes took in the lines marring his skin. They were everywhere – crisscrossing his sculpted torso, disappearing around his waist, running over the taught muscles of his abdomen – they even trailed down his arms, drawing sadistic circles around them. One on each bicep stood out in particular, the skin there raised higher as if it had burned and healed repeatedly. Raw and red, the burnt flesh looked as though it had barely begun to heal over, and she seemed to feel the stinging pain they were causing him like a phantom itch against her own skin.

She sucked in a breath as she continued to absorb the sight she was seeing, the reality of his life. Why would he choose to follow a monster who could do this to him? She didn't understand, she'd probably never be able to understand even if he was willing to explain it. These wounds weren't superficial – they cut deep, and while they'd started to heal they were still raw, exposed and completely untreated – like a mark he was forced to wear. Why didn't he heal himself as he had done for her? Or at least he could've gone to the med-bay that this star destroyer was sure to have. No warship made would be without some form of medical facility, yet here he was before her, slightly feverish and skin patterned with deep lines of burnt flesh.

He hadn't moved an inch, as she let herself inspect every inch of his exposed chest – she hadn't noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt the night before and now she could barely bring herself to appreciate how… masculine his form was, smooth lines of trained muscle starkly visibly even under his deeply marred skin. No, the injuries were all she could focus on, they took complete precedence in her mind as she fought for the right words to say, the right thing to do. He'd held her as she slept despite the pain she knew now it had caused him, why would he do such a thing for her? What had she done to deserve his compassion?

Part of her may be loath to admit that that was what it was, that there was some care and concern between them, but she knew that it was true. She wouldn't hide the fact that this sight sickened her, rocked her to her core. Yes, she cared, and the galaxy be damned if she was going to feel bad about it. Yes, she should probably hate this man for what he'd done to her, but first impressions weren't everything and he'd done a pretty good job making up for his actions – at least in her mind. Jakku had been hell and here was this person who started as an enemy but quickly became the only thing keeping her alive, the only one that cared about her wellbeing and that counted for something. They may have started out swinging but now she felt they had found some sort of mutual understanding in each other – especially after what they had both experienced last night. For all that had happened she couldn't help but feel concern for him too, and right then, despite her loss for words, she wasn't hesitant to show it. He needed to know that there was someone on his side, even if she wasn't sure how far on his side she was.

She finally raised her eyes to meet his, and found his expression, not cold exactly, but completely indifferent – as if it was the first time they met again, and he wasn't lying before her, covered in angry burns. A mask she knew, this was his version of protection – the metal façade she hated so much was nowhere in sight, so he had to make due with schooling his features – a practice that apparently, he was extremely good at.

Or not…

For after just a few seconds of actually holding his gaze, the solid expression he'd mustered in her silence began to falter, quickly crumbling as he struggled not to show his apprehension. Those deep, dark eyes had been cold for a brief moment but now they swam with endless streams of thought and emotions that she couldn't place, an open vulnerability that he'd never learned to hide. So, the mask did more than intimidate she thought; it hid his emotions - his fears and uncertainties - from the galaxy.

She didn't know how long they'd held each others' eyes for, neither speaking as the dead silence stretched long and uncomfortably between them, until he suddenly broke from her, gaze dropping slightly as he turned his face away as if he was expecting a reprimand. It seemed so young, the way he cowered from her in embarrassment? Fear? Her heart wrenched at the notion that this powerful figure was brought so low; she wouldn't judge him, or think less of him because he was injured and terribly so. No, she hurt for him in a way that she never had for anyone else, it was foreign and raw, her own emotion evident in the broken words that she managed to choke out.

"Oh, Kylo."

He swiveled back around to look at her again, his mouth set once again in a hard line, dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"Stop. I don't want, or need, your pity."

Pity? Was she pitying him? Rey didn't think so, she'd reacted to his wounds, but she hadn't felt sorry for him, not exactly at least. He chose this life, no matter the circumstances that drove him here, she knew that – she couldn't fix that, and she didn't feel sorry for him per se. But that didn't mean she was okay with the burns covering his skin, the hurt marring his eyes. She felt something, but that didn't mean she was pitying him, did it?

Here was a prideful man, resolute in his position, not wanting to show weakness or admit his pain and, to Rey, that was understandable. She was used to hiding, to masking who she really was, what she really wanted and felt, in order to survive. His reaction wasn't really surprising, but she wasn't about to give up that easily, not now, not after those nightmares, not when he was right there in front of her. Something had happened between them and she knew too much about him now to just ignore his pain, to pretend like she hadn't seen or felt the puckered lines tracing his skin. No, he'd be talking about this one way or another, of that she was sure, so she pushed forward.

