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Worthless >> Kylo Ren X Reader

Title: Worthless

Paring: Kylo Ren X Reader

Warnings: self depreciation, fluff, angst. 

Spoilers: yea, for Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

Author's Note: I wrote this with the Reader being short. I'm 5'2 (160 cm), and find a lot of fics make it seem like people are tall? Or at least, that height is a wibbly-wobbly number that doesn't make sense in fan-fiction. So. Bear in mind that Kylo Ren (or really, Adam Driver) is 6"2 (189 cm) tall, and that's pretty tall (for me, a short-ass). Anyways. Enjoy this height-centred fic!

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To describe the relationship between the Commander, and you, would be almost too hard to put a label to. More than anything, it was a work relationship; symbiotic. You were present to bring out the best of him, and he was there to do his job. Benefits for both yourself, as a translator, and him, the student of Supreme Leader Snoke. You had always been a cheerful person, despite your inadequacies in other areas in life; whilst most people had their worries about status, or perhaps their careers, your shortcomings were exactly that. Short. It had been quite hard to work with such a tall man, at first.

I

The first time you had met one another, you had been in General Hux's board meeting room, waiting for become the acquaintance of one another. The redhead who oversaw your pay check had assured you of your safety, and the importance of the work to the First Order. If anything, his words were only assuring himself, as you were fine with the predicament you had gotten yourself into.

Being a human translator, you were almost obsolete since to uprising of droids and technology that removed the requirements of a third party. But languages were a part of you, of your people; you came from a small moon orbiting Yavin, where there were six native languages. You loved words, and people's voices. Joining the First Order was about job security, and having a stable environment. Your new job, however, was a glorified babysitting position. But still. Being Kylo Ren's companion could stabilise a lot of treaties with wavering parties in the galaxy, who saw the black-clad man as a threat.

"General," Kylo Ren's modulator spoke. Your eyes lit up at once; even though technology had rendered you outmoded, the way it worked made you intrigued. "I thought I was here to meet the person you have forced upon me."

General Hux nodded. "Indeed, you are, Ren." He gestures a gloved hand to you, where you stand. "Unless you can't see out of that trash compactor of a helmet, you have no reason to have not acknowledged your equal, Ms. ________ _________."

It's then you realise that he can see out of the 'trash compactor of a helmet', but hadn't looked down. The general is as tall, if not slightly shorter than the commander, and the tip-top of your head comes to his shoulders.

"Good day, Commander Ren." You hold your hand out for him to shake, as is the custom, holding your hand high as to not make him reach down too far out of his way to complete the action. Slowly, you see his hand recede from its place by the sabre on his side, and take your hand in his gloved one. "It is a pleasure to be working with you, sir."

As his hand leaves yours, you feel a sensation in your mind, almost like fingers carding through paper files in a manual filing cabinet, searching, seeking. You had heard of the Force Sensitive's tricks, and stared back at him with a smile when he seemed to be fruitless in his searches.