Devotion |Kylo Ren x Reader|AU|

~Come Back to Me~

TW--mention of suicide





An ache spreads through your stiff back as you shift in your uncomfortable little chair. Your eyes flutter open, offering you the same view you had been staring at for more than ten hours now. The firm, unattractive green fabric of the chair provided little comfort. That chair had been your home since you had arrived at the hospital. You had been fading in and out of sleep for a while now. The exhaustion was unbearable but your nerves were keeping you awake.

The first few hours had been pure torture. A lot of crying and begging and pleading for Kylo's life. You had paced around the waiting room like a madwoman, practically tearing your hair out. Your nails had been chewed down from all of the stress gnawing away at you from the inside out. The nurses had insisted that you get changed out of your blood-stained clothes, but you refused for fear of missing something.

Around two hours later, the news had come back to you. Kylo had survived surgery. He wasn't out of the woods yet, but he had certainly reached a clearing for the time being. You had all but sprinted into the room he was being held in, heartbroken by his state.

You yawn widely, eyes heavy from the weight of it all. The hospital had offered you a pair of loose sweats and a t-shirt; it wasn't much, but it would do for now and it was far better than sitting around in bloody clothing. You slowly lower your legs from having hugged your knees up to your chest in your sleep. They ache, muscles complaining about you putting them to use again.

The small gash on your cheekbone that had been caused by the gun had been fixed up and was being held together by a little butterfly band-aid, but the bruises on your face would not heal without time. Besides, your wounds were nothing compared to Kylo's. He was sporting a sprained wrist, a gashed thigh that had been stitched and wrapped, and the gaping wound in his abdomen from where the bullet had shot through him. He was healed but... weakened.

You swallow thickly, leaning your head back against the wall as you observe him. The scratchy bed sheets and blue hospital gown practically swallowed him whole. Kylo had always appeared so big to you but now he just looked... small. His pale skin was sickly beneath the fluorescent hospital lights, bringing out the scar on his face even more-so than before. Kylo's once-godly side profile had been weakened by the dark circles, bruises, and sunken cheeks.

Sighing heavily, you push yourself up from the chair. Your stomach growls at you and your muscles scream for you to sit back down, but you ignore both warnings. You trudge over to the bed and sink down onto the edge of the mattress to further observe his dreary state. There were IV tubes running into his forearms, feeding him what he had been deprived of for so long. You reach out, resting your hand atop his. His hands were so much colder than you could ever remember them being. His pointer finger was trapped by a clamp that helped to keep tabs on his heartbeat. The faint beeping of the machine was the only thing giving you hope.

Your heart aches for him as your throat tightens. At this point you thought you had no tears left to cry, but it seemed you were mistaken. With trembling fingers, you reach out to cup his equally cold face. You run them through his messy hair, staring at his resting eyelids, silently pleading with him to wake up. Your tears drip down your face and soak into your baggy shirt as you lean down to press a long kiss to his forehead.

"I'm sorry," you whimper as you bury your face in his neck. "This is my fault. This is all my... my f-fault."

It should have been you getting shot by Snoke. It should have been you laying in this hospital bed. No. You should have been dead by now. If Kylo had just pulled that damned trigger when he was supposed to, he wouldn't have been dying. If you had chosen not to stay with him, he wouldn't have gotten shot in the first place. You knew that if he was awake, he wouldn't be blaming you, but that didn't stop you from taking it out on yourself.