When he falls silent in your lap beneath the soft ministrations of your hands, you bend down and press a kiss to the top of his head. Remaining there for a moment, you simply breathe in his familiar scent, your eyes sliding closed for a moment as your lips linger. Drawing back reluctantly, you gently card your fingers through his hair a few times and eventually, you feel his fingers twitch against your back.
Ever so slowly, he raises his head, his dark locks falling over his eyes before you brush them away so that you can see his blotchy but nonetheless beautiful face. His dark eyes lift and look up at you mournfully for a beat, his cheek resting against your thigh as he sags further in on himself.
"I know..." You tell him softly, knowing full well how sorry he is.
Sorry for everything he's done. Sorry for everything that he's going to do.
Reaching down, you gently cup his chin so you can tilt his face up, your lips gently brushing his forehead to further show your forgiveness. You know it will take a lot of convincing but eventually, there will be a time where you can wear him down enough for him to understand.
"Should we go?" You speak against his skin, pressing your lips firmly against his brow once more before drawing back.
Looking down at him, you gently cup his face in both hands and he nods softly, his eyes slipping closed as he sniffs softly, fully aware of the puffiness of his own eyes. He slowly leans back, his hands slipping down your thighs as he rises from his knees to stand tall once more, his heavy cloak swinging into place behind him. He extends his hand towards you and you take it, the smooth leather of his glove having warmed against your skin.
With his other hand, he wordlessly calls his helmet to him and tucks it under his free arm, using his other to lead you back towards the door. Once more using the Force, he turns the handle and the door swings open to allow you to exit.
Silently, the two of you move down the hall, passed the 'fresher, out through Hux's bedroom, and into his sitting room.
You find the aforementioned man seated on the far end of his expensive leather sofa, a tumbler of brandy on the end table beside him. Millicent is sitting quietly near his thigh, her feet tucked beneath her as the man strokes her head, his other hand holding a datapad as he reads the day's messages.
He looks up when he hears your footfalls, his cool eyes resting on the pair of you as you move across his quarters, "Leaving so soon?" You detect a hint of smugness in his tone.
"Yes, General." You pause in place in his living room, properly addressing him like you would any other time. Kylo gently tugs on your hand but you resist his persistent pulling for a moment. "Goodnight." You bow your head slightly and turn to leave, the door to his quarters sliding open.
You reach down and retrieve your boots where you had left them by the door, not bothering to put them on, content to walk the halls in your sock-clad feet. Not that it was a long trek.
Looking up at the knight beside you, you offer him a soft curl of your lips and nod your head.
The dark haired man then looks away from you and meets Hux's gaze and offers him a single nod of his head. The General stoically returns the gestured. What their exchange implied, you don't know.
"Thank you, General." You tell him earnestly, causing his eyes to flick from the knight and back to you. "For everything."
"You're welcome, Lieutenant." He replies softly, "Goodnight."
With that, the man beside you turns to go, his hold on your hand still firm. However, you two only get about half a foot out into the hall before the redhead is calling out in your direction.
"Goodnight, Ren." The Commander freezes in place and he slowly turns to look back into the room over his shoulder. His dark eyes give away nothing as his eyes linger briefly on the redhead.
"Goodnight, Hux."
The long stretch of the officer's hall is quiet as it typically is. Not a single soul resides in the hall besides the two of you as you make the short journey towards the doorway at the end of the hall, Hux's room being in the middle while Phasma's is the nearest to the entrance.
Without even lifting his hand, the doors to the room slide open and allow you two entry before quietly closing once more, sealing the two of you off from the rest of the galaxy for that isolated moment in time.
The towering form of the man beside you drops his helmet unceremoniously onto the couch and turns back to face you, you yourself just having dropped your boots beside the door. Hands still joined, he lifts them both so that he can place your own behind his neck, his fingers squeezing your softly in a silent message. He then lets go and bends low to slips his arms around you, only to lift you from the ground a beat later.
