These Violent Delights

Chapter 11: Guilt

WARNING: Sexual assault (groping) by two Stormtroopers.

—

There was no more pain, no more sorrow.

It was always like this here, in the happy place you had constructed in your mind. A content sigh slipped through your lips as you floated in the vast, serene lake. Wildflowers rustled in the wind on either side of you as birds chirped their pretty songs, taking flight into the deep, brilliant blue sky. You closed your eyes and smiled, dragging your fingers through the water that cradled your body. Nothing in the universe could ruin this moment.

"Pet."

A low, familiar voice shattered your bliss. Your eyes flew open, terror seizing your heart.

No. Please no.

You heard it again, but this time, he was calling you by your real name. It was so far away and distorted that it came to you like a broken hologram, unnerving enough to pull you closer to consciousness. You fiercely resisted the pull; you didn't want to leave. It was calm and peaceful and pretty, and you wanted to watch the birds fly and hear the wind howl in the trees. You wanted to rest. But then those four little words floated in the air, caressing you like an unwanted kiss, and your safe place was ripped out from under you.

"Submit to me, Kitten."

"No!" you yelled, shooting up in bed. Besides the sound of your thumping heart, you were met with deafening silence. Too afraid to move, you started by dropping your gaze down to whatever the hell you were sitting on.

What in the actual fuck?

You frowned. You had never been here before; you had never even felt a comforter as soft as this. Nor had you been on a bed this damn huge in your entire life. For a split second, you thought you were dead, and you had somehow managed to elude the eternity you had been expecting to live in Hell.

But then you lifted your head, and your heart dropped. This wasn't some form of the afterlife; you were onboard the First Order's headquarters, which was basically just as bad as Hell. The immaculate cleanliness of the room told you that, since the Resistance didn't have anything even remotely as sophisticated as this stuff, as did the view of an entire fleet of dreadnoughts from the window across from you. Well, it wasn't a window, really, it was an entire wall of glass, showcasing the millions of stars in the galaxy, and the massive, green planet the ship was stationed above.

Aside from the First Order vessels, the view was beautiful. Yet you also found it off-putting. You shouldn't be in such a nice, comfortable room. You couldn't remember everything that had happened up to this point, but you knew that you were Kylo Ren's prisoner, and he needed something from you that you kept denying him...

Your brows pulled together. Yeah. Why the fuck am I still alive? Or even allowed outside of my cell?

You cautiously scanned the room. To your right was a wall of ancient texts and a closed door. To the left was another door on one end and a simple, sleek desk near the observation wall. Next to that was a weird-looking shrine with something charred sitting in the center. You got on your knees and squinted to get a better look at it, but you couldn't make out what it was. All you could see was that it sat in a pile of a black, powdery substance.

What the—

"I trust you slept well, pet," you heard a deep, unmodified voice speak from somewhere in the room.

You whipped your head toward the sound, falling back on your ass when you realized Kylo didn't have his helmet on. Unless he could materialize into thin air, you concluded he came from the door on the right. You eyed him as he hovered by the wall of ancient books. He was dressed in all black—no surprise there—with his back to you. All you could see was his textured, wavy hair that was so dark, it matched his stupid cape. You leaned forward, hoping to somehow see his face.

He turned his head slightly, but not enough for you to get a glimpse of him. "Well?"

"No," is all you said, but truth be told—you didn't even remember what he had asked you. You were too focused on trying to see if he did look like Jabba the Hutt.

The Supreme Leader clicked his tongue. "The drool you left on my pillow says otherwise, Kitten."

"You're welcome." You narrowed your eyes at the back of his big head. "And I'm not a kitten. Don't call me that."

"How else will I aggravate you?" he mused, so quietly it sounded as though he was speaking to himself, not you.

"Just by breathing," you shot back, glaring at him as he casually lifted his arm to grab something on the shelf. "So you can call me by my real name."

Kylo pivoted to the side again, still not showing his face, and started to pull his gloves on. He made a small tsking sound. "That's not who you are anymore."

"Just because I'm your prisoner doesn't mean anything has changed," you spat, your pulse drumming with anger. You said your name, "is still who I am, who I will always be."

