Reylo: These Violent Delights

Chapter 11: Guilt

WARNING: Sexual assault (groping) by two Stormtroopers.

—

There was no more pain, no more sorrow.

It was always like this in the happy place Rey had constructed in her mind. A content sigh slipped through her lips as she floated in the vast, serene lake. Wildflowers rustled in the wind on either side of her as birds chirped their pretty songs, taking flight into the deep, brilliant blue sky. She closed her eyes and smiled, dragging her fingers through the water that cradled her body. Nothing in the universe could ruin this moment.

"Pet."

A low, familiar voice shattered her bliss. Her eyes flew open, terror seizing her heart. No. Please no.

"Rey."

It was so far away and distorted, it came to her like a broken hologram, unnerving enough to pull her closer to consciousness. She fiercely resisted the pull; she didn't want to leave. It was calm and peaceful and pretty, and she wanted to watch the birds fly and hear the wind howl in the trees. She wanted to rest. But then those four little words floated in the air, caressing her like an unwanted kiss, and her safe place was ripped out from under her.

"Submit to me, Kitten."

"No!" Rey yelled, shooting up in bed. Besides the sound of her thumping heart, she was met with deafening silence. Too afraid to move, she started by dropping her gaze down to whatever the hell she was sitting on.

What in the galaxy?

She frowned. She had never been here before; she had never even felt a comforter as soft as this. Nor had she been on a bed this damn huge in her entire life. For a split second, Rey thought she was dead, and she had somehow managed to elude the eternity she had been expecting to live in Hell.

But then she lifted her head, and her heart dropped. This wasn't some form of the afterlife; Rey was onboard the First Order's headquarters, which was basically just as bad as Hell. The immaculate cleanliness of the room told her that, since the Resistance didn't have anything even remotely as sophisticated as this stuff, as did the view of an entire fleet of dreadnoughts from the window across from her. Well, it wasn't a window, really, it was an entire wall of glass, showcasing the millions of stars in the galaxy, and the massive, green planet the ship was stationed above.

Aside from the First Order vessels, the view was beautiful. Yet, Rey also found it off-putting. She shouldn't be in such a nice, comfortable room. She couldn't remember everything that had happened up to this point, but she knew that she was Kylo Ren's prisoner, and he needed something from her that she kept denying him...

Her brows pulled together. Yeah. Why am I still alive? Or even allowed outside of my cell?

She cautiously scanned the room. To her right was a wall of ancient texts and a closed door. To the left was another door on one end and a simple, sleek desk near the observation wall. Next to that was a weird-looking shrine with something charred sitting in the center. She got on her knees and squinted to get a better look at it, but she couldn't make out what it was. All she could see was that it sat in a pile of a black, powdery substance.

What the—

"I trust you slept well, pet," she heard a deep, unmodified voice say from somewhere in the room.

Rey whipped her head toward the sound, falling back on her ass when she realized Kylo didn't have his helmet on. Unless he could materialize into thin air, she concluded he came from the door on the right. She eyed him as he hovered by the wall of ancient books. He was dressed in all black—no surprise there—with his back to her. All she could see was his textured, wavy hair that was so dark, it matched his stupid cape. She leaned forward, hoping to somehow see his face.

He turned his head slightly, but not enough for her to get a glimpse of him. "Well?"

"No," is all Rey said, but truth be told—she didn't even remember what he had asked her. She was too focused on trying to see if he did look like Jabba the Hutt.

The Supreme Leader clicked his tongue. "The drool you left on my pillow says otherwise, Kitten."

"You're welcome." Rey narrowed her eyes at the back of his big head. "And I'm not a kitten. Don't call me that."

"How else will I aggravate you?" he mused, so quietly it sounded as though he was speaking to himself, not her.

"Just by breathing," she shot back, glaring at him as he casually lifted his arm to grab something on the shelf. "So you can call me by my real name."

Kylo pivoted to the side again, still not showing his face, and started to pull his gloves on. He made a small tsking sound. "That's not who you are anymore."

"Just because I'm your prisoner doesn't mean anything has changed," she spat, her pulse drumming with anger. "My name is still Rey. It's who I am, who I will always be."

