These Violent Delights

Chapter 15: To Persist, Not Perish

WARNING:  Consensual but very angsty sexual content. Tread lightly.

—

By the time you heard Kylo's front doors open—and those unmistakable heavy footsteps—you felt lightheaded with anticipation.

"Sir!" the Stormtrooper said, snapping to attention when the Supreme Leader made his way into the bedroom.

He kept his mask on you but barked a demand at your babysitter. "Leave us."

"Yes, sir!"

Hoping it wasn't noticeable that you were trying very hard to be your usual, obnoxious self, you flung a sloppy wave at your departing friend. "Bye fucko! I'll miss you!"

The Stormtrooper didn't respond—something you found to be very rude—but you waited until he exited to look at your captor. You did your best to keep it casual. "Hello there, Supreme Leader. Whatcha been up to today? Torture any helpless animals? Kill a small child? Set a senior medbay on fire?"

You pivoted your body to the side and lowered your voice, pretending to answer for him. "Sure did, Kitten."

You gasped and moved back to your original position, throwing a hand to your chest. "Wow, say it ain't so. All three of those things in one day? Seven hells, Jabba, you're a busy man."

Silence. Then he took one step toward the bed. "I see your walls are up again."

You flashed him a smile. "Higher than the sky, baby."

"Ah," he mused, clasping his hands behind his back. "So the progress we made in your dreamscape is null and void now?"

You smacked your lips. "Mhm."

"Tell me why."

You gave him an odd look. "Umm...you feeling okay? Or did you forget last night when you flung me into a tree?"

He shifted with impatience. "You stumbled into a place you had no right entering."

"How am I supposed to know that?" you shot back. "I tried to wake up when you asked me to, but I couldn't. It's not that easy."

"You shouldn't have sought me out, you—" Kylo started but abruptly stopped, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck with a clipped exhale. "You caught me at a bad time." There was a significant pause before he added, "I regret being volatile with you."

You jolted back. Never in a million eons did you expect this man to say that. You slowly nodded your head. "Okay, then." When the silence stretched uncomfortably long, you brought your feet up, crossing them beneath you. "So, why am I here?"

"You're a smart girl, M421. You don't always act like it, but you are," he said, taking another step toward you. "Which means you know you aren't getting out of here."

As he approached, you tried to stay cocksure. You tried not to show him that what he had said impacted you. But as the harsh truth rang in your ears, you felt yourself deflate at the reality of your situation. Your gaze and shoulders dropped, as did your voice. "Yes, I know."

He was quiet before getting even closer to you, speaking in a hushed, urgent voice. "Then let go. Of the past, of this act you have going on, of these walls you insist on keeping up. Let it all go."

"I...I can't," you whispered, eyes locked on the lower half of his body. "I don't know how."

"They have moved on, Kitten. It's time you do the same."

While what he had said cut deep, it also gave you a sliver of hope. "Does this mean they're still alive?" you asked, peeking up at him. "You didn't find and kill everybody the night I was taken?"

"It doesn't matter if they're dead or alive," came his quick, cold response. "The result is still the same. Nobody is coming for you."

You kept your gaze on his mask, taking in the brutal lifelessness of it as you swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn't know what to think. All you knew was that he was right. Nobody was coming for you. And as the heaviness in the air threatened to crush you, you wrapped your arms around your torso and lowered your eyes to the floor.

"Look at me." When you didn't respond or move, he repeated himself, this time, a harsh demand. "Look at me."

You reluctantly looked at his mask again. After a moment of silence