"Don't you know? Everything has changed," Kylo said, voice still low and contemplative. There was a brief pause as he picked up his helmet and placed it over his head. After you heard his breathing apparatus click into place, he turned toward you. "You're mine now," he said, repeating your name mockingly. "My little pet."

You scowled at him. "You're sick, fucked in the head."

"Why, thank you," he drawled, taking lazy steps toward the bed. "How did you sleep?"

You looked away, crossing your arms over your chest. You had so many questions—why were you here, why were you alive—but you couldn't fathom looking at that fucking mask for a second longer.

He sounded amused. "Any dreams?"

A sour taste formed in your mouth. He was taunting you by making small talk, by teasing you with a taste of normalcy. But monsters didn't make small talk. They just made people hurt. "Kriff. Off."

"Hm," Kylo hummed, stopping at the foot of the bed. "That's no way to speak to the person you slept with last night."

You tried to control your reaction but failed miserably. And when you finally looked at that stupid, lifeless mask, you felt panic rise to the surface. Your memory was still fuzzy; the last thing you remembered was collapsing in General Hux's office, then being dragged through the ship by Stormtroopers and walking into a dark, defunct kitchen, and then...somehow, you ended up here.

"We..." you started, swallowing. Hugging yourself tighter, you let out a shaky whisper. "What happened?"

"You gave me what I wanted."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Which was...what, exactly?"

"You granted me access to the deepest, darkest part of your psyche."

"Oh, yeah, that," you mumbled, darting your eyes to the floor, then tentatively back at his mask. You felt sick, while on the other hand, Kylo's posture was completely at ease—as always. "So, um, are you going to tell me what you dug out from my brain?"

"I could." Kylo placed his hands behind his back. "But it's better if I don't."

"Uh, why?"

"You aren't ready for that."

"Why not?"

"It will distress you."

You gave him an odd look. "Why does that matter to you?"

"It doesn't," he said in that monotone, modified voice. "But it should matter to you. What you endured is not designed for anybody to remember, let alone survive. Remembering will only compromise your mental state."

"Too late for that," you mumbled, your lip pulling down. "So, if it wasn't designed for my survival, why did I survive?" When Kylo didn't say anything, you gave him an annoyed look. "Hello?"

If you could see his face, you'd assume a taunting smirk was playing across his lips. "Hi."

Your hands curled into fists, and your heart slammed in your chest. "Fuck your hi—tell me what you did to me in that room, and tell me why I am here in your bed."

"I already told you. You let me into the depths of your psyche."

"And nothing else? You didn't touch me?"

"I did touch you." The Supreme Leader paused. "But not in the way you're thinking."

You grit your teeth. "Then in what way?"

He gestured toward the bed. "I carried you here."

You let out an agitated huff. "Okay, fine. You didn't touch me in there, but what happened after you carried me to your quarters?"

"I let you sleep."

"And after that?"

Kylo cocked his head to the side. "You woke up."

"Okay, but between falling asleep and waking up, what happened? Did we, did I..." You didn't even want to finish that sentence. You stared at him expectantly.

"Did you drool on my pillow?" Kylo paused in silence before nodding. "Yes, yes, you did."

You threw up your hands in exasperation. "For star's sake, what did you mean by we slept together? Does that mean we fucked?"

"No. It means we slept together."

"So...as in, we just slept next to each other?"

"Yes."

You scrunched your nose up. "Ew. Why did you sleep next to me?"

Kylo outstretched his hands in a sweeping motion. "It's my bed."

"Right. But why make me sleep in it with you?"

"Aw, I'm sorry," he baited, leaving the end of the bed to approach you on the side. "Do you prefer being restrained in a prison cell?"

You pursed your lips, thinking about it for a moment. The bed did feel amazing, but it wasn't worth it if you had to sleep next to a mass murderer. It just didn't feel right, and you didn't like the idea of being unconscious and at his will. As he stopped to tower over you, you scooted across the comforter to get away from him. "Depends," you mused, peering up at him as you pulled your shirt down over your knees. "How do I know that nothing happened in here? That you didn't touch me?"

The Supreme Leader sounded offended. "You're sorely mistaken if you think I would ever touch a Resistance rat like you."

You shook your head, insistent. "But how do I know for sure?"

