Cruel Destiny | Kylo Ren

StarKiller

Time flowed like dry cement. It had been exactly five days since Kylo Ren had left to go to the StarKiller base, and at first I had basked in the relaxation that came with his absence–but only two days later, was when the pain struck.

On day two, without the constant fear for my life taking over my conscience, all my other worries were able to come full-front and centre in my mind. I was left a fretting mess of concerning thoughts, that looped around in my mind until there was no room for anything else, knotting themselves tighter with every new scenario that my mind would pluck from thin air.

It is as if I cannot live with the knowing that life goes on; that time continues even in the places where I am not.

My fingernails were now short, painfully short. I had nibbled them down in nerves to which the top of each was a pronounced pink ridge and some skin was torn with flecks of red. Just at the mere thought of Three, Two and One back home: I had caused this damage. I wondered if they struggle with my absence as much as I do their's?

I can picture them now—I presume that it's nearing lunch time over here on the Finalizer Base and when I had first arrived, I had sacrificed two hours. It's also a Friday, so most likely the boys are in physical training and Three must be having her sewing hour.

I smile to nobody but my own memory.

Sewing hour was our favourite. Though, I wasn't very good at it, always leaving with pricks in my fingers and a poor excuse of a sewn button; because we always spent that hour chattering our hearts away rather than paying attention to our craft.

But now, Three doesn't have a sewing partner and I don't have anyone to talk to, only bare walls of chaotic, onslaught, white.

On the third day the pain began to subdue and the boredom took it's place.

I've been cooped up in Kylo's quarters for too long—only leaving in the hours past midnight to get my one meal of the day in attempts to avoid anyone–and there are only so many games I can invent on these tiles.

I long to get out. Out of not just these quarters, but Finalizer as a whole.

Back home, it's fall now. The leaves will be scarlets, golds and browns and I can almost hear the crunch of them all beneath my boots; but when I look out the high-rise window, I don't see hazel skies of tall trees, only those brilliant pearls that sit as if cushioned upon the pure-black velvet of beyond.

I had anticipated time alone without Kylo Ren and his heavy words and gaze with such relish. But now I longed for some company for now I am lonesome and cold, for I have never been alone for this long. The only time I ever was left by myself before coming to Finalizer was the sparse moments I got to sleep or dress–and now, I could almost wish that he was here with his lightsaber beneath my chin warming me up; almost.

My chest feels tight at the realism, but I muffle it down. I don't want to particularly be with him. I just need to be around simply anyone.

I checked the clock. Only a minute had passed since I had last checked an hour ago, or so it seemed. Sitting here with nothing to stare at but the galaxy that I have now memorised by stars, is excruciatingly dull and there was no telling when Kylo Ren would return to taunt me once again.

Though, he is not here, there is still a fraction of him that remains, a fullness of soul and breath that is thankfulness at his mercy. But at the same time, the darkness of his soul looms in every corner... and the fear still lingers within my sore bones.

I think back to him promising me some time and that brings me enough spark to ignite hope. I recall his acceptance to show me a glimpse of the force within, which brings excitement... but the possibility of spending one-on-one time with him, also brings a reality of hesitation, no matter how much I have yearned to learn of the power surging through me.