Compassion | Reylo

4

A/N If you celebrate Christmas I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. And here is the kiss scene I'm sure is anxiously awaited. 

Rey

When I awaken there is a hand laid gently on my abdomen, pressing tendrils of life force inside my body, and another arm curving around my back, lightly supporting my neck. There is a steady inhale and exhale of breath above me, and I know it is Ben. I know he came for me. On instinct I move my left hand to cover his, my thumb carressing the inside corner of his thumb. There are calluses on his fingers that are so familiar, they mirror my own. I barely noticed them when we first touched hands in the hut on Ahch-To. I notice them now.

I raise my head and am met with the tear filled eyes and stained cheeks of Ben Solo. Not Kylo Ren. Not a monster in a mask trying to live out the destiny of another Sith Lord long since turned back to the light. Ben Solo. Son of Han Solo and Leia Organa, Prince of Alderaan, nephew of Luke Skywalker, grandson of Padme Amidala and Anakin Skywalker. The Last Skywalker. Just a boy. My equal in the force. My balance. And he's looking at me like I am the only star in the entire galaxy worth looking at. With him, I am something. Together, we are everything.

I sit up fully and bring a hand up to his face. His lips are trembling, his big beautiful brown eyes, always so tortured before, leaking tears.

"Ben." I whisper, and the smile tumbles out of me. I thumb over the corner of his mouth, the sides of his face, a faint groove the only remnants of a scar I once left upon it, the tips of my fingers begging to get tangled in his ebony locks, somehow still soft even after being soaked by rain and sweat.

"Your parents are so proud of you." Ben's eyes fill with gratitude, and he relaxes to the sound of the words.

His eyes. His eyes hold all my questions, and all my answers, when he wore a mask by the name of Kylo Ren, they gave away that he was human. I blink down at his lips.

And then I surge foreward, taking his mouth in mine.

It is like that night in the hut over the fire, only ten-fold, every nerve in my body is attuned to the beating heart and moving lips of Ben Solo, he has always been a fire burning me up from the inside, breaking down every wall I put up. He reacts instantly, bringing his arms around my waist. I am already sitting on top of him, and find no problem deepening the kiss. There is tongue, there is teeth, and it's beautifully messy, because what else would it be, sitting in the root of all evil, bloodstained and worn out.

Even as he kisses back with the sureness of a true Solo, I can feel him slipping away. He gave too much, and I cannot lose him.

A dyad in the force, never been seen before, two meant to be one.

To be one.

Ben's long lashes flutter against my eyelids. I reach out to the force and I can feel the two strands tying us together, parallel forces. As my lips move, I tie us together. I take the two separate strands and knot them tightly, even as my hands search for grip in strands of Ben's hair. One life force connects us now, but we were always connected, tangled together by fate, by the force. Ben's hands grasp the thin fabric of my tunic, and he pulls me closer. I know he feels it too.

We will share one lifetime together, as it was destined to be, and neither of us will ever be alone again.