Kylo repositioned, his posture tensing. "You don't. You just have to trust me."

You jolted, your mouth opened in incredulity, and just stared at the big, funny man in the mask. And then, as the silence stretched on, you realized he was being serious. Something strong, something delirious boiled up from your gut—laughter.

"Trust," you panted between cackles, "you?" You threw your head back, letting yourself enjoy the genuinely amusing sentiment. "Oh my gods, you're a fucking wacko if you think I would ever trust you."

"You think too highly of yourself, Kitten." His heavy footsteps crossed the floor—away from you, thankfully. "And too lowly of me."

You rolled over on your side, clutching your stomach as you rode out your fit of laughter. You tried to stop, but when you glanced at Kylo standing still, his mask locked on your face, another wave of laughter hit you. "Who knew," you breathed, giving him a toothy grin, "that you had such a keen sense of humor?"

"That's enough."

You gave him the most serious face you could muster. "Aye, aye, captain."

The Supreme Leader rolled his shoulders, flexing his fists by his sides. Yep, definitely pissed off. You beamed at him.

Kylo outstretched his hand. "Come, pet."

You bit your lip, trying really hard to keep it together. "Where we going?"

"After you eat, we are going to the prisoner's wing to clean you up."

You stilled. "Like, a shower?"

"Yes."

You gestured around the room. "Um...don't you have a shower here?"

"I do."

"Then...?"

"No." He gave a curt shake of his head. "You need constant supervision."

"Uh, I don't know what weird shit you do with your other prisoners, but I am perfectly capable of washing myself," you said, inching to the side of his bed. Setting your feet on the ground, you whispered, "Pervert."

"I heard that."

You gave him a sweet smile. "Good."

No response. Kylo didn't even move. He just stood by the door that led out of his room, keeping his mask pinned on your face. You bit your tongue. You wanted to say something else to annoy him, sing a song, perhaps, but you didn't want to push your luck any more than you already had. You settled with rolling your eyes, standing up and walking over to him. "Let's get this over with. Shower only, though. I'm not hungry."

Kylo didn't respond as he guided you through the rest of his quarters. You glanced around, gawking at how nice it was before he led you down a long, empty corridor that ended at a turbolift. Both of you—two sworn enemies—stood beside each other in complete silence, which somehow made the cheery elevator music almost as comical as it was out of place on a dreadnought capable of obliterating entire civilizations.

Your lip tugged down into a frown. I don't think things could get weirder than this.

As the doors opened into a busy part of the ship, Kylo stepped in front of you, waving a hand over your face. "You will follow me with obedience."

Duh. "I will follow you with obedience."

The Supreme Leader tore out of the turbolift, and you followed—obediently. You kept your eyes locked on his back while your feet swiftly carried you behind him, per his demand, but you were a prisoner in your own mind. Thanks to his Force-coercion, you couldn't escape even if you tried, though, internally, you were obsessing about how to escape. But unfortunately for you, the ability to physically look around eluded you. All you could see was his wide ass in front of you, and all you could hear was the noisy chatter of First Order fucks doing whatever First Order fucks did, accompanied by the endless respects they paid Jabba as he stalked through the corridors.

They paid you no mind, much to your approval. You hadn't showered or even looked in a mirror in what, two weeks? Maybe longer? It was best if people didn't spend too much time looking in your direction, so when you arrived at the prisoner's facilities, you could have jumped with joy.

"Oh, thank the stars," you cried, standing before two long rows of showers on either side of the room. Even though there was no privacy glass between stalls, and you were pretty sure the mirror on one wall was a two-way mirror, it was still the nicest communal washroom you'd ever seen. It was clean, well-lit, and with multiple soap dispensers per shower, and at this point, you didn't even care if you had to be supervised.

"Clean up nicely, M421," Kylo's amused voice called out from behind you. "You have a very important meeting with the General after this."

You threw him a nasty look over your shoulder. "Great, can you leave now?"

The Supreme Leader didn't respond, nor did he move to leave—not until you made an annoyed shoo gesture with your hands. Finally, he turned around and walked through the door, and you let out a deep breath, enjoying the first speck of control you've had since you were taken.

