A Desire for More (Kylo Ren x Reader)

Chapter Eight: He's Not the Best at Comforting

You woke up later that night completely drenched in sweat, having been woken from your nightmare by your own screams. You curled your legs up towards your chest, ignoring the pain in-between them, and rested your head on your knees, trying to calm your breathing.

All at once, everything that had happened to you since you left home hit you; leaving your family and finding out they don't even remember you, murdering a man you didn't even know, and sleeping with the Commander. Oh my gods, sleeping with the Commander.

You began sobbing uncontrollably, entirely overwhelmed by every emotion you felt. Sadness, regret, fear, disgust... All the emotions you held back during the day, every mistake you made came over you as you cried.

You couldn't believe that your family, the only people you've ever loved, no longer knew who you were and couldn't return the love you had for them. You couldn't believe that you let yourself kill a man, someone who was trying to help others, someone you didn't even know, someone who begged at your feet for his life.

And finally, you couldn't believe that you let the, well, activities, from earlier that night actually happen. The disgust you felt for yourself was overwhelming; how could you have let a man who was supposed to be your teacher do that? No, not even let him do that, but pretty much begged him too. A wave of shame came over you and you felt worthless, like you were a child and what happened was a punishment for a temper tantrum. And what was worse, that's exactly what it was.

How could you have thought that sleeping with the man who had ruined your life would help you forget? How the hell were you supposed to just move on? Forget your family? Give in to the darkness and despair? Pretend that sleeping with him the night before never happened?

By the time your sobs had stopped and you felt completely drained, it was a nearly 0500. You stuffed all of your feelings to the best of your ability into the back of your mind and stiffly climbed out of bed to get dressed.

Though you shouldn't have been surprised, you stared in shock at your reflection in the mirror. Your neck, chest, and hips were covered in bruises and the shape of teeth was embedded in your shoulder. You quickly pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt, trying to ignore your overwhelming embarrassment and shame.

Moments later, the service droid arrived and, as usual, left a tray of food on your desk. You ignored it and decided that mushy food would only make you feel worse, if possible.

You left your room silently, tying your hair back as you walked. When you arrived in the training room, you expected to see weapons all over the ground and drops of blood, but the room was just as clean as it usually was. You walked towards the wall, examining the rows of weapons, seeing that everything was in place, but now angled in hopes of preventing another accident.

After realizing that someone must have cleaned up and having nothing else to do, you sat on the cool stone floor with your hands resting on your knees. Your fingers subconsciously picked at your cuticles, a habit your body picked up on its own in hopes of releasing stress.

You sat in silence with your eyes shut, trying to ignore all of the thoughts trying to escape from the back of your mind and just simply forget and let go. No matter how hard you tried to push them away, images of your family filled your mind and your happiest memories with them took over all other emotions; it was as if you were experiencing them all over again. You could see your brother's smiling face, hear your mother's laugh, and feel your father's warm embrace.

You shuddered at the realistic memories, but they slipped away from you and your mind became dark, taking you to an intangible place, filling you with intense fear. Images of the pilot's face swam before you, his pleading eyes just as vibrant as they had been that day, as if you could reach out and touch him. You saw yourself whispering something to him and watched as you killed him, like it was someone else, as if you were watching from someone else's body.