Kylo doesn't even struggle to carry you, his hold gentle yet steady and unwavering. Wordlessly, you rest your forehead against his throat, the hand behind his neck lazily toying with the silky raven strands within their reach.
He carefully adjusts his grip on you and begins to proceed through the sitting room, passed the kitchen, through the doorway leading to his bedroom.
"Do you need to shower?" He speaks against the top of your head, his rumbling low and soft.
"Yeah," your voice is just as quiet.
Once in the 'fresher, he carefully sets you down, your rear on the counter near the sink when he released you.
He doesn't look at you as he removes the gloves from his hands and sets them beside you, his knees folding moments later as he drops down before you. Silently, he takes hold of your foot and pushes up your pant leg so he can draw your sock down your calf and over your toes. The knight brushes his lips against your ankle before moving onto the other foot to repeat the same process.
Taking hold of your hips, he gently tugs you forward; he wants you to stand and so you do.
Once upright, he reaches forward with careful hands and gently pulls on your belt to undo the clasp keeping it in place over the top of your uniform. He slowly unwinds it from around your waist and sets it on the lid of the toilet behind him. Your pants are next and join the belt, his warm hands running up your calves as he gazes up at you appreciatively. However, a soft laugh escapes you when he startles slightly and looks down at your legs when he feels the brushing of hair against his fingertips.
"Sorry. I haven't had a reason to shave in awhile."
Since your relations with him had begun, you had always made sure to keep yourself well groomed, both for your own self-confidence as well as your fear of his disgust if he ever caught you with prickly legs.
And you know that he is suddenly listening in on your thoughts because his eyes unintentionally fall out of focus slightly before he frowns for a moment as he looks up at you. Then, he leans in and gently nuzzles his nose against the inside of your knee, "You don't need to ever shave again if you don't want to."
You can't help the burning of your cheeks and you look away bashfully, aware of his dark gaze admiring you. He rises back up to his full height and gently pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb. He turns your head back to face him, a smirk curling his lips upward.
Releasing his hold on your chin, he begins to undo the numerous clasps down the front of your uniform hidden behind the seam, a task that is extremely tedious and inconvenient. It has been proven to be so numerous times in the past. Still, he takes his time, deft and careful fingers now used to the arduous labor.
When your uniform top is open, he pushes it from your shoulders but keeps a hold if it so that he can hang it on the hook upon the wall; the safest place for it in the refresher.
You can't help but shiver slightly when the cool air hits your skin, your own hands raising to rub at the goosebumps new peppering your flesh, thankful still that you wore an undershirt beneath your uniform.
"Are you going to shower with me?" You ask, your eyes hopeful.
Kylo looks down for a moment, a torn expression still on his face as his dark eyes focus on your stomach and the near nonexistent swell there before he slowly nods.
Raising a brow at him, you step forward and reach behind the buckle on his belt to undo the clasp, the man silent as he allows you to do so. You set the heavy thing beside your own on the toilet and then your hands carefully begin to unwind the tattered cowl from around his neck. His clothes are easier to remove than yours; he lifts his surcoat over his head while you slide the suspenders from his shoulders so they hang limply behind his rear. Kylo himself pulls the tight crop top of his inner shirt over his head and discards it with the rest of the mass of black clothes on the floor.
He then reaches out once more to you and pulls your undershirt up and off as well, leaving you just in your bra and underwear. Now mostly bare, you go to the shower and reach inside to program the controls on the waterproof screen. You both like having the water hot so you adjust the settings, the spray kicking on and tumbling from the ceiling like natural rainfall.
Knowing he needs to catch up, Kylo toes out of his boots and kicks them towards the door, his large mits hooking into his boxer briefs so that he can work them down with his leather leggings to the floor. He took can't help but shutter slightly in the cool air just as you had, his dark eyes watching as you reach into the glass stall, your hand dipping beneath the water to test the temperature.