"Why would you stay? Why would you follow Snoke if this is what it gets you and don't pretend, because I know that this was his doing Kylo."

"You wouldn't understand Rey." Now he was avoiding her eyes.

"Try me. Kylo, I want to know. What is so worth this?" she waved her hand indignantly towards his torso, her speech growing louder as she fought to reign in her emotions.

A sigh escaped his lips as he met her piercing gaze once more, contemplating how much he could, or was willing to say. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable and reserved about telling her anything, but she kept on with her questioning gaze. Maybe she wouldn't understand, but she wanted to.

"You saw what it was like before, I know you did. You saw how – I – they –…. This," he gestured around himself, "is something more. I belong here."

Oh.

And if his memories hadn't been enough to convince her, that statement surely would. He really had grown up feeling just as she had; just as scared and alone, wanting, needing anyone that could care, even just a little. As wrong as it seemed, Snoke had given him a place, a position, and the attention he'd always needed but never received. Yes, she'd seen the cruel torture, there was no denying that or the sick feeling it left in her gut – but was there more, more that she didn't know of Snoke and possibly even the First Order? And then, she could kind of understand that even this painful existence was enough, because it meant finally someone was watching, paying attention. He had his master that was actually concerned about his actions, and while it was sickening to imagine that torture had become a substitute for his absentee family, it had her wondering what else had come from his flipping sides.

The look in her eyes must have betrayed her morbid curiosity because he spoke up again,

"That's all I'm going to say about it." And the determined, slightly harsh glint to his features confirmed those words to be true. She didn't want to press him, not too much at least, so she'd take what he'd given her and drop the subject – for now at least, besides, there was another question on her mind.

"I won't…Kylo?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you heal yourself?"

And apparently that was the wrong question to ask if his sudden intake of breath and pained expression were any indication.

Fuck.

There it was, she'd finally asked the question that he really didn't want to answer. Yes, healing might be a skill practiced by light siders and yes, he embraced the dark side of the force – but that didn't change the fact that he'd never managed it in the first place, not even when he was still training to be a Jedi. It was a sore spot for him, countless times he'd tried and failed, only to be met with the gloating, derisive stares of his fellow students. Fitting in had been hard enough, his lack of ability only amplified the distress of those early years.

Now she was asking for an explanation, because of course she knew that he had healed her injuries, he'd told her as much. The problem was that he still didn't know how he'd done it; there wasn't really any method behind it – he'd been so focused on the need to save her that it just happened, but nothing just happens. No, he knew there was something else, that her force signature had somehow entwined with his own, guiding, teaching – as if she already knew how and he was just providing energy for the act. It wasn't just his ability that healed her, it was both of them – together, even though she was completely unconscious, how was he supposed to explain that?

Maybe he should have just ignored his pride and gone to the med-bay, then at least they wouldn't be having this, well, extremely awkward conversation. But no, Kylo Ren was unwilling to present himself to the medical team because then he'd have to explain where the injuries came from and that was information he wasn't willing to let slip. He wouldn't let the rest of the Order see him as some sick puppy that Snoke liked to kick around. His training was something they'd view as a weakness, a thing to exploit – it would give them a reason to look down on him like no one, save his master, had in years. Perhaps he should start keeping a med-kit, some spare bacta patches, in his quarters – that at least would've reduced the severity of the picture Rey was intently staring at.

This bout hadn't been the most painful, no lightning gets that reward, but it had done the most external damage. Never before had Snoke marked his skin so thoroughly; yes, his old scars had been reopened once more, but the marks also littered the rest of his flesh. His master wanted to make sure he understood just how he had failed him. Kylo suspected that Snoke never really liked Hux, well he wasn't sure Snoke actually liked anyone, but that was besides the point. He'd killed the face of the First Order, gone against his masters wishes for a prisoner, so he had to be punished and that was that.

And Rey was still waiting.

He dragged his hand over his face and back through the loose waves of his hair as he tried to formulate an answer for the girl sitting anxiously before him. It was obvious that she was trying to hold his gaze, but her hazel eyes kept flitting back to his injuries, inspecting the damage as she worried at her lower lip. She looked so young and innocent in that moment, not trying to hide the fear that painted her features.

Fear? Of him? For him? Could she really care enough, after what he'd done, to feel fear for him? He knew he didn't deserve it, but the prospect was elevating in a way he'd never anticipated. Not that it helped him with the admission he felt obligated to make.

"I can't."