"Don't you know? Everything has changed," Kylo said, voice still low and contemplative. There was a brief pause as he picked up his helmet and placed it over his head. After she heard his breathing apparatus click into place, he turned toward her. "You're mine now, Rey," he mocked with an exaggerated emphasis. "My little pet."

She scowled at him. "You're sick, messed up in the head."

"Why, thank you," he drawled, taking lazy steps toward the bed. "How did you sleep?"

Rey looked away, crossing her arms over her chest. She had so many questions—why was she here, why was she alive—but she couldn't fathom looking at that kriffing mask for a second longer.

He sounded amused. "Any dreams?"

A sour taste formed in Rey's mouth. He was taunting her by making small talk, by teasing her with a taste of normalcy. But monsters didn't make small talk. They just made people hurt. "Kriff. Off."

"Hm," Kylo hummed, stopping at the foot of the bed. "That's no way to speak to the person you slept with last night."

Rey tried to control her reaction but failed miserably. And when she finally looked at that stupid, lifeless mask, she felt panic rise to the surface. Her memory was still fuzzy; the last thing she remembered was collapsing in General Hux's office, then being dragged through the ship by Stormtroopers and walking into a dark, defunct kitchen, and then...somehow, she ended up here.

"We..." she started, swallowing. Hugging herself tighter, Rey let out a shaky whisper. "What happened?"

"You gave me what I wanted."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Which was...what, exactly?"

"You granted me access to the deepest, darkest part of your psyche."

"Oh, yeah, that," she mumbled, darting her eyes to the floor, then tentatively back at his mask. She felt sick, while on the other hand, Kylo's posture was completely at ease—as always. "So, um, are you going to tell me what you dug out from my brain?"

"I could." Kylo placed his hands behind his back. "But it's better if I don't."

"Uh, why?"

"You aren't ready for that."

"Why not?"

"It will distress you."

Rey gave him an odd look. "Why does that matter to you?"

"It doesn't," he said in that monotone, modified voice. "But it should matter to you. What you endured is not designed for anybody to remember, let alone survive. Remembering will only compromise your mental state."

"Too late for that," she mumbled, her lip pulling down. "So, if it wasn't designed for my survival, why did I survive?" When Kylo didn't say anything, she gave him an annoyed look. "Hello?"

If Rey could see his face, she'd assume a taunting smirk would be playing across his lips. "Hi."

Her hands curled into fists, her heart slamming in her chest. "Screw your hi—tell me what you did to me in that room, and tell me why I am here in your bed."

"I already told you. You let me into the depths of your psyche."

"And nothing else? You didn't touch me?"

"I did touch you." The Supreme Leader paused. "But not in the way you're thinking."

Rey grit her teeth. "Then in what way?"

He gestured toward the bed. "I carried you here."

She let out an agitated huff. "Okay, fine. You didn't touch me in there, but what happened after you carried me to your quarters?"

"I let you sleep."

"And after that?"

Kylo cocked his head to the side. "You woke up."

"Okay, but between falling asleep and waking up, what happened? Did we, did I..." Rey didn't even want to finish that sentence. She stared at him expectantly.

"Did you drool on my pillow?" Kylo paused in silence before nodding. "Yes, yes, you did."

Rey threw up her hands in exasperation. "For star's sake, what did you mean by we slept together? Does that mean we fucked?"

"No. It means we slept together."

"So...as in, we just slept next to each other?"

"Yes."

Rey scrunched her nose up. "Ew. Why did you sleep next to me?"

Kylo outstretched his hands in a sweeping motion. "It's my bed."

"Right. But why make me sleep in it with you?"

"Aw, I'm sorry," he baited, leaving the end of the bed to approach her on the side. "Do you prefer being restrained in a prison cell?"

Rey pursed her lips, thinking about it for a moment. The bed did feel amazing, but it wasn't worth it if she had to sleep next to a mass murderer. It just didn't feel right, and she didn't like the idea of being unconscious and at his will. As he stopped to tower over her, she scooted across the comforter to get away from him.

"Depends," Rey mused, peering up at him as she pulled her shirt down over her knees. "How do I know that nothing happened in here? That you didn't touch me?"

The Supreme Leader sounded offended. "You're sorely mistaken if you think I would ever touch a scavenger and criminal like you."

Rey shook her head, insistent. "But how do I know for sure?"

Kylo repositioned, his posture tensing. "You don't. You just have to trust me."

