Pothos and the Neikea

12. There is no escaping each other

There it was. Rey's first assignment as Kylo's student. It was delivered two days before the actual deadline, and was one of the very few he had gotten yet. Apparently, according to sophomores, the best time to turn in your essays is 50 seconds before the deadline. Seriously. Not that Kylo could be too mad about that; he was never the one to do otherwise. But knowing that Rey was not like that, knowing that she was responsible and studious, it made him smile. It made him fill with unreasonable pride and, between you and me, a little hard, too.

He paced around his desk, eyeing at his laptop. And then he cursed himself for telling his students that they could do this digitally. He wanted to see her handwriting. He wanted to smell the scent of her hands off of the paper, he wanted to-

Fuck.

What. The. Fuck.

He slammed the laptop shut, grabbed a coat and rushed out of his apartment. Started running. His hands found his hair, and he pulled at it.

Shit.

What the fuck was he doing? What on Earth was he thinking? How much creepier could this get? He was talking about a student of his, God dammit. Rey was a student. She had done the work she was supposed to, very professionally, and he was over there getting off of it. Had it been anyone else- had it been some other girl he would have realised how sick that was. God, he hoped no other professor was a freak like him. It almost made him vomit-

He did. He turned to the side of the road and emptied his stomach. And at the smell of it, he did it again. Because he was disgusting. How could he think about Rey that way? Or better yet, why could he not stop? The realisation of how bad what was happening was, made him barf, and all it did was plant even worse images in his brain.

This was so wrong, how every time he saw her in class, his heart skipped a beat.

He wished he could take her on that small chair she was sitting.

It was absolutely disturbing, how he was the one grading her papers, and all it did was make him excited about how good of a student she was.

He wished she would suck him under his desk.

He threw up again. Well, more like spit out whatever was left. Because it wasn't a lot. But it still didn't seem to end. His torture. Everytime he had the painful realisation of everything that was wrong with him and his little crush on Rey, his imagination ran wilder, bringing forth disturbingly enjoyable ideas.

He held his head tightly between his palms, and he struggled not to start hollering in the middle of the night, by the side of an empty street.

He walked back to his house with trembling limbs. This had gotten too far. He needed to stop this. He needed to stop thinking about Rey. Stoping thinking about their night together. Stop having fantasies about it happening again. Stop calling out her name everytime he came. He needed to forget the way her lips felt on his, forget the way she moaned under him.

Dammit, he did it again!

He arrived and got inside his house again. His laptop was still on his desk, waiting, almost calling him to see Rey's assignment. But instead, he took a shower. He thought it would clean him of everything that was distasteful about him. But he just found himself chasing his release under the water, with none other than Rey in his mind.