Oh, good job Kylo, because she's definitely going to let it go with that half-assed excuse. But that's all that he could think to say, really. Even if he wanted to tell the truth he still had no idea how to explain it.

"I'm going to need a little bit more than that." She said, fixing him with a stare and a slightly exasperated sigh.

"I can't heal myself."

"What? Why? You healed me, didn't you?" she paused for a moment, obviously thinking before adding, "does it only work on others? Can you only heal other people?"

And if that wasn't the perfect excuse to save him from the conversation then he didn't know what was. He probably should've jumped on it, used it, and then promptly changed the topic but he didn't. There was something nagging him not to, as if something was telling him that now was the time to tell her the truth about what had happened when he'd healed her. Maybe it was some great plan laid out in the force, and maybe it was just that they were sitting there almost casually, still wrapped up in bedsheets and quite vulnerable to one another. He couldn't be sure of the reason that drove him just then.

"I didn't know what I was doing when I healed you… I'm not even sure if I did heal you." She didn't say anything then, probably waiting for him to elaborate and he was grateful for her patience. The admission was hard to make, but it almost felt as though a weight had been lifted. "I know that when it happened, I wanted nothing more than to save you, that I couldn't let you die."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why couldn't you let me die?" and her voice came out as a strangled whisper that struck him to the core.

Was that even a question? Wasn't it obvious? He didn't just let prisoners lounge around in his private quarters, he didn't train them or bring them meals. Could she honestly not see that he cared about her enough to want her alive? This scavenger girl was rough around the edges, but so, so vulnerable and the honesty in her question was devastating. She'd been more alone in her life than he'd ever been, and it showed, obvious in the way she couldn't believe that he wanted her – in any capacity. But how did he tell her that, this girl he'd taken by force, against her will?

"It may not seem like it, but I never wanted you to get hurt. Rey, I never really wanted you as a prisoner, when I called you a guest back on Starkiller I meant it…. I know I took you against your will, and the chairs" – how did he explain locking her in those restraints not once, but twice "I'm sorry about the restraints… but would you have come with me otherwise?"

"I…I don't know…maybe?" she thought for a moment, "probably not…it's not exactly in my nature to trust you know."

"Look Rey, there's something about you – It started back in the woods on Takodana and now, after…after last night, I can't deny it…you're important to me Rey."

Her eyes were wide with some measure of disbelief, her lower lip quivering slightly as she confirmed,

"I'm important to you?"

"Very much so."

"Oh."

Did she get it? Was that enough to make her understand? He wasn't exactly versed in this sort of thing, sharing his feelings and what-not. But he needed her to get it, to see that there was more to this all than simply keeping another Force Sensitive captive. Maybe it started that way, but just being near her quickly morphed it into so much more. Even to himself he couldn't really explain it, but there was no doubt in his mind that what he told her was true. Yes, Rey was important to him, he cared about her and he didn't want to see her hurt, in fact, the urge to protect her was steadily consuming him.

Her eyes were downcast as she chewed on her lip, an anxious, unsteady fidget in her fingers where they grasped the sheets; she seemed to be considering his words, weighing them for the truth in her mind. Her expression then told him that she was apprehensive at best to believe him, but the look didn't last long; with a quick shake of her head, as if to clear her mind, that determined look returned to light her hazel eyes as she looked up at him once more.

"So, what did you mean, when you said you weren't sure if you actually healed me? How is that even possible?"

"Uhh…well, it's sort of hard to explain… It was almost like your presence in the Force, your signature, was directing me, showing me where to go and what to do."

"They combined. Our…manifestations? They, we I guess, were working together." There was a note of awe in her tone as she said the words that made his eyes open wide in wonder.

"How did you-?"

"I saw it." And now she sounded confused and breathy at the same time, as though she were both scared and excited.

"What do you mean, you saw it?"

"Just now, when you were trying to describe what happened I could see… I saw myself, I saw the energies come together… just like they did that day in the training room…that wasn't normal, was it?"

No, it most certainly was not and now she'd caught on and he still didn't know what it meant, not really. But even more concerning was that she saw his memory, she hadn't tried to enter his thoughts and yet, she saw what he'd been remembering all the same – and he hadn't felt a thing. Why?

"No, it wasn't…same goes for the memory you just witnessed, I don't know how you managed to see that in my mind."
"I… what does this mean Kylo?"
"I honestly don't know." And he didn't, it seemed there was a lot he didn't know or understand. Maybe Snoke would have some answers, he wasn't prepared to lose Rey to him, but perhaps this, whatever it was, would give his master enough incentive not to kill her. For this sudden, easy bridge between their minds and the involuntary response of his dark and her light to meld, to work together as though it were second nature must mean something, surely it must have some importance?