"Hallelujah," you muttered, turning toward the first shower on your left. In one seamless tug, you pulled your shirt over your head, stripping down to the nude. You turned the water on and waited for it to get hot, frowning when you realized that it didn't get hot.

Oh well, you thought as you inched under the cool stream. A cold shower is better than no shower.

You had just gotten your hair wet when you heard the whoosh of the doors opening. Minding your own business, you opened one eye to see two Stormtroopers sauntering through the door with their weapons raised. You figured this was what the Supreme Leader had meant by needing supervision, so you ignored them to focus on washing the grime off your body. They settled nearby but not close enough to alarm or stop you from enjoying your shower. The frigid water was terribly uncomfortable, but watching the dirt swirl down the drain gave you a deep sense of satisfaction. You waited until it ran clear to start actually washing yourself, using a combination of all the soaps available to lather on your skin.

Next, you tried really hard to work through the mats in your hair, but you'd need a brush, conditioner, and, quite frankly, a miracle to remedy that problem. So you moved on, humming as you shifted to face the mirror across from you. Your heart dropped when you saw the full view of your body. You looked way worse than you imagined. The bags under your eyes mimicked bruises, your once-glowing skin was dull and weathered, and your hair was way worse than it felt. The tune you were humming died in your throat. You looked like a true prisoner of war; you looked like shit.

Yeah, no. I don't need that type of negativity in my life. You spun back around to focus on more pleasant things, such as trying to make your hair stick up straight with globs of soap. You almost had it, but a soft thud from somewhere beside you broke your concentration, and your hair flopped over, hitting you in the eye.

"Ow," you whined, dipping below the stream to get the suds off your face. You didn't bother looking in the direction where you heard the noise—you knew it was one of the Stormtroopers, and you decided you didn't want that type of negativity in your life, either.

But then he called you your favorite nickname. "Hey, look over here, Resistance slut."

You rolled your eyes and glanced at him. He was standing two stalls down, his blaster pointed at the bar of soap on the ground. "Pick this up."

You snorted, returning your attention to your hair. "Yeah, no. Fuck off."

From your peripherals, you saw the Stormtrooper walk toward you. "I said—" he jeered, blaster raised.

"Pick it up, M421," the second Stormtrooper finished, who came out of nowhere, closing in on you from the other side.

You tensed at their proximity, but you didn't react. You knew that's what they wanted, so you proceeded to wash the soap out of your hair. But that backfired when one of them hit you in the back of the head. Kriffing hard. So hard that the impact sent you stumbling forward. After your palms caught your fall against the wall, you stood there for a moment. Your first instinct was to kill them, steal their weapons and armor, then proceed to board the nearest shuttle and kiss this place fucking adieu. But you knew that would be impossible with your pervert captor lingering somewhere around the showers, so that was a no-go. Of course, you could fight back and kill them just for fun, but seeing as how you were already living on borrowed time, you didn't want to piss the Supreme Leader off any more than you already had by making an unnecessary mess.

"Are you dumb, stupid bitch? I said, pick it up!"

Exercising all of your self-control, you glanced at them with a taunting smile. "And I said, fuck off."

They attacked. You yelled and tried to slip between them, but you lost your footing on the wet floor, allowing them to grab your arms and secure you against the wall. They turned off the shower and pressed against you.

You thrashed in their grasp. "Let go of me, you fucking—"

A gloved hand covered your mouth while another sloppily grabbed at your breasts. You tried to bite the hand over your mouth, but he was holding it so tightly you couldn't sink your teeth in. You started violently pushing against them as one of their hands slid down your stomach, but then, their hands flew off your body. Literally.

It all happened so fast. One moment, they had you pinned, and the next, they were writhing and screaming on the floor. You didn't realize why or how they were thrown off you, but then you saw the Supreme Leader stride through the doors.With his boots assaulting the floor, robes whipping behind him, and the lights reflecting off the metal of his mask—evenyou had to take a step back. You could sense he was furious, and as he stretched out his hand, flicking his wrist, a sickening crack emanated from their helmets.

Your heart jumped to your throat when you realized the Supreme Leader just snapped their necks without even touching them. You remained frozen against the wall, too afraid to move, but when he pointed his mask toward you, words started gushing out of your mouth. "I, I didn't do anything, I swear! I didn't even instigate it, I was just showering, and they, they attacked me, I promise!"