When look back over your shoulder to tell him the water is ready but your cheeks burn with a new flush that grows on your cheeks when you realize he is entirely bare before you.
Stars, he is still so beautiful.
Stepping towards you, his large hands return to your person and easily undo the clasp on your bra. He drags the straps down your shoulders and you hold your arms out, allowing the black garment to fall to the floor, your breasts now free.
And holy fuckin' shit.
Taking your bra off after a long day of work had never felt so good.
His large arm reaches passed you to hold the shower door open so that you can relieve yourself of your underwear. You do so hurriedly, nearly toppling over with the promise of a hot shower being metaphorically tangled in front of your nose. However, the towering shadow at your back catches and steadies you, his hand splaying nearly your entire plushy side from your ribs to your hips.
Stepping out of your underwear, you absentmindedly ball them up and throw them over your shoulder, nearly hitting Kylo in the face but he is able to flinch away just in time thanks to his mystical Force powers.
Though you highly doubted anyone had ever used the Force to dodge panties before.
Mildly horrified, you had saw what you had done, "Oh, shit. Sorry."
Just when you think he's going to open his mouth and tease you, his eyes soften instead, the hand on your side moving so that he can gently stroke your spine with his knuckles. His mouth ever so slightly curls up in one of the corners, "So silly."
He then gently presses you forward with the hand against your back so that you step into the shower, turning your face away slightly as you move under the warm spray. A moment later, the towering man joins you inside, closing the door behind him.
Kylo, entirely unperturbed, steps into the spray, his soft hair flattening against his skull as he moves closer to you. You yourself raise a hand and push your own stringy hair back from your face so that you could properly watch the man, his eyes having slid shut as he enjoys the heated water.
You reach for your shampoo—still in its same spot even after everything that's happened—and squeeze some into your hand. You are about to replace it when a large arm is reaching around and taking it from you.
Scrubbing the soap into your hair, you turn back to the man and watch as he squeezes out his own dollop before setting it against the wall with the rest of your gathered supplies.
You can't stop yourself from glowering at him, "Have you been using my shampoo?" It was expensive and you don't have that great of a salary as it is.
As he rubbed it into his own hair, he looks up at you, eyes wide as if he has realized what he has done. His hands still as he pauses, his gaze dropping momentarily, "Maybe..." He says softly, taking a step back so that he can lean against the tiled wall out of the reach of the water, his eyes still unable to meet your's. He then begins to fiddle with his fingers, the sweet smelling suds still clinging to them. "I..." He begins carefully. "The bed smelled... weird."
The bed smelled weird without you.
You realize he means to say that he had missed you, as he had silently admitted in your mind before.
For a moment, you simply stand there beneath the spray, letting the water wash the soap from your own hair. Feeling your resolve soften at his not-quite-admittance, you step towards him and reach up.
Carefully pushing your own hands into his hair, you begin to massage his scalp, knowing full well that he always enjoys when you play with or stroke his hair in any situation. His eyes slip closed once more and he angles his head slightly so that it is easier for you to reach.
Feeling satisfied with your work after a beat, you take his still sudsy hand and pull him back under the falling water.
Out of instinct, he tilts his head back and lets the liquid run through his silky locks and down his back into the drain in the floor. He raises a hand and pushes it back into his own hair to finally get rid of the rest of the shampoo.
Finally, he looks back down at you and lifts a hand to cup beneath your jaw so that he can dip down and kiss you, his lips languid yet deliberately slow in their sensual movements against your own.
Instinctively, your hands rest on his wide chest, one remaining over his peck while the other slides up his neck and into his freshly washed hair.
You can tell he's being extra careful with you despite this being the first time he's kissed you in months. And, oddly enough, you're okay with that. You understand that he's in a world of torment of his own and don't press, knowing full well that it's better to let him come to you. But... then again...
Sometimes it was better for you to go to him.
