Chapter Twenty-Eight: Clash

After three days of coaching, Kylo Ren declared Rey a hopeless cause without skill or merit, and she countered he was just a terrible teacher.

So, lessons were going well.

His mask helped frame their interactions, reinstating a semblance of the boundaries they'd somehow blurred. Mutual dislike reigned supreme, shearing short tempers to absolute stubs, and their furious arguments filled the shuttle at all hours.

The combative pair were currently in the ship's kitchens, vying to see who could shout the loudest and point their finger the most.

"I SAW you lift one of those gorgodons!" Kylo Ren hollered. "This should be EASY!"

Rey snapped her attention up from the metal cup atop the galley counter. "My life was in DANGER at the time!" She reminded.

He scoffed, filling his modulator with his breath. "No, it wasn't."

She made a face. "Why? Because you were there?"

"Precisely."

"Right," she said waspishly. "You're just a grand hero who saved the day."

"Saving did occur," he pointed out.

Rey scrunched her nose. "I didn't need your help."

"Says the girl who can't shift a lone glass even an inch."

"I'd like to see you try with someone SHOUTING AT YOU!"

Kylo Ren flicked his wrist, using the Force to pluck the cup up and send it spinning around her head.

Rey ducked as he aimed it for her ear. "Stop it," she spat.

He made the cup dive down, bump her lower back, and skim over her hip before sailing it out of reach.

Rey stretched up on her tiptoes as she tried grabbing it in midair. "You're NOT funny."

Kylo watched her efforts, somehow pleased she'd referenced humor at all, and opened his mouth before he could regret it. "You sure?" He quipped. "This is quite the picture."

Rey dropped back to her heels. "More hilarity?" She seethed. "Have you discovered a new form of torture?"

He ground his teeth and rocketed the cup into her shoulder hard enough to make her stumble backward.

"OW!" She winced, clutching the end of her clavicle. "QUIT IT!"

"Make me."

Rey rubbed the contact point gingerly. "Are you five?!"

"Are you?"

The woman before him dropped her hands into fists and snarled, "If you don't put that cup down, I'll—!"

"Do what?" Kylo cut in. "Screech me to death?"

A savage look contorted her face. "Maybe I'll mention how I'll change you again," she taunted.

He didn't pause. "Take your little victories where you can," he said dismissively. "At the end of the day, I can manipulate more than dishware."

Rey narrowed her eyes. "I bet a Jedi Master doesn't use threats when training others."

"I'm no Jedi," Kylo returned the glass to the counter, waggling it back and forth for effect before letting it settle.

She went quiet, glancing at the floor. "Me either," she muttered.

"Oh stop," he griped. "There's no room for self-pity here."

A line appeared in her jaw. "What would I have to feel sorry for anyway?" Rey glared back up at him. "Captured by an animal torturing maniac who schemes to overthrow the Resistance? What luck!" She threw up her hands. "Can't imagine why it's hard for me to concentrate."

"Pick up the glass, Rey," Kylo said flatly. "See it in your mind, and focus on your intent."

"I have plenty of intent," she growled.

"Then show me."