You swallowed, waiting for him to say something as you prayed silently in your head. And please don't snap my neck, you big, scary caped man. Thank you very much.

After a few agonizing moments of silence passed, Kylo stepped over the dead bodies, making his way to the end of the room. Standing in front of a row of floor-length cabinets, he made a claw with his hand and ripped the door off its hinges with a snap. You wanted to ask him what the hell was going on, but you were afraid that if you spoke up, you'd end up stuffed inside one of those lockers. But when he made his way back to you, all he did was hold out a towel for you to take.

You just stared at him for a moment, like an idiot, before rushing to cover your breasts the best you could with one hand. Then you grabbed the towel from him, and he turned his mask away from your body. You raised a brow as you started to dry off. Jabba's pretending to be chivalrous, I see.

Once your body was dry, you tried to make your hair less of a wet, ratty mess, but it was a moot point. You waited patiently as you clutched the towel against you, unsure of what to do next, until he extended your shirt and new undergarments in your direction. You took them, hastily slipping them on and wrapping your hair in the towel. Not wanting to end up like the poor, dead bastards on the floor, you stood there in silence after you were done.

Kylo turned his head toward you, just an inch. "Finished?"

You nodded, and he rotated to face you, his hand hovering over your face. "You will follow me with obedience."

Understanding flooded your mind, like what he said was the only truth in the galaxy. "I will follow you with obedience."

The return journey to his quarters was spent in a haze. You kept your eyes fixated on his back as you had before, and while a part of you knew that you were under Force-compulsion, you welcomed the quiet, pleasant numbness it offered after that shower from Hell. But the moment you became aware of your surroundings, the comfortable daze dissipated when you found yourself sitting on the floor at the foot of Kylo's bed. You blinked, focusing on the back of his helmet as he sat at his desk, facing the view of the galaxy.

You frowned. "Why am I here?" He didn't respond, and you let out an agitated huff. "Hello?"

He turned his mask to the side, his back to you. "Do you prefer your cell?"

"Would you be in there with me?"

"No."

"Then yes," you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

He shook his head and looked forward again. "So stubborn."

You snorted. "Not wanting to spend time with my enemy doesn't make me stubborn. It makes me smart."

"You're in quite the mood," Kylo uttered, leaning forward to place his elbows on his desk. "Has your appetite returned?"

"No, and neither has my will to live. So get over here and put me out of my misery." When he didn't reply, you added, "Pretty please?"

"No."

You groaned. "What are you even doing over there?"

"Meditating."

"But why?"

"Because I want to."

"But I thought I had a big, important meeting with the General."

"You do."

"Uhhhh, then why the fuck am I here, sitting at the foot of your bed like a dog?"

"You refused to sit on my bed," Kylo mused, and you could hear the lick of amusement in his tone as he said, "and not like a dog, more like a kitten."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I hate you."

"I'm devastated."

You fought the urge to stand up and strangle this man. "Tell me, dear Supreme Leader, when am I attending this meeting with the General?"

Kylo rolled his shoulders. "Next week, when I return from my assignment."

"Next week?" you whined, "you said it was today."

"You're eager..." he started, slightly moving his head to the side again, "to see the General of the First Order army?"

"Mhm," you hummed, "I want to talk to him now that I can actually think straight. He didn't get the full dose of my bitchiness—you know, the whole experience that is me—and I need to fix that."

"Ah," is all he said as he directed his gaze forward. "You will have to wait. I moved it to next week."

"But why?"

"Because I said so."

"Oh, for star's sake." You rolled your eyes. "Come on, Jabba, when are you going to tell me why I'm here? And why I'm even alive?"

Even from where you sat, you could see his shoulders tense. "You will call me by name or my title. Nothing else."

"Fine, but only if you do the same. I'm tired of throwing up in my mouth every time you call me Kitten." Again, no acknowledgment, so you pounded on the floor with a closed fist. "Hellllooooo, I asked you a question. Why are you keeping me alive?"

When the silence droned on, you attempted to antagonize him to get his attention. You unwrapped the towel around your head and sent it soaring across the room. You sighed over and over and over again. You started humming and singing and thumping your legs on the floor but still—not an ounce of recognition from him. No matter how much noise you made, Kylo remained unfazed. It infuriated you.