It is near painful when you both do eventually pull away, eyes half lidded as if drugged while you look at each other. He brushes his knuckles adoringly against your cheek and you allow your gaze to drop as you step towards him, your arms slipping through his as you press yourself against him.
With your cheek rested against his warm chest, you swear you can hear him rumble—or purr?—because of your actions, his strong arms returning the gesture and circling around you.
And for awhile, everything is as it always had been.
It's just you and him and the warmth of the water as it trickles down the dips and curves of your bodies; the quiet slapping of the liquid like a melody to your ears as your eyes begin to grow heavy while you lean for what feels like hours against the man.
Eventually, though, Kylo is shifting against you and moving you from beneath the spray, effectively rousing you from your cat-nap against him as he carefully turns you around in his arms. His touch leaves you for only a moment before he begins to run his hands through your hair, the scent of your conditioner permeating the hazy air. And then, his slick palms are gently messaging your own sweet smelling soap into your skin, his thick fingers effortlessly unraveling all the tension left in your body.
However, when his hands circle around to your front and he presses his solid chest against your back, he is careful to avoid your stomach, his large paws instead ghosting up your ribcage. It is when he gets to your breasts and barely has a chance to knead them that your hands latch around his wrists, your face screwing up in pain as you throw your head back against his shoulder. You whimper pitifully and the knight freezes behind you, his breath coming out fast against your damp neck as he begins to panic.
"What's wrong?"
You take in a shuddering breath and carefully ease his hands away from you, "They're just... They're sore." You can still feel how tense he is behind you and now that he isn't touching you, the pain is ebbing. "It's just something that happens because of the pregnancy. It's okay, though. The doctor said the tenderness should go away after the first trimester."
He is silent but nods against your neck, his hands slowly gliding back down your body to the apex of your thighs. His fingers brush over your outer lips as he carefully begins to clean you down there, his hands still fully lathered. You can't help but shudder slightly in his arms, your hands still clutching at his wrists but for an entirely new reason now.
He makes careful work of not getting the soap inside, knowing full well that it could potentially cause problems for you. Instead, he moves back a fraction and his other hand cups the swell of your left buttock. His thumb slips down your crack and strokes over your hole a few times, his intent to both clean and no doubt tease you.
You gasp and feel the ring of muscle clench at the added sensation but he presses no further, his large palm simply rubbing your soap into your skin once more as his thumb retreats.
Shortly after though, Kylo lightly grazes your clit once—only once—and you can't stop yourself from rocking back into the solid heat behind you, a soft whimper falling from your lips. He himself releases a shuddering breath and presses a single kiss to your shoulder before he's withdrawing.
There's now a low, familiar burning in your belly from his actions and you know he just meant to help clean you but still.
You look up at him and find that his eyes have darkened slightly as he stands across the shower from you. Without breaking eye contact, you grab your body wash and squirt some into your hand before you step forward and begin to work the lather into his own skin, your palms rubbing into his solid chest as your lips come together once more.
His hands cup both sides of your face as you work over his entire body, across his chest and nipples, down his abs, skirting back around his navel so that you can even grope hard at his rear, taking the two plump cheeks into each of your fists.
Kylo groans loudly into your open mouth, only to emit the same deep sound when you squeeze him once more, his hips to rocking helplessly against your own as you release his ass and begin to rub up at his rippling back.
Carefully, one hand sneaks between the two of you and you take his cock into your hand; you slowly begin to stroke, mostly focusing on getting him clean first and aroused second—just like he'd done with you.
His chest begins to heave because of your actions, his tongue snaking out of his plush lips to push passed your own into your waiting mouth. You both simultaneously release strangled sounds as you begin to taste each other, tongues pushing deep into the heat of each others warm mouth.
The not-longer-so-light petting between the two of you continues until Kylo groans loudly once more, his hand now the one to grip your wrist and remove it from his member. It's half hard at this point, the man having been entirely content to simply share the intimacy of a warm shower with you. That is, until you rocked back against him.
