Shameful | Congressman!Kylo x Reader

Chapter 4: Isn't That How Elections Work?

hey :) it's rainy where i am so i am just writin' up a storm. this is a longer one! and i'm literally going to start on ch5 right after I publish this one because i'm just that excited!! can't express enough how grateful I am for y'all's feedback and support <3 couldn't do this without you

There was no fucking way I was going to work for Kylo Ren's congressional campaign.

For the next couple days after my chat with Ren, I set up calls with practically every political contact in my Rolodex. Plenty of local campaigns offered me jobs merely hours after news broke about Poe's loss, but I had a mortgage to pay. I did my time on city council and county commissioner campaigns — I'm never one to undermine the sincere importance of local elections, but I was determined to stay in the big leagues. I loved the drama of it all. After all, Vicrul was right— I was kind of out of a job.

As I scoured progressive job boards on my phone, third cigarette of the morning nestled between my lips, I received a FaceTime from Poe.

"Hey, you," his raspy morning voice echoed through the speaker. "See you're still smoking up a storm. Very Cool French Girl of you."

I squeaked out a laugh. "Hey, yeah. You know better than anyone that I smoke when I'm stressed."

"Tsk tsk. What's there to be stressed about?"

"Looking for jobs. Hux's old Field Director is working on a consultant firm of her own after his whole...thing... so that's a warm lead. I also totally promised myself I wouldn't work another state senate race after 2018. I ate goldfish for lunch every day. But we won, so..."

"I'm guessing your chat with Ren didn't go well?"

Even hearing Ren's name put me on edge. Our night had continued with palpable sexual tension dotted throughout. He took every one of my jabs in stride, still insistent that I come manage his campaign. After another more glass of mezcal and a gimlet that he promised would knock my socks off, I realized he was genuinely charming me, and I couldn't have that.

I'd learned that his favorite drink was an old fashioned (because of fucking course), he worked remotely under a pseudonym for Warren's presidential campaign, and he collected stamps. Stamps.

During lulls in our conversation, he'd earnestly, quietly ask, "You'll really think about it?"

I'd bite back with, "Stop asking or I'll change my mind."

After I spotted Rey walking into the bar with her girlfriend, I decided to call it a night. I didn't have the bandwidth to begin to explain to her why I was snuggled in a booth drinking across from Kylo Ren.

As I gathered my things and started to get up, Ren's warm hand enveloped mine. I tried to pull it back, but he held it firmly.

"Please," he breathed my name. "Please think about it."

I wordlessly shot him a tight-lipped smile, slid my hand out of his grasp, and snuck away. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time as I walked out.

"The bastard really wants me to work for him."

"I know. He called me late last night. After you left."

"He did?" I took a long drag off my cigarette.

"He did."

"And?" I gestured erratically with my free hand.