"You know I would kill you the second I got a chance, right?" you flared, glaring at the back of his head. "I would slit your throat and throw a party afterwards."

Finally, Kylo made a small hum of acknowledgment through his mask.

"So why are you keeping me here in your quarters while you're doing this?" you said, throwing up your hands. "I mean, really, I could grab a kitchen knife and shove it through your shoulder blades while you're busy meditating."

"You're welcome to try."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, big guy."

Silence. His body was so still, you weren't sure he even heard you. Groaning, you crossed your arms, flinging your head back against the mattress. It was clear he was keeping you in his room just to torture you with silence.

Fantastic.

The minutes ticked by while you continued to sulk, your hatred mounting with every passing second in his presence. Once you tired of singing and trying to annoy the ever-living shit out of him, you thought it would be a good idea to attempt to get the mats out of your hair. To say that was an unsuccessful pursuit would be a massive understatement.

After a few minutes, you had to stop; it was too tangled to be managed. Every pull and tug in the endeavor to unknot it hurt like a bitch, irritating your scalp and snarling the strands further. So, you gave up and decided to accept your fate as the Supreme Leader's pet, mangled hair and all. You stretched out on the floor—not unlike a cat—and started humming to yourself again.

Four thousand years later, a thread of hope shot through you when Kylo stood up and disappeared through the door on the right. You lithely got to your feet, keeping your eyes on the door as you took backward steps—but he emerged before you got very far.

"Damn." You dejectedly dropped to the floor to sit again. "I thought I got lucky, and you were sucked into the void of space or some shit like that."

Kylo didn't say anything as he walked right toward you. You stiffened and dropped your eyes to his hands—he was holding a bottle of something and a black, slender comb. You craned your neck up when he stopped right in front of you. "Lost, Jabba?"

"Turn around."

You frowned. "Ummm, no?"

The Supreme Leader squatted in front of you, and you scooted back as you eyed him. He raised a hand and pointed at the end of the bed, his gloves growing taut over his fingers. "Face that way."

You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, tilting your head at him. "What happens if I don't?"

"Then I can't brush your hair."

"Excuse me, what?" you said, jolting back. If you weren't so confused, you'd laugh. "I can brush my own hair, you know."

Kylo cracked his neck, agitation rolling off him as though he were exercising all of his self-control not to snap your neck. "I'm aware."

"Then..." you trailed off, giving him the best then what the fuck? gesture with your hands.

Kylo trained his mask down at his hands and set the bottle of detangler on the floor. He twisted the comb in his fingertips and tapped the end, highlighting how sharp the tool was.

You scoffed. "I wouldn't actually attack you while you're meditating. Despite what you think, I'm not that dumb."

"It's not me I'm worried about."

Your forehead creased. You didn't understand. He continued to watch you, and eventually, slowly, you got what he meant. He's worried I'll use it on myself. "Yeah, no—I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of killing myself, Jabba."

"It's Supreme Leader, to you." Kylo repositioned his weight. "And you wanted to die this past week. I felt it."

You looked at him like he was crazy. "Uh, yeah, I was being tortured. And I was exhausted. I wasn't thinking straight." You paused, then locked your eyes on the visor of his helmet, desperately wishing you could see through it. "Why would it matter to you if I killed myself? Why in the galaxy are you keeping me alive?"

Even with the vocoder, you could sense the mockery in his tone. "You heard Hux. He has big plans for you."

"Okay, yeah, sure, but I don't get why that means I have to stay in here with you, and why you feel the need to brush my hair." You raised a brow, a slow, taunting smile finding your face. "Sorry to break your heart, but I'm not playing dolly with you."

"It's either this or we shave it off."

The amusement on your face dried up. You visualized yourself with a bald head and shuddered—it would not look good. Letting out a small sigh of defeat, you turned around to face the end of the bed. "I hate you."

Kylo shuffled behind you. "Closer."