Both of you now clean at this point, he reaches behind him and shuts the water off. Opening the shower door, he retrieves a towel and hands it to you, only to grab another one for himself.
Disappointed in his sudden change in demeanor, you know not to push him and instead begin to towel off, the knight already having started to do so across the way. It is silent between the two of you then, the only sound the dull hum of the ship and the quiet whispering of terrycloth across clean skin.
Bending over, you bow your head and begin to ruffle your hair, your towel in your hands as you fist at your own hair to squeeze the excess water from it.
You startle suddenly when you feel the heavy weight of another towel as it drapes across your back, large hands beginning to rub over you once more to catch the water droplets still remaining. Straightening up, you don't bother to even look at him and just let him work, his movements again measured and careful as he strokes the fabric across your skin.
Without the warm water now, the air is chilly once more when he pulls the towel away from you, his other hand snatching the one from your hands to deposit them both outside the shower on the floor.
Now you finally look back at Kylo, a mild glare leveled on him because you're beginning to get cold again.
However, you find that he's watching you, his head tilting slightly to the left as he unabashedly allows his eyes to drift across your form. Subconsciously, he licks his lips before he's raising his eyes so that he can hold your own pair, both seeing and recognizing your sudden annoyance directed towards him. And then, he's striding forward and you yelp as he loops his arms beneath you so he can lift you once more, "Kylo!"
When he places you on the bed, his large palms gently skim down your body once more, his lips pressing against your's with a sigh. They only remain connected for a moment before he's moving down, lips and teeth nibbling down your jaw and neck, still ever mindful of their placement so that they will be hidden by your uniform collar.
And then, he begins to worship you.
His hands and mouth are everywhere, touching every inch of you, gently squeezing and fondling. He pays careful attention to your breasts, his nose nuzzling the soft skin between them, his lips ghosting over your flesh as he gently mouths the area underneath. His hands reach down to cup the backs of your knees and slowly spread your legs so he can settle between them.
After being denied this for so long, you're nearly dripping with desire at this point—no thanks to his sublime ministrations—so the slide when Kylo gently pushes in is effortless, locking the two of you together. He still for a moment once inside of you, his mouth falling open slightly as if in awe. Able to compose him self a little more, he buries his face in your neck as the two of you simply breath a for moment. After what felt like hours, he takes hold of your hips and starts rolling himself up into you in careful thrusts.
One of your hands buries itself in his hair as he continues to wordlessly slide in and out of you, his lips fluttering against your skin as short little exhales escape them.
And it's so slow and sensual and deep that suddenly you feel so loved; how careful he's being with you, showing you how he truly feels without saying or thinking it. It's just the two of you and the slow undulation of his hips into yours, his large hand pulling your leg up higher to rest on his hip bone, the mass of his body encompassing your own almost entirely.
Eventually, when it all becomes too much and the euphoria consumes you, you pull Kylo over the edge with you, your walls milking him through his orgasm as he twitches inside of you. When you both calm, Kylo pulls away from your neck and gently kisses you again, this one long and deep just like your coupling had been.
Despite the tackiness on your skin, the knight slowly pulls his softening member out of you and lifts you onto his chest, your legs twinning together as he draws the covers over you. His hands settling on your back, he buries his face in your hair as he dims the lights with the Force, your own eyes growing heavy with the want to sleep after your long day.
And though you don't want to admit it, this was your favorite part: what comes after.
The falling asleep with his heartbeat beneath your ear. The warm promise of his strong arms encasing you. The reassuring rise and fall of his chest. Just him being there with you.
"I love you," you admit, your voice so soft as you draw slow circles on his chest, "You don't have to say it back. I know that you aren't allowed to." You tuck your head further beneath his chin, allowing your eyes to fall shut. A yawn escapes your lips. "I just thought you should know."
You don't know if you imagine it in the haze of sleep but you swear his arms tighten around you even more.