She jolted, her mouth opened in incredulity, and just stared at the big, funny man in the mask. And then, as the silence stretched on, Rey realized he was being serious. Something strong, something delirious boiled up from her gut—laughter.

"Trust," she panted between cackles, "you?" She threw her head back, letting herself enjoy the genuinely amusing sentiment. "Oh my gods, you're a damn wacko if you think I would ever trust you."

"You think too highly of yourself, Rey." His heavy footsteps crossed the floor—away from her, thankfully. "And too lowly of me."

Rey rolled over on her side, clutching her stomach as she rode out her fit of laughter. She tried to stop, but when she glanced at Kylo standing still, his mask locked on her face, another wave of laughter hit her. "Who knew," she breathed, giving him a toothy grin, "that you had such a keen sense of humor?"

"That's enough."

Rey gave him the most serious face she could muster. "Aye, aye, captain."

The Supreme Leader rolled his shoulders, flexing his fists by his sides. Yep, definitely pissed off. Rey beamed at him.

Kylo outstretched his hand. "Come, pet."

She bit her lip, trying really hard to keep it together. "Where we going?"

"After you eat, we are going to the prisoner's wing to clean you up."

She stilled. "Like, a shower?"

"Yes."

She gestured around the room. "Um...don't you have a shower here?"

"I do."

"Then...?"

"No." He gave a curt shake of his head. "You need constant supervision."

"Uh, I don't know what weird shit you do with your other prisoners, but I am perfectly capable of washing myself," Rey said, inching to the side of his bed. Setting her feet on the ground, she whispered, "Pervert."

"I heard that."

She gave him a sweet smile. "Good."

No response. Kylo didn't even move. He just stood by the door that led out of his room, keeping his mask pinned on her face. She bit her tongue. She wanted to say something else to annoy him, sing a song, perhaps, but Rey didn't want to push her luck any more than she already had. She settled with rolling her eyes, standing up and walking over to him. "Let's get this over with. Shower only, though. I'm not hungry."

Kylo didn't respond as he guided her through the rest of his quarters. She glanced around, gawking at how nice it was before he led her down a long, empty corridor that ended at a turbolift. Both of them—two sworn enemies—stood beside each other in complete silence, which somehow made the cheery elevator music almost as comical as it was out of place on a dreadnought capable of obliterating entire civilizations.

Rey's lip tugged down into a frown. I don't think things could get weirder than this.

As the doors opened into a busy part of the ship, Kylo stepped in front of her, waving a hand over her face. "You will follow me with obedience."

Duh. "I will follow you with obedience."

The Supreme Leader tore out of the turbolift, and Rey followed—obediently. She kept her eyes locked on his back while her feet swiftly carried her forward, per his demand, but she was a prisoner in her own mind. Thanks to his Force-coercion, she couldn't escape even if she tried, though, internally, she was obsessing about how to escape. But unfortunately for Rey, the ability to physically look around eluded her. All she could see was his wide ass in front of her, and all she could hear was the noisy chatter of First Order twats doing whatever First Order twats did, accompanied by the endless respects they paid Jabba as he stalked through the corridors.

They paid Rey no mind, much to her approval. She hadn't showered or even looked in a mirror in what, two weeks? Maybe longer? It was best if people didn't spend too much time looking in her direction, so when she arrived at the prisoner's facilities, she could have jumped with joy.

"Oh, thank the stars," she cried, standing before two long rows of showers on either side of the room. Even though there was no privacy glass between stalls, and Rey was pretty sure the mirror on one wall was a two-way mirror, it was still the nicest communal washroom she'd ever seen. It was clean, well-lit, and with multiple soap dispensers per shower, and at this point, she didn't even care if she had to be supervised.

"Clean up nicely, Rey," Kylo's amused voice called out from behind her. "You have a very important meeting with the General after this."

She threw him a nasty look over her shoulder. "Great, can you leave now?"

The Supreme Leader didn't respond, nor did he move to leave—not until she made an annoyed shoo gesture with her hands. Finally, he turned around and walked through the doors, and Rey let out a deep breath, enjoying the first speck of control she had since she was taken.

"Hallelujah," she muttered, turning toward the first shower on her left. In one seamless tug, Rey pulled her shirt over her head, stripping down to the nude. She turned the water on and waited for it to get hot, frowning when she realized that it didn't get hot.