You bit the inside of your cheek. You didn't want to give him what he wanted, but you didn't want a bald head, either. So, pouting the whole time, you inched back until you felt his knees digging into your back. You tensed the moment his hands touched your head, remaining perfectly still as he grabbed a small clump of your hair. However, you relaxed just a bit when he began brushing it out from the tips up. Oddly, it did not hurt, almost like he knew what he was doing.

You frowned. Okay, I lied. Things could, and did, get weirder.

Behind you, Kylo adjusted his position on the floor, closing the space between you. When his hands left your head, you started to turn around to face him—you didn't want any surprises, not when he was this close to you.

"Stay facing forward."

You hesitantly obeyed; you didn't trust the Supreme Leader with that sharp tool in his hand. Suddenly, a low hiss filled the air, and something clattered to the ground, landing with a loud thump. Your eyes got wide. Did he just...?

"Your hair is a mess. I need better visibility."

You froze, his deep, sensual voice taking you by surprise again. It sent shivers crawling up your spine, and as he continued to brush your hair, you spiraled, thinking about what his face looked like. You knew all about the man before Kylo Ren, but General Organa had never shown you a holophoto, even though she talked about him often, sharing stories about his childhood and how much she loved him. Your shoulders dropped. Thinking about who he used to be made your heart feel heavy.

Leia had said he was always a passionate boy who loved to talk, his enthusiasm oftentimes lighting up a room. He was tenderhearted, too—she told you how as a child, he showed great empathy for the orphans on Coruscant, just like you. That vision of him had stuck with you: the sensitive, kind little boy who grew into a cold-blooded killer. Then there was the one night Leia had grabbed your hand and so seriously said, I count down the days it is time for you to meet the man behind the mask again. At the time, you had just brushed it off and smiled—you figured she had too much to drink and didn't realize what she was saying. Never in a million lightyears did you believe that you would actually meet the Supreme Leader, especially as he brushed your hair in his bedroom.

Like his little pet.

You shuddered. You were a pet, the prisoner of the man that used to be Ben Solo. The man that used to read books with his father late at night, snuggled into the crook of his arm as his eyelids grew heavy in the warmth of his star-shaped bed. The same father that he would grow up to kill. You blinked, angry at yourself for the sadness that seeped into your bones. That little boy is dead. He's a monster now, and he's going to hurt you.

The snap of a bottle opening and the flowery scent of the detangler filled the air. Gloveless now, Kylo grasped your hair, rubbed the conditioner in, and brought his fingers to your scalp. You tensed, afraid of his next move, but then he started massaging you and you were thrown into unexpectant bliss. You suppressed a moan and leaned into his hands, closing your eyes to pretend it was someone else giving you a massage. Drox, maybe. Yes, Drox. That's it.

You imagined your lover was the one massaging your scalp, his hands sliding down and tenderly touching your neck, giving you chills and making your body melt against him. Your lips parted just a little, releasing the softest of sighs—you needed this. Even though you had been quite busy doing prisoner things following your arrival here, you couldn't help the sexual frustration that had been steadily building since you were taken.

You exhaled again, getting lost in his touch as you tilted your face downward, giving him better access to your neck. His fingertips expertly dug in deeper, focusing on your stressed pressure points before creeping down toward your shoulders, squeezing and kneading as he went. Even without your growing needs, sleeping in the interrogation chair, then your cold, hard cell...well, your body needed the rubdown, and yeah, you were that desperate for the massage, even if it was courtesy of a psychopath in a cape.

Kylo slid his hands back up the tightest part of your neck, and this time, you couldn't stop the moan from slipping through your lips. "Oh, fuck."

"There it is," Kylo muttered, clicking his tongue in approval. "Give in, Kitten."

Your eyes shot open, his infuriating name for you snapping you out of your trance, and you scrambled away from him. Spinning around, you immediately came face-to-face with the man behind the mask, and your lips parted in surprise. He was handsome and young, with a strong jaw and sensual lips sloping down into a slight frown. A jagged scar tore across his skin, a brutal contrast to his otherwise striking features, and as you gawked at him, his deep brown eyes bored into you with an intensity you could feel to your core.

You swallowed. Okay, so he's not Jabba's twin. Got it.

You shifted uncomfortably; you were not expecting the Supreme Leader to look like that. You thought he was older, ugly. His features twisted due to the negative influences of the dark side. You had no idea the man behind the mask was simply a man. A kriffing attractive man at that, one that you instantly felt connected with.