When you wake in the quiet of the dawn, when the ship is at its quietest hours, you lift your head, bleary eyes blinking at your surroundings. For a moment, you are confused at the change in Hux's office.
But then, you take note of the warmth beneath you, the hot puffs of air that billow over you. And you turn back and look up at the slumbering face of your knight, the man's face serene as it rests on his pillow above you. His lips are lightly parted as he breathes, his brow smooth of all worry.
You know that nothing has changed yet at the same time something is different.
Lowering your head back down, you allow your fingers to gently skim over Kylo's chest once more, your eyes following the lazy movements of your fingertips.
It has to be Snoke, you decide. It's the only plausible thing you can think of and yet, it makes so much sense.
What do you want Kylo?
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter what I want. It only matters what Snoke wants.
You don't have the Force but still know that that is no doubt what he had meant. The Supreme Leader is always the one pulling on the reins, the one that's directing Kylo. And you resent him because of it.
Things from here on out can only get worse, you imagine.
Having very little knowledge of the Force, you do still know that there is evidently a Light side and a Dark side to the ethereal power. But when you think of the Dark, you think of Darth Vader, part of the shadows and inkiness in itself. The man who used to strike fear into the hearts of all at the simple mention of his name. And when you think of the Light... Jedi Masters like Luke Skywalker come to mind.
And Kylo... Well... Kylo is neither of them.
But, you can only imagine that Snoke wants him to be like Vader. And the fact that he isn't no doubt drives him mad.
If anything you experienced in the last couple hours proved anything, it was that Kylo Ren was too soft. Too soft around you. And Snoke feared he would be too soft around your baby.
You resolutely steel yourself in your head, knowing full well that Kylo could relapse into the state he had been in before: the quiet, nervous, and moody shadow of himself that he had been before you had split for those two weeks.
But this time, you know what to expect. And you are ready.
As entirely expected, after your precious night spent together, Kylo rises, his gentle maneuvering of your body causing you to stir. He has shifted beneath you so that he can slip out without waking you but he has failed in his endeavors.
You hum softly, your eyes cracking open as you stare up at the man above you. He doesn't say a word, only stares at your features for a moment before he brushes your hair out of your face and presses a single kiss to your forehead.
After that, he falls into that habit. Kissing you on the forehead everyday. Once when he gets up in the morning, once when he slips into bed with you when the cycle ends.
You don't hardly ever see him during the day unless your paths happen to cross in a meeting, the bridge, or in a corridor. But, he doesn't lift the bottom of his helmet to kiss you if you're alone like he used to. He only spares you a longer look than he would give most before proceeding down the hall.
But this time, you understand.
There are days, though, when he comes home and plants his lips on yours; days were you let him wash you and then return the favor beneath the searing shower water like the night when both sides of your battle conceded.
Then, there are times when your pregnancy hormones kick in and you're the one that needs him. And Kylo gives you what you need, still so careful and controlled, so cautious in his actions.
Still, the baby inside of you grows everyday, your stomach stretching and swelling so that it's actually becoming prominent. Noticeable. You wonder what people will say—what they're already saying. What they think.
And you also can't help but think... What will you tell people when they ask?
Now in the silence of the night, he sits against the headboard, dark eyes staring out into the blackness consuming the room.
He had come home late that night and found you already in bed, fast asleep on your side, your body turned towards the door and, therefore, his side. The blankets are barely covering you as you sleep, one leg entirely sticking out while the other actually has a little coverage. Still, both feet actually stick out.
He wants to cover you up so badly but knows better than to do so; knows that you get hot in the night, causing you to sleep naked half the time. Not that he's complaining about that.
However, right now, you have managed to keep your bra and underwear on; your once lacy, strapy, or sheer push-up bras and silk panties traded for a matching little gray cotton ensemble consisting of a sports bra and boyshorts. You had said fuck you to physical appeal along time ago when your breasts had swelled passed their normal size and were too big for the garments.