Oh well, she thought as she inched under the cool stream. A cold shower is better than no shower.

Rey had just gotten her hair wet when she heard the whoosh of the doors opening. Minding her own business, she opened one eye to see two Stormtroopers sauntering through the entrance with their weapons raised. She figured this was what the Supreme Leader had meant by needing supervision, so she ignored them to focus on washing the grime off her body. They settled nearby but not close enough to alarm or stop her from enjoying her shower. The frigid water was terribly uncomfortable, but watching the dirt swirl down the drain gave her a deep sense of satisfaction. She waited until it ran clear to start actually washing herself, using a combination of all the soaps available to lather on her skin.

Next, Rey tried really hard to work through the mats in her hair, but she'd need a brush, conditioner, and, quite frankly, a miracle to remedy that problem. So she moved on, humming as she shifted to face the mirror across from her. Her heart dropped when she saw the full view of her body. She looked way worse than she imagined. She had always been thin, mainly because she rarely had consistent access to food, but now, Rey's ribs protruded dramatically below her breasts, and her hip bones looked more prominent than usual. The bags under her light eyes mimicked bruises, her once-glowing skin was dull and pallid, and her hair looked way worse than it felt. The tune she was humming died in her throat.

Rey looked like a true prisoner of war; she looked like shit.

Yeah, no. I don't need that type of negativity in my life. She spun back around to focus on more pleasant things, such as trying to make her hair stick up straight with globs of soap. She almost had it, but a soft thud from somewhere beside her broke her concentration, and her hair flopped over, hitting her in the eye.

"Ow," she whined, dipping below the stream to get the suds off her face. She didn't bother looking in the direction where she heard the noise—she knew it was one of the Stormtroopers, and she decided she didn't want that type of negativity in her life, either.

But then he called Rey her favorite nickname. "Hey, look over here, scavenger slut."

She rolled her eyes and glanced at him. He was standing two stalls down, his blaster pointed at the bar of soap on the ground. "Pick this up."

Rey snorted, returning her attention to her hair. "Yeah, no. Kriff off."

From her peripherals, she saw the Stormtrooper walk toward her. "I said—" he jeered, blaster raised.

"Pick it up," the second Stormtrooper finished, who came out of nowhere, closing in on her from the other side.

Rey tensed at their proximity, but she didn't react. She knew that's what they wanted, so she proceeded to wash the soap out of her hair. But that backfired when one of them hit her in the back of the head. Hard. So hard that the impact sent her stumbling forward. After her palms caught her fall against the wall, she stood there for a moment. Her first instinct was to kill them, steal their weapons and armor, then proceed to board the nearest shuttle and kiss this place fucking adieu. But she knew that would be impossible with her pervert captor lingering somewhere around the showers, so that was a no-go. Of course, she could fight back and kill them just for fun, but seeing as how she was already living on borrowed time, she didn't want to piss the Supreme Leader off any more than she already had by making an unnecessary mess.

"Are you dumb, stupid bitch? I said, pick it up!"

Exercising all of her self-control, Rey glanced at them with a taunting smile. "And I said, kriff off."

They attacked. She yelled and tried to slip between them, but she lost her footing on the wet floor, allowing them to grab her arms and secure her against the wall. They turned off the shower and pressed against her.

She thrashed in their grasp. "Let go of me, you—"

A gloved hand covered her mouth while another sloppily grabbed at her breasts. She tried to bite the hand over her mouth, but he was holding it so tightly she couldn't sink her teeth in. She started violently pushing against them as one of their hands slid down her stomach, but then, their hands flew off her body. Literally.

It all happened so fast. One moment, they had Rey pinned, and the next, they were writhing and screaming on the floor. She didn't realize why or how they were thrown off her, but then she saw the Supreme Leader stride through the doors.With his boots assaulting the floor, robes whipping behind him, and the lights reflecting off the metal of his mask—evenshe had to take a step back. She could sense he was furious, and as he stretched out his hand, flicking his wrist, a sickening crack emanated from their helmets.

