Into the Grey

Chapter Two: Stowaway Pt. 2

Chapter Two: Stowaway Pt Two

Elara bit her lower lip and tried to fight her way out from under Ren's grip.

Just a touch, she told herself, as though it were so simple to keep the grip on herself and keep things tight to the chest with someone thumbing through everything she was trying not to think of. It was true what they said how his strength; the strength of the force in him and how it was like nothing else, how it took could take you over in at the bat of an eye; as if it were no more effort to him than simply drawing breath. And with every passing second he dug himself deeper and deeper into her mind like a virus; some foreign being tearing holes right through and weaving around whatever it needed with far reaching tentacles. Every second he dug himself deeper, and every second she felt her grip on things starting to slip away.

"Your parents...they were are part of The Rebellion." He cooed at her side, easily pressing past the walls she attempted to throw in between him and what he wanted to know. "You father was a pilot...you never met him but your mother...she told you all about him...every story, every praise...how much he would have loved you...how proud you would have been able to make him had he survived.

She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing back the swell of emotion. So swiftly once again he had picked out the first and weakest spot he could find to break her down. Elara didn't know why she was surprised, weakness was weakness and she above anyone else knew that it was to be exploited. That dull ache, that constant emptiness in her chest she could never ward off for long. Weakness was weakness, and while she wouldn't expect anything less of him, it didn't mean it didn't catch her off guard.

"Irrelevant." Elara choked out her best attempt at rebuttal. "You're wasting your time."

"No." Ren dismissed her deflection. "I don't think so."

"Think anything you'd like...it doesn't make it true."

"What if I feel it? What then?" His demeanor softened slightly. Fingertips ghosting lightly against her skin, drawing a sharp flinch at the point of her wound. "I feel it in you...I feel the pain that's left behind...How you try so hard to hide it, to shut it out, that sadness that's been settled inside of you for so long...You can lie to yourself you you can't lie to me." Strange consolation passed his lips. "Don't be ashamed...it's alright."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?"

"No."

"You don't lay awake at night thinking of everything you never had? Or wonder how everything could have been so very different. How happy you could be if only..."

"Stop." She spat, shifting in the chair as much as she could craning in the chair as much as she could to avert her gaze.

"You reminded her of him...every day." He continued, tone cold and flat once more. "Every time, you spoke...every time you looked at her."

"Shut up."

"Every time you smiled you remind your mother."

"Stop."

Elara flexed her hands against her restraints in silent protest, shaking in her effort to shut him out; shut everything of him out. His proverbial fingers grazing through her mind, the eerily calm and hypnotic sound of his voice and the way his breath grazed against her neck from underneath his mask. This is what he wanted, she tried to remind herself, this is what he wanted. It wasn't just the way he could so easily pull everything he wanted from her thoughts, it was the inclusive experience of the entire ordeal. Breaking her down, the fear, the pain, the anger. He got off on it. It was some sick game that was only going to get worse and worse the longer it went on. This is what he wanted, to whittle her down to nothing and hadn't the will to fight back at all. Every rise of emotion and every empty denial from her lips, she was playing right into his hands and she knew it but she was powerless to stop it no matter how hard she pressed back.