Fuck you, sexual appeal. Hello, comfortableness.
But, again, he wasn't complaining.
It was a relief to both of you when you realized that one day, your breasts were no longer sore. And Kylo was able to cup and knead them, his touch still careful for the first few minutes. They filled his palms so beautifully now and he indulged in the opportunity to once more bath them with kisses and love bites. However, you had warned him once that the soreness would eventually return as the months went by which only prompted him to resume his assault of them with that much more gusto.
Your hair is still a bit stringy and damp after having been freshly washed as it lays against your pillow, the comforting scent of your routine shampoo and conditioner filling the bed space.
Silently, he'd stripped down to nothing but his underwear and climbed in beside you, his movements slow so as to not wake you. After all, you would definitely be needing your rest soon.
He doesn't lay down, though, his brain protesting sleep for the time being. So, he just sits, his eyes eventually drifting over to you. How peaceful you look and then down to your belly that is revealed to the cool night air. Eventually, he can't help himself and reaches down to lift the duvet so that it actually covers you.
Kriff.
It was horrible timing.
The shadow of doubt that has lingered around his mind before returns full force as he stares down at your form at his side and the bump protruding from your stomach beneath the covers.
He never wanted this; not for himself but especially for you.
After all, monsters only breed more monsters.
But, you... you aren't a monster. Not in the slightest. You are the stars in the empty void of space that is his life. Pure and bright and full of energy. Sure, you are a Lieutenant in the ranks of the First Order but that doesn't make you a bad person.
You just needed a job and had been headhunted while still attending military school and not one owned by the Order. Instead, you had graduated from a neutral site and had been offered a job in the Order, having been one of the top in your class. And they paid better than the Resistance.
It was only up from there.
He was almost certain you hadn't ever even killed someone before.
So, as he continues to gaze at your stomach, his brow softly furrows. His eyes then flick up to your face, then right back down to your belly. And then, he can't help but begin to wonder...
Once again being careful so as to not jostle you, he pushes the covers back from his body and worms his way down the bed until he is level with the bump. He turns and lays on his side toward you, his head propped up in his hand that's balanced on his elbow, dark eyes glinting in the low light of the room.
Ever so cautiously, he leans forward until the shell of his ear is pressed to the taut flesh. Holding his breath, he listens intently but is somewhat disappointed that he can't hear much of anything.
Withdrawing slightly, he still remains close, taking a moment to gauge your state of sleep. When he finds that you are still buried far in the land of your subconsciousness, he lifts his left hand and carefully rests it on the swell.
He refrains from jolting his hand away when he feels it in the Force, the tiny spark from long ago burning more brightly, a presence itself manifesting in the galaxy apart from your own. And it still feels like you and him; a writhing mixture of both your signatures as they tangle together into a new entity.
But it also feels... innately pure.
Not touched by the Darkness at all.
And for some reason, this simultaneously elates him while causing something inside his stomach to sink. Elation because of the idea of you not giving birth to his hellish seed-spawn.
And dread because the child will have the Darkness beaten into them that much more by Snoke when they are old enough.
Still, those thoughts alone don't stop him from leaning in and over so slightly pressing a feather light kiss to the swell cradling your child. He breathes the word into your skin, "Goodnight."
Kylo does this every night from then on out while you sleep, fingertips lightly dancing across your skin, watching as the bump swells a little more each cycle, the star inside of you burning that much brighter.
And each late night, he whispers his soft farewell before he curls against you and sleeps.
God damnit. All the feels, guys. All the feels.
My teeth have rotted to their core because shit. Why do I do this to myself?
I hope you guys enjoyed it though.
But, again, guys. So many kudos. So many beautiful comments. Why are you all so good to me?
Anyway, if you would like to see more or have suggestions for me, go ahead and drop a kudo or a comment!
Love,
Blue
P.S. You can bother me over on my tumblr at blueeyedwolf33.