Rey's heart jumped to her throat when she realized the Supreme Leader just snapped their necks without even touching them. She remained frozen against the wall, too afraid to move, but when he pointed his mask toward her, words started gushing out of her mouth. "I, I didn't do anything, I swear! I didn't even instigate it, I was just showering, and they, they attacked me, I promise!"

Rey swallowed, waiting for him to say something as she prayed silently in her head. And please don't snap my neck, you big, scary caped man. Thank you very much.

After a few agonizing moments of silence passed, Kylo stepped over the dead bodies, making his way to the end of the room. Standing in front of a row of floor-length cabinets, he made a claw with his hand and ripped the door off its hinges with a snap. She wanted to ask him what the hell was going on, but she was afraid that if she spoke up, she'd end up stuffed inside one of those lockers. But when he made his way back to her, all he did was hold out a towel for her to take.

Rey just stared at him for a moment, like an idiot, before rushing to cover her breasts the best she could with one hand. Then she grabbed the towel from him, and he turned his mask away from her body. She raised a brow as she started to dry off. Jabba's pretending to be chivalrous, I see.

Once she was dry, she tried to make her hair less of a wet, ratty mess, but it was a moot point. She waited patiently as she clutched the towel against her, unsure of what to do next, until Kylo extended her shirt and new undergarments in her direction. She took them, hastily slipping them on and wrapping her hair in the towel. Not wanting to end up like the poor, dead bastards on the floor, Rey stood there in silence after she was done.

The Supreme Leader turned his head toward her, just an inch. "Finished?"

She nodded, and he rotated to face her, his hand hovering over her face. "You will follow me with obedience."

Understanding flooded her mind, like what he said was the only truth in the galaxy. "I will follow you with obedience."

The return journey to his quarters was spent in a haze. Rey kept her eyes fixated on his back as she had before, and while a part of her knew that she was under Force-compulsion, she welcomed the quiet, pleasant numbness it offered after that shower from Hell. But the moment she became aware of her surroundings, the comfortable daze dissipated when she found herself sitting on the floor at the foot of Kylo's bed. She blinked, focusing on the back of his helmet as he sat at his desk, facing the view of the galaxy.

Rey frowned. "Why am I here?" He didn't respond, and she let out an agitated huff. "Hello?"

He turned his mask to the side, his back to her. "Do you prefer your cell?"

"Would you be in there with me?"

"No."

"Then yes," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He shook his head and looked forward again. "So stubborn."

She snorted. "Not wanting to spend time with my enemy doesn't make me stubborn. It makes me smart."

"You're in quite the mood," Kylo uttered, leaning forward to place his elbows on his desk. "Has your appetite returned?"

"No, and neither has my will to live. So get over here and put me out of my misery." When he didn't reply, Rey added, "Pretty please?"

"No."

She groaned. "What are you even doing over there?"

"Meditating."

"But why?"

"Because I want to."

"But I thought I had a big, important meeting with the General."

"You do."

"Uhhhh, then why am I here, sitting at the foot of your bed like a dog?"

"You refused to sit on my bed," Kylo mused, and she could hear the lick of amusement in his tone as he said, "and not like a dog, more like a kitten."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I hate you."

"I'm devastated."

Rey fought the urge to stand up and strangle this man. "Tell me, dear Supreme Leader, when am I attending this meeting with the General?"

Kylo rolled his shoulders. "Next week, when I return from my assignment."

"Next week?" she whined, "you said it was today."

"You're eager..." he started, slightly moving his head to the side again, "to see the General of the First Order army?"

"Mhm," she hummed, "I want to talk to him now that I can actually think straight. He didn't get the full dose of my attitude—you know, the whole experience that is me—and I need to fix that."

"Ah," is all he said as he directed his gaze forward. "You will have to wait. I moved it to next week."

"But why?"

"Because I said so."

"Oh, for star's sake." Rey rolled her eyes. "Come on, Jabba, when are you going to tell me why I'm here? And why I'm even alive?"

Even from where she sat, she could see his shoulders tense. "You will call me by name or my title. Nothing else."

"Fine, but only if you do the same. I'm tired of throwing up in my mouth every time you call me Kitten." Again, no acknowledgment, so Rey pounded on the floor with a closed fist. "Hellllooooo, I asked you a question. Why are you keeping me alive?"