Her small hands splaying out on his chest brought his mind back from it's ocean of thought, she was slightly skimming the skin, tracing the burns she found there. The cool, whispering touch of her fingertips was soothing, mesmerizing in a way that made him want to get lost in the patterns she was so carefully drawing. He had no idea what she was doing, or why she was willingly so close to him, but he didn't care. There was a sort of numbness creeping over his mind and at that moment, he'd probably let her do whatever she wanted. The peaceful, floating sensation was so strong she could probably raise his own blade against him and he wouldn't lift a finger.

He thought she might be saying something, her soft pink lips moving as if forming words, but he didn't really hear them; a delicious fog of comfort and serenity enveloped his senses, as though he were in a dream.

"…saw…"

"…felt how…"

"…what to do…"

Yes, she was definitely trying to tell him something, but he only caught snippets of it, partly because she whispered the words but mostly because he was lost in the pools of gold swimming throughout the depths of her hazel eyes. She was concentrated, intent on whatever she was doing, and he was floating, seeing everything and nothing all at once, as though he were separate from his body and present at the same time. The feeling was surreal but good…so good. He'd never felt this good, everywhere her fingers graced seemed to alight in pleasant sensation, like a cool breeze on a hot summers day. Every time she reached a new piece of skin the stinging pain left by the burns receded a little more, dwarfed by her energy, her light.

Her light.

She was drawing her hands away now, but he caught them within his own, the absence of her touch slowly clearing his mind until he could register the girl before him, and the look of silent wonder that painted her face. As his mind returned to him, he noticed first the trails of silvery scars that crossed his skin now instead of burns, and second, that his large hands were clasped around Rey's considerably smaller ones, the callouses lining her thin fingers tickling his skin where they met.

The look of innocent fascination quickly faded to a nervous apprehension with his continued silence and powerful stare. He had no idea what his own expression looked like right now, which emotion it would show. Disbelief, wonder, confusion, awe or…

She'd healed him. He hadn't even realized what she was doing but now it made perfect sense, that peaceful sensation that washed over him. This girl, with virtually no training and no reason to care –

"Rey."

And his voice came out a lot huskier than he'd expected, even just speaking her name. There was so much, so much about this girl before him that drew him in already, and this, this was like icing on the cake. What she'd done was nothing short of incredible and she'd done it for him. It was more than anyone else had ever given him before and he was ,well… hooked.

His dark eyes were boring into hers with an intense heat, she hadn't seen this look on his face before and she didn't know what to make of it. Was he angry? Pissed? He shouldn't be, considering she'd just healed his wounds – even if she herself couldn't really believe that she'd managed it. She'd felt what it had felt like for him, when he was healing her – how her own light had guided his dark, pulling, and pushing – mending the tissue. It had been somewhat disturbing, but mostly captivating – seeing and feeling her body stitch itself back together through his eyes and under his touch.

She hadn't anticipated this, but after seeing his memory of her, she couldn't stop herself from trying the same for him. It was as though something else had been directing her and she just knew what to do, the pull had been so great that she didn't even hesitate in laying her hands on him. But now she realized that she had indeed been, well, feeling up his chest – literally all of it – while she worked, so maybe he was mad. Maybe she'd overstepped, and she didn't know what to say to that or this burning expression she hadn't noticed before. Her nervous apprehension rose with each second that ticked by and she was almost ready to crack when he finally broke the silence with her name.

His tone was low, throaty – as though he didn't trust his own voice to convey the sheer level of emotion in that one word, her name. It rose goosebumps on her skin, and she might have visibly shuddered at the sound. His eyes were still burning, and those pouty lips were parted slightly as his grip shifted suddenly, but with a surprising gentleness, to her wrists. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself quickly falling towards his very exposed chest, or rather, he was pulling her towards him. It was urgent and maybe a little forceful, and she didn't she didn't get any time to react as he sat up to stop her body with his own, effectively pinning her captured hands against his chest as he did so. He was suddenly so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath and a startled gasp started to escape her lips, only to be silenced by his mouth slanting down over her own.

Oh Force.

Was he...? yes, yes, he was definitely kissing her. His lips caressed her own with a passionate need and oh, she had never felt anything like this before, never. Some men had tried back on Jakku; managing a sloppy, invasive pass before but she promptly beat them back with her staff, but this, Kylo – the feel of his soft lips, hot and insistent against her own, was, in a word - glorious.

He had her hands trapped between them and she could feel the intensity of his heart racing, the flush that crept over the bare skin of his chest. She could feel his want as though it were feeding directly into her mind and it was riveting, that he needed her so in that moment.