Desperate to deny that feeling, you spat out the first insult you could think of. "No wonder you wear a mask, Jabba."

Kylo's nostrils flared, his bottom lip trembling as he pushed himself off the ground and looked down at you from the tip of his nose. He was silent, but the weight of his gaze was powerful enough to make you flinch. This time, you had really pissed him off. More than that, you had insulted him, and you weren't able to breathe properly until he tore away from you to stride to his desk.

You shakily got on your feet, preparing for him to whip out a blaster to blow your head off your shoulders, but all Kylo grabbed from the drawer was a commlink. He kept his back to you as he spoke into it. "Gather my prisoner from my quarters. At once."

A voice immediately whined over the frequency. "Yes, sir!"

The Supreme Leader slammed the device down before rolling his shoulders and neck. You stayed quiet as you stood beside the bed; you didn't have the Force, but you were smart enough to know when to keep your big mouth shut. Well, sometimes.

Seconds later, the tap, tap, tap at the front made you jump. Without looking at you, Kylo left the bedroom and pounded to his front doors. You heard the clinking of armor, and you took timid steps out into the living area to greet your Stormtrooper friends.

"We have come for Prisoner M421, Supreme Leader."

Kylo stepped aside to let them in. "Take her."

"Yes, sir!" one Stormtrooper said, walking toward you. He gripped your arm and yanked you across the room.

"Hey, I can walk myself," you hissed, pushing him away. The Stormtrooper didn't like that, nor did the other one—they each grabbed one of your arms to drag you away. "Ow, stop, you're hurting me!"

"Let her go," the Supreme Leader demanded, and they dropped your arms immediately and backed away from you. "You will not touch her."

"Yes, sir."

Confused as all hell, you brought your arms across your chest, rubbing at the spots where they had dug their fingers into you. You chanced a look at your captor. He was looking right at you with those dark, serious eyes, and something crazy washed over you. Guilt.

"I'm..." you started, but you didn't know how to say what you wanted to say, and he didn't look like he wanted to hear you speak, anyways.

Before turning away, Kylo nodded toward the exit. "You will escort her to her cell."

"Yes, sir!"

As he walked past you, you pivoted to call out to him. "Wait, Jabba—I mean, Supreme Leader." He didn't stop.

"We're leaving, prisoner scum," one of the 'troopers said. "Come on, move your ass."

You took small steps forward, keeping your eyes on the Supreme Leader as he moved away from you. "Kylo."

This time, he paused in the doorway leading to his bedroom. His back stiffened, straightening before he turned to look at you, gaze unflinching and lips set into a hard line. You gulped at his intensity; so many times you had wished to stand face-to-face without the shield of his mask obscuring his eyes, but now you just wanted to escape his penetrating glare.

"I just wanted to say...thank you," you said slowly, your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth. "For stopping the Stormtroopers earlier."

He gave you one curt nod, his eyes searching your face. That was all he did, but the silence that followed was loud, powerful, and you felt a shift in the energy between you. The connection...it deepened, it strengthened, it consumed you as you peered at his face. You felt it, Kylo felt it, and seeing as how the Stormtrooper cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, the poor bastard probably felt it, too.

You looked down at your hands. "I, uh..."

The Supreme Leader didn't give you a chance to finish. "You will take her to her cell with hands off."

"Affirmative, sir." The Stormtroopers stood on either side of you but didn't touch you. "Let's go, come on."

You took backward steps with the Stormtroopers, keeping your eyes on your captor. Your evil, fucking hot captor, whose presence suddenly rattled you to your core. Not only were you having a hard time looking away, but you could tell he was too, only you had no idea why. All you knew was that Kylo Ren was looking at you in a way that made you feel seen for the first time in your life.

A few, long moments later, you finally tore your eyes away, exiting his chambers with an unsettled, yet excited, feeling in the pit of your stomach. As the doors closed behind you, you glanced back in confusion. You felt an immense pull to go back inside, to see him again—a thought you never expected, let alone wanted to have. You looked ahead, a frown on your face as you followed the Stormtroopers down the hall.

I have no idea what just happened...but whatever it is, it ain't good.