When the silence droned on, she attempted to antagonize him to get his attention. She unwrapped the towel around her head and sent it soaring across the room. She sighed over and over and over again. She started humming and singing and thumping her legs on the floor but still—not an ounce of recognition from him. No matter how much noise she made, Kylo remained unfazed. It infuriated her.

"You know I would kill you the second I got a chance, right?" Rey flared, glaring at the back of his head. "I would slit your throat and throw a party afterwards."

Finally, Kylo made a small hum of acknowledgment through his mask.

"So why are you keeping me here in your quarters while you're doing this?" she said, throwing up her hands. "I mean, really, I could grab a kitchen knife and shove it through your shoulder blades while you're busy meditating."

"You're welcome to try."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, big guy."

Silence. His body was so still, Rey wasn't sure he even heard her. Groaning, she crossed her arms, flinging her head back against the mattress. It was clear he was keeping her in his room just to torture her with silence.

Fantastic.

The minutes ticked by while she continued to sulk, her hatred mounting with every passing second in his presence. Once she tired of singing and trying to annoy the ever-living shit out of him, Rey thought it would be a good idea to attempt to get the mats out of her hair. To say that was an unsuccessful pursuit would be a massive understatement.

After a few minutes, she had to stop; it was too tangled to be managed. Every pull and tug in the endeavor to unknot it hurt like a bitch, irritating her scalp and snarling the strands further. So, Rey gave up and decided to accept her fate as the Supreme Leader's pet, mangled hair and all. She stretched out on the floor—not unlike a cat—and started humming to herself again.

Four thousand years later, a thread of hope shot through her when Kylo stood up and disappeared through the door on the right. She lithely got to her feet, keeping her eyes on the door as she took backward steps—but he emerged before she got very far.

"Damn." Rey dejectedly dropped to the floor to sit again. "I thought I got lucky, and you were sucked into the void of space or something like that."

Kylo didn't say anything as he walked right toward her. She stiffened and dropped her eyes to his hands—he was holding a bottle of something and a black, slender comb. She craned her neck up when he stopped right in front of her. "Lost, Jabba?"

"Turn around."

Rey frowned. "Ummm, no?"

The Supreme Leader squatted in front of her, and she scooted back as she eyed him. He raised a hand and pointed at the end of the bed, his gloves growing taut over his fingers. "Face that way."

She pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, tilting her head at him. "What happens if I don't?"

"Then I can't brush your hair."

"Excuse me, what?" Rey said, jolting back. If she wasn't so confused, she'd laugh. "I can brush my own hair, you know."

Kylo cracked his neck, agitation rolling off him as though he were exercising all of his self-control not to snap her neck. "I'm aware."

"Then..." she trailed off, giving him the best then what the hell? gesture with her hands.

Kylo trained his mask down at his hands and set the bottle of detangler on the floor. He twisted the comb in his fingertips and tapped the end, highlighting how sharp the tool was.

Rey scoffed. "I wouldn't actually attack you while you're meditating. Despite what you think, I'm not that dumb."

"It's not me I'm worried about."

Her forehead creased. She didn't understand. He continued to watch her, and eventually, slowly, Rey got what he meant. He's worried I'll use it on myself. "Yeah, no—I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of killing myself, Jabba."

"It's Supreme Leader, to you." Kylo repositioned his weight. "And you wanted to die this past week. I felt it."

She looked at him like he was crazy. "Uh, yeah, I was being tortured. And I was exhausted. I wasn't thinking straight." She paused, then locked her eyes on the visor of his helmet, desperately wishing she could see through it. "Why would it matter to you if I killed myself? Why in the galaxy are you keeping me alive?"

Even with the vocoder, Rey could sense the mockery in his tone. "You heard Hux. He has big plans for you."

"Okay, yeah, sure, but I don't get why that means I have to stay in here with you, and why you feel the need to brush my hair." She raised a brow, a slow, taunting smile finding her face. "Sorry to break your heart, but I'm not playing dolly with you."

"It's either this or we shave it off."

The amusement on Rey's face dried up. She visualized herself with a bald head and shuddered—it would not look good. Letting out a small sigh of defeat, she turned around to face the end of the bed. "I hate you."

Kylo shuffled behind her. "Closer."

She bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't want to give him what he wanted, but she didn't want a bald head, either. So, pouting the whole time, Rey inched back until she felt his knees digging into her back. She tensed the moment his hands touched her head, remaining perfectly still as he grabbed a small clump of her hair. However, she relaxed just a bit when he began brushing it out from the tips up. Oddly, it did not hurt, almost like he knew what he was doing.

Rey frowned. Okay, I lied. Things could, and did, get weirder.

Behind her, Kylo adjusted his position on the floor, closing the space between them. When his hands left her head, she started to turn around to face him—she didn't want any surprises, not when he was this close to her.

"Stay facing forward."

Rey hesitantly obeyed; she didn't trust the Supreme Leader with that sharp tool in his hand. Suddenly, a low hiss filled the air, and something clattered to the ground, landing with a loud thump. Her eyes got wide. Did he just...?

"Your hair is a mess. I need better visibility."

She froze, his deep, sensual voice taking her by surprise again. It sent shivers crawling up her spine, and as he continued to brush her hair, she spiraled, thinking about what his face looked like. She knew all about the man before Kylo Ren, but General Organa had never shown her a holophoto, even though she talked about him often, sharing stories about his childhood and how much she loved him. Rey's shoulders dropped. Thinking about who he used to be made her heart feel heavy.

Leia had said he was always a passionate boy who loved to talk, his enthusiasm oftentimes lighting up a room. He was tenderhearted, too—she told Rey how as a child, he showed great empathy for the orphans on Coruscant, just like her. That vision of him had stuck with Rey: the sensitive, kind little boy who grew into a cold-blooded killer. Then there was the one night Leia had grabbed her hand and so seriously said, I count down the days it is time for you to meet the man behind the mask again. At the time, Rey had just brushed it off and smiled—she figured her General had too much to drink and didn't realize what she was saying. Never in a million lightyears did she believe that she would actually meet the Supreme Leader, especially as he brushed her hair in his bedroom.

Like his little pet.

Rey shuddered. She was a pet, the prisoner of the man that used to be Ben Solo. The man that used to read books with his father late at night, snuggled into the crook of his arm as his eyelids grew heavy in the warmth of his star-shaped bed. The same father that he would grow up to kill. She blinked, angry at herself for the sadness that seeped into her bones. That little boy is dead. He's a monster now, and he's going to hurt you.

The snap of a bottle opening and the flowery scent of the detangler filled the air. Gloveless now, Kylo grasped her hair, rubbed the conditioner in, and brought his fingers to her scalp. She tensed, afraid of his next move, but then he started massaging her and Rey was thrown into unexpectant bliss. She suppressed a moan and leaned into his hands, closing her eyes to pretend it was someone else giving her a massage. Drox, maybe. Yes, Drox. That's it.

She imagined her lover was the one massaging her scalp, his hands sliding down and tenderly touching her neck, giving her chills and making her body melt against him. Her lips parted just a little, releasing the softest of sighs—she needed this. Even though she had been quite busy doing prisoner things following her arrival here, Rey couldn't help the sexual frustration that had been steadily building since she was taken.

She exhaled again, getting lost in his touch as she tilted her face downward, giving him better access to her neck. His fingertips expertly dug in deeper, focusing on her stressed pressure points before creeping down toward her shoulders, squeezing and kneading as he went. Even without her growing needs, sleeping in the interrogation chair, then her cold, hard cell...well, Rey's body needed the rubdown, and yeah, she was that desperate for a massage, even if it was courtesy of a psychopath in a cape.

Kylo slid his hands back up the tightest part of her neck, and this time, she couldn't stop the moan from slipping through her lips. "Oh, gods."

"There it is," Kylo muttered, clicking his tongue in approval. "Give in, Kitten."

Her eyes shot open, his infuriating name for her snapping her out of her trance, and she scrambled away from him. Spinning around, she immediately came face-to-face with the man behind the mask, and her lips parted in surprise. He was handsome and young, with a strong jaw and sensual lips sloping down into a slight frown. A jagged scar tore across his skin, a brutal contrast to his otherwise striking features, and as she gawked at him, his deep brown eyes bored into her with an intensity she could feel to her core.

Rey swallowed. Okay, so he's not Jabba's twin. Got it.

She shifted uncomfortably; she was not expecting the Supreme Leader to look like that. She thought he was older, ugly. His features twisted due to the negative influences of the dark side. She had no idea the man behind the mask was simply a man. A kriffing attractive man at that, one that she instantly felt connected with.