He was freeing her hands now to move his own, one around her waist, the other curling at the base of her head to tangle in the hair that flowed freely down her back. The base of his hand rested warm and gentle against her cheek as his long fingers got lost in its length, teasing back and forth against her scalp.

Then he was pulling her into him more fully, lifting her into his lap with one arm as though she were as light as a feather, and well, maybe that was accurate because of how thin Jakku living had made her – but the ease with which he shifted her made her feel – safe. That was probably the best word for it, how being in his very muscled, yet gentle embrace offered a sense of much welcomed protection. Yes, here she was in the arms of one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy, yet she felt safer in that moment than she ever had before.

And she was getting lost in the feel of his heat against her, this man she should hate or fear but right now felt nothing but attraction to. His hand at the small of her back kept her pressed against him as he continued the fiery onslaught with his mouth. His tongue stroked across her lips, the sensation sending sparks throughout her body and she gasped against his mouth, parting her lips for him, eager for more. He dove forward, thoroughly exploring every inch of her mouth as she discovered why this was so popular.

She'd seen couples locked in passionate embrace before, but this was her first time experiencing the feel of someone else's tongue against her teeth, the heat of another's mouth against her own. And oh, was he ever good at this, his lips knew all the right angles as they moved against hers, eliciting all new sensations that travelled down to the base of her spine.

His teeth grazed over her bottom lip in a ghost of bite and force help her because that moan came from her didn't it? Escaping of it's own accord, created by the painful pleasure of his mouth.

All of these feelings, sensations – they were new to Rey and she was inexperienced and unsure of what she was doing. That nagging part of her mind told her she was making a fool of herself, that she was utterly messing this up and he was going to start laughing at her any moment now. But with each second that passed, each stroke of soft lips and gentle scrape of fingertips the worry eased a little more, and she cared a little less. The more insistent part of her mind, or heart – she didn't know – was winning now, the sensation of him, underneath her fingers, against her body – was overwhelming.

She slid her own hands up the now smooth skin of his abdomen, following the hidden lines of muscle up and around his neck until her fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair. He groaned, low and uninhibited, as she ran them through its length, grazing his scalp with her nails as she did so. That sound was so…masculine, it sent shivers down her spine – gods was she ever attracted to this man, to… Kylo Ren. There was no denying it now, not with her tongue tracing his teeth, while his hands fervently searched her body.

They were she realized, through the fog that clouded her mind, running up and down her sides, her back, across her thighs – touching, caressing her through yesterdays thin clothes. He was everywhere against her and she was straddling him and that definitely explained the hardness pressed against her inner thigh and she quivered in a mix of fear and excitement under his touch; a nervous flutter settling low in her abdomen.

His lips left hers to leave a trail of fleeting kisses along her jaw, before travelling down her neck to suck on her pulse. His tongue flicked across the sensitive skin there and she let out another, much louder moan as she tightened her grasp on his hair.

Yes, she was enjoying this…Kylo was nothing short of amazing and she revelled in this sensation of being so close… but was she ready for this?

.

.

Apparently not, because when his hands found the hem of her tunic, pushing it up to find the bare skin underneath - she froze. Stock still, she stopped moving because she didn't really know what to say, or do in that moment but she knew intrinsically that she wasn't ready for more, or at least she wasn't ready for what he would inevitably want if she let it go any further.

And if he was a creature of impulse and uninhibited actions like people said, then he was turning over a new leaf, because his hands stopped moving almost immediately and his lips left hers, so he could catch her eyes.

"Rey?"

"I…"- and she still didn't know what to say, especially with that open, honest expression searching her eyes, silently questioning if she was okay. And damn the prick of tears behind her eyes that his concern elicited because she really didn't want to end her first real kiss, well that was a little more than a kiss but regardless – she really didn't want it to end with her in tears before him.

So, she swallowed them back the best she could and met his gaze, her mouth opened to try and explain but nothing came out. She was embarrassed and more than a little lost because yes, she definitely felt something for this man, and yes being locked in his embrace had felt so damn good, but she wasn't ready to go further than that yet and how was she supposed to tell him it was because she never had gone further? Heck, she'd never had more than an unwanted, forceful press of lips – an action that was always countered with a ruthless lesson courtesy of her quarterstaff. How was she supposed to explain that the fear in her eyes wasn't of him, but of being with him – or anyone for that matter.

And what if he was angry? Annoyed that she wouldn't give him more, at least not willingly, or pissed that she'd reciprocated and then abruptly gone cold.

