Kindred Spirit | KYLO REN

11. Answers

I proceeded to my quarters, showered, and sat on my bed to wallow in anxiety. Phasma commed shortly after and stoically informed me that as a permanent member of the intel team, I was officially outside of her purview. Therefore, my reports would now be directed to the base commander.

Three hours passed, and I wondered how my heart was still thumping so madly in my chest. The lights in my room began to dim for the night cycle, officially entering "later" territory. My fingers trembled as I tried to focus on finishing my report. It was pointless.

I was slowly coming to the realization that I had been swept into the chaotic vortex that surrounded Kylo Ren.

And I was loving it.

My stomach did cartwheels in my abdomen as I stood in front of his door. I smoothed my fresh uniform and tucked my short hair behind my ears. Utilizing my training from the Fleet, I intentionally schooled my facial expression into an unreadable mask. It would be a miracle if it actually stayed that way.

I waved my hand to activate the door signal, regretting it instantly.

The door opened after a few breaths. He wore his helmet and his regular clothing, minus the long cloak. Without it, his frame was still impossibly broad. I had forgotten that he was much taller than me without my bulky Stormtrooper boots. He motioned inside.

"Come in."

His quarters were much like those on the command shuttle. There were multiple nicely furnished rooms, beginning with a sitting room. The lights were low as he hadn't yet turned on supplemental lighting. He motioned to one of the couches.

"Have a seat."

"Thank you."

I perched myself on the edge of the sofa with my hands cupped over one knee. He sat on a couch across from me with nothing but empty carpet between us. My chest rose and fell as I forced my ragged breaths in and out my nose. He leaned forward with one hand on his knee.

"All week, I sensed your curiosity," Ren said softly. "Ask your questions."

I reached inside my tired mind, realizing I had focused so much on my appearance that I had forgotten to think of what to say. My heart rate accelerated.

"Um...who are you?"

A sound of laughter and static answered me.

"Sorry," I breathed nervously.

"Try to narrow it down," he said, sounding amused.

"Um...were you a conscript?"

"No. I came to the First Order to learn from Snoke."

"When?"

"Five years ago."

I paused, taking in the information.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Where were you born?"

When he didn't respond, I bit the inside of my lip, realizing I had overstepped. After a moment, he released a dry laugh.

"You don't care where I was born," he said matter-of-factly.

He was right. At that moment, I cared about one thing and one thing only. I parted my lips, trying to put it into words, but my mind went foggy. My eyes fell to my hands, clasped together knuckle-white. His voice became soft and inquisitive.

"You're trembling, Lucia. Why?"

I let out a short breath. "I'm...so nervous."

He tilted his head. "Why?"