Desperate to deny that feeling, Rey spat out the first insult she could think of. "No wonder you wear a mask, Jabba."

Kylo's nostrils flared, his bottom lip trembling as he pushed himself off the ground and looked down at her from the tip of his nose. He was silent, but the weight of his gaze was powerful enough to make her flinch. This time, she had really pissed him off. More than that, she had insulted him, and she wasn't able to breathe properly until he tore away from her to stride to his desk.

Rey shakily got on her feet, preparing for him to whip out a blaster to blow her head off her shoulders, but all Kylo grabbed from the drawer was a commlink. He kept his back to her as he spoke into it. "Gather the scavenger from my quarters. At once."

A voice immediately whined over the frequency. "Yes, sir!"

The Supreme Leader slammed the device down before rolling his shoulders and neck. She stayed quiet as she stood beside the bed; she didn't have the Force, but she was smart enough to know when to keep her big mouth shut. Well, sometimes.

Seconds later, the tap, tap, tap at the front made Rey jump. Without looking at her, Kylo left the bedroom and pounded to his front doors. She heard the clinking of armor, and she took timid steps out into the living area to greet her Stormtrooper friends.

"We have come for your prisoner, Supreme Leader."

Kylo stepped aside to let them in. "Take her."

"Yes, sir!" one Stormtrooper said, walking toward her. He gripped her arm and yanked her across the room.

"Hey, I can walk myself," Rey hissed, pushing him away. The Stormtrooper didn't like that, nor did the other one—they each grabbed her arms to drag her away. "Ow, stop, you're hurting me!"

"Let Rey go," the Supreme Leader demanded, and they dropped her arms immediately and backed away from her. "You will not touch her."

"Yes, sir."

Confused as all hell, Rey brought her arms across her chest, rubbing at the spots where they had dug their fingers into her. She chanced a look at her captor. He was looking right at her with those dark, serious eyes, and something crazy washed over her. Guilt.

"I'm..." she started, but Rey didn't know how to say what she wanted to say, and he didn't look like he wanted to hear her speak, anyways.

Before turning away, Kylo nodded toward the exit. "You will escort her to her cell."

"Yes, sir!"

As he walked past her, Rey pivoted to call out to him. "Wait, Jabba—I mean, Supreme Leader." He didn't stop.

"We're leaving, prisoner scum," one of the 'troopers said. "Come on, move your ass."

She took small steps forward, keeping her eyes on the Supreme Leader as he moved away from her. "Kylo."

This time, he paused in the doorway leading to his bedroom. His back stiffened, straightening before he turned to look at her, gaze unflinching and lips set into a hard line. Rey gulped at his intensity; so many times she had wished to stand face-to-face without the shield of his mask obscuring his eyes, but now she just wanted to escape his penetrating glare.

"I just wanted to say...thank you," she said slowly, her tongue feeling like lead in her mouth. "For stopping the Stormtroopers earlier."

He gave her one curt nod, his eyes searching her face. That was all he did, but the silence that followed was loud, powerful, and she felt a shift in the energy between them. The connection...it deepened, it strengthened, it consumed Rey as she peered at his face. She felt it, Kylo felt it, and seeing as how the Stormtrooper cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, the poor bastard probably felt it, too.

She looked down at her hands. "I, uh..."

He didn't give her a chance to finish. "You will take her to her cell with hands off."

"Affirmative, sir." The Stormtroopers stood on either side of Rey but didn't touch her. "Let's go, come on."

She took backward steps with the Stormtroopers, keeping her eyes on her captor. Her evil, hot captor, whose presence suddenly rattled her to her core. Not only was she having a hard time looking away, but she could tell he was too, only she had no idea why. All she knew was that Kylo Ren was looking at her in a way that made her feel seen for the first time in her life.

A few, long moments later, Rey finally tore her eyes away, exiting his chambers with an unsettled, yet excited, feeling in the pit of her stomach. As the doors closed behind her, she glanced back in confusion. She felt an immense pull to go back inside, to see him again—a thought she never expected, let alone wanted to have. She looked ahead, a frown on her face as she followed the Stormtroopers down the hall.

I have no idea what just happened...but whatever it is, I'm in trouble.