It was almost like he heard everything she was thinking though, that he heard the apprehension coursing through her mind, because his hands immediately left her skin to fix her tunic back into place. And then his strong arms were around her once more, but this time he lifted her, so she was sitting across his lap, head tucked against his shoulder as he slowly ran his fingers through her hair. His other arm wrapped around her waist, but it wasn't invasive or searching, it just rested there with a comforting pressure.

It might've been reminiscent of how one would comfort a small child, but Rey didn't mind; she'd never known this kind of empathy before and she welcomed it hungrily, for on Jakku she hadn't just been starved for food, but affection as well.

She didn't realize that she was crying, albeit quietly, until he started speaking.

"Rey, it's okay…it's okay… I'm sorry, I…."
"It's not your fault" she mumbled into his chest. "You didn't do anything wrong, not really…. I should be the one apologizing, not you."

"No, I shouldn't have… I got carried away… I think sometimes, I forget how young you are."

How could he be so understanding, how could he be this kind and at the same time be the ruthless, masked, lightsaber wielding killer of the First Order. Kylo Ren was a web of contradictions, hot and cold, dangerous, and protective. She was coming to see that, although with her it seemed that he was content to show her kindness, to offer her safety and comfort – ever since that second and last attempt to retrieve the map he'd shown her nothing but honest care.

And she wanted to believe in him, she wanted to believe that the safety she felt wrapped up in his arms was real because it was more than she'd ever had before. She'd only known Finn and Han for a moment, and she'd never met the Resistance – she had no ties to them and no wish to join their side and fight the losing battle against the First Order. That left Jakku as her other option and frankly, she'd take the Resistance over going back to that desert graveyard any day. Sure, she might be out of her element here, but she also wasn't starving, scavenging for parts, or fighting off unwanted propositions. Because Kylo Ren definitely did not count as an 'unwanted proposition', no he was a lot more than that – even if she wasn't ready to say it out loud, she could admit that much to herself.

Then there was that bit about her age which had her naturally curious side wondering how old he was, because how much older was he to chalk up her reaction, at least in part, to her age? Now didn't really seem like the time to ask though, considering she was kind of falling apart, leaving tear tracks down his chest. No, she'd file that inquisition away for later, for now though she wanted, with an unrecognizable need, to make sure he knew that he knew this was about her and not him.

She sucked in a breath, and did her best to wipe the tears that she still cursed for falling down her cheeks. "It's just that I…well, umm I"- Kriff

"You don't have to say it," he was murmuring the words into her hair, his chin now resting softly against her head, "I understand and no, I'm not mad."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh."

Was that really how she saw him? Did she really believe him so awful that he would be angry with her for being uncomfortable? The silent worry on her part had echoed through his mind as she cried against his chest and he had to admit it stung. No, he had no right to get upset with her and truth be told, he went too far and he knew it. He wasn't about to bring it up in conversation, but he'd completely let slip what he'd seen during their shared dream.

It had been filled with some of his worst and most painful memories, so he imagined that held true for Rey as well. He'd seen her there, fighting off an assault, desperately beating back against three oversized men trying to take advantage of her young age. He knew that memory haunted her and yet, he didn't even stop to think about what he was doing when he kissed her. It had been almost instinctual, the need to pull her into him, to finally taste those alluring, petal pink lips - to feel her pressed tight against him.

It was too much too fast for Rey, and well, probably himself as well if he really thought about it. He wasn't about to push her into sleeping with him and he wanted her to know that, to know that he would never force her. He might have blood on his hands, but he'd never force her to be with him, not like that. The mere thought sickened him and the idea that Rey might fear him doing so cut deep – he could never be that monstrous.

"Rey?"

"Yes?" she was getting a hold of herself now, the tears had stopped, and her voice was almost steady.

"I need you to understand that I will never hurt you again and…" he hesitated, wincing with the difficulty of saying the next words because he wished that he didn't need to, he wished that he didn't have to assure her that she was safe with him.

"I know you would never force me Kylo."

What? He hadn't actually said the words, he'd been hesitating to say them and yet, she'd relieved him of their burden as if she'd clearly heard his every thought. She sounded sure and confident in that statement too, like she really did believe in and trust him. The relief that brought him was great, knowing that she felt at least somewhat safe with him.

She was fidgeting in his arms now though and he realized that he'd just been holding her there in silence for a while now and maybe it was getting a little awkward. So, he gently lifted her back up off his lap, so she was sitting on the bed once more, before standing up to face her.

It was about time for a topic switch he thought, and the emptiness in his stomach seemed to agree – the low rumble echoing in the silent room provided evidence of such. She giggled then, and the amusement on her face spoke nothing of the tears that had been there just minutes before. He was glad to see her finding some happiness, even if he did send a scowl her way.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really, but it sure sounds like you are." She replied with a cheeky grin. And it seemed as though his attempt at a diversion worked because now she was taking in the room and it's furnishings, a slightly confused look on her face as she asked,

"Did you, uh, redecorate?"

He had to laugh then because yes, this room did look almost exactly like his own – everything was laid out the same, bar the pedestal holding Vader's ruined helm, other than that the only difference was the color. While his quarters were done in blacks and greys, these were in the color of light sands and the soft blue of morning skies. It was understandable that she thought this was his room, especially considering he'd carried her here while she was asleep, but it was still humorous.

"What?"

"This isn't my room Rey, it's yours."

"I have a room?"

"Rooms, to be exact – the layout is the same as my own. I had them prepared for you after Starkiller." And maybe that sounded a little creepy, so he mentally crossed his fingers that she wouldn't see it that way.

"I suppose that explains why you came from the hall looking like," she gestured haphazardly at him, "that. But why now? Why'd you bring me here instead of the cell?"

He was a little miffed at that question, finding it hard to believe that she'd still think he'd take her back to the cell. Not likely after what happened last time she was in there, and besides, he'd never planned to keep her there – from the moment they'd returned from the crumbling planet he knew he wanted her as an ally or at least, not an enemy.

"This was really the first opportunity I suppose," and he thought about it for a minute, "I also needed to know I could trust you – because, while you aren't free to roam the ship, there's a lot less security around you now."

"And how do you know you can trust me?" she asked, an inquisitive glint in her eyes, and a wry smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Well I didn't mean it as a test at the time, but when I left you alone in the training room I also left it unlocked and unguarded. Considering that I found you curled up, asleep and under my cloak no less, I assumed that you didn't even think about escaping."

A flush crept over her cheeks then as her eyes fell to the bed and she realized that the black blanket she had been wrapped in before their make-out session was in fact, not a blanket at all.

"I'm going to need that back by the way."

"Uhh yea sure." She said as she quickly gathered the fabric from beside her and all but threw it at him, "maybe you could find a shirt too." She added, that adorable blush still painting her cheeks as she avoided his gaze. It was all quite amusing to him, and only served to remind him how young and innocent she was. Still, he couldn't deny the attraction he felt for this girl.

"I'll consider it." He was grinning now, something he hadn't done for a long time, "What do you want to eat?"

"You're the one that's hungry, you pick…besides I wouldn't even know where to start."

He tried to put the bleak message behind her words out of his mind as he keyed in an order on a now brightly lit panel. He turned back to her, gesturing at the device,

"I didn't get the chance to explain before, which is why the droids brought you your meals, but now, since you're here, you can order food whenever you want from this panel. There's a pretty large selection, and it changes throughout the day."

"Okay."

They'd eaten breakfast and Kylo had informed Rey of what she could do and where she could go before making his way to the bridge. Their rooms were side by side in a private corridor only accessible to himself, his Knights, and Hux. The General was dead by his hand and none of the Knights were currently on board, so Rey was free to go between her suite and the training room, which also stemmed off the private hall, as she pleased.

He'd also given her run of the small library he kept on the condition that if she could get the door open, she could read whatever she found within. The smaller room was only accessible through manipulation of the force, the entrance guarded by locks with no visible panels that could only be opened by physically moving the mechanisms hidden within the durasteel frame. It was a sort of test for her; he was curious to see how well she could utilize the force. Obviously, she was strong, considering the fact that the only marks left on his skin from Snoke were the three characteristic scars he'd had for years. Still he wanted to know what she could do, and he also wanted to train her, but if he could get her interested and wanting to learn first it would go so much better, he knew.

He figured if she got the door open she'd be pretty satisfied with herself and would want to know more. And if she managed to find the few Jedi texts he'd stolen from the academy that would probably peak her interest even more. He might be allied with the dark, but that didn't mean the Jedi had nothing to teach, and he wouldn't begrudge her the chance to learn from them, especially considering her strong connection to the light. Other than that, there were a number of books recounting historic events focusing mainly on times of war.

Considering her Jakku background, Kylo had been a little surprised when she responded to his inquiry about whether or not she liked reading with such enthusiasm. There was part of him that immediately worried that she couldn't read as soon as he'd asked the question and he'd cringed inwardly, wanting to hit himself for being so stupid. But then an almost gleeful expression had stolen her features and she'd been quick to explain that she'd taught herself to read on an old data pad she'd found and restored. It wasn't good for much, but I'd spend hours reading stories on the HoloNet, when I wasn't scavenging that is, she'd said, and it was clear that the skill was a source of pride for her. It was another polarizing aspect of her past that reminded him of how different the worlds they came from were.

Leia Organa had sent him to the best school's money could buy – until he was expelled for 'behavioral issues' - on his homeworld of Chandrila before he was sent away to his uncle's academy. It was a source of bitterness for him, because in being so close to the Senate, his mother was always gone and always working.

He was shuffled between nannies constantly because once they saw an arbitrary object floating through the air they ran – never to be seen again. Then there was his father, it hadn't been long after his force abilities started to manifest that Han Solo promptly took up his smuggling career full time once more, only showing up every couple of months for a day or two. Looking back, he knew that it took it's toll on his mother, but he'd been young and too impressionable to really notice.

He grew up in a world of wealth and opulence, she in a desolate wasteland riddled with remnants of the past where the only hope was that your find would earn you a portion, if you were lucky that is. So different were their beginnings but, as he'd come to realize, their minds, their emotions and motives – they were more similar than he cared to admit.

He'd arrived at the bridge by now and the officers and grunts of the First Order scurried to and fro, conducting their duties – avoiding his masked gaze and steering well clear of his path. He might be willing to let Rey see him but that didn't mean the scared glances and nervous twitches of his subordinates didn't bring him pleasure. It had been a long time in the making, too many years of insults, rumours, and unwarranted hatred because of a heritage and disposition he did not choose. He embraced it now though, revelled in it even – and if they wanted to hate him for it – fine, but they would fear him too.

He smirked slightly, a gesture known only to himself, before silently reminding himself that he wasn't just here to look over the men and women of the First Order.

She'd made a beeline for his secret library as soon as she heard him leave the corridor. It hadn't taken him long at all to return to his quarters and don his characteristic black outfit, complete with surcoat, mask and gloves. Only a matter of minutes had passed before he was out of ear shot – she didn't want him watching her try to get the door open. He'd told her the gist of it, but said the rest was up to her to figure out and she'd been intrigued, but now, standing in front of a very locked and very thick steel panel with no locks or visible electronics, she didn't know where to begin.

Kylo had said it was locked with the force, and that the force was required to unlock it too, but she didn't have much practice in manipulating it. She'd coerced a guard, pulled the Skywalker blade through the air once and visualized the force? Or meditated on it? – whatever it was Kylo had shown her the first time in the training room – and healed his injuries with a method she barely understood – that was it . But she had to start somewhere right?

"Here goes nothing." she mumbled under her breath as she tried to emulate that state of mind from before – when she'd been able to see the living force around herself and Kylo, how it moved and changed between them – come to think of it, much the same had happened earlier when she was healing Kylo; her mind had slipped into a state where she wasn't seeing with her eyes so much as with her mind.

That was it, she needed to reach out with her mind, her feelings – to see everything and not just at face value. That familiar blue light engulfed her in it's soft wisps, floating gently through the air, outlining, drawing a picture of the world beyond her closed eyelids. And she could see the locks – thick steel bars running crosswise that held the door firmly shut – and the inner mechanism that would draw them back.

Her eyes opened, and she motioned with just a flick of her wrist. Light bands rotated the inner, wheel like device and the steel beams withdrew from the insets of the door frame with a smooth hiss. The panel slid away on its own to reveal the miniature treasure trove of knowledge that lay within.

To someone like Kylo, or probably anyone on this ship she gathered, the collection here would be considered small and personal, but for Rey it was huge. There were only a few shelves but when all the books you've seen are old, burned copies lost in downed star destroyers or grease covered manuals with half the pages ripped out – well, suffice it to say that this 'small' library was much more than she'd ever seen before.

She'd taken her time, reading spine after spine, before choosing a text that, ironically enough, was completely blank. There wasn't really a reason for choosing it, not until she'd flipped through a couple pages and noticed briefly that it mentioned the force and the Jedi. That had her interest peaked enough and she'd promptly tucked the book under her arm to return to her own room, relocking the door with ease as she left.

The library and the training room were at one end of the corridor, while she and Kylo's suites – along with a number of other rooms whose purpose she didn't know – were located at the other. It was when she was about halfway on her trip back, that the door to one of those other rooms opened right in front of her and a man she'd never seen before stepped unsuspectingly into her path. It was too late to stop though, and she ran smack into him, the text falling from her arms to land with a thud on the floor. She registered his height – taller than me for sure, but not as tall as Kylo – and the finely pressed First Order uniform as the impact sent them both sprawling on the hard metal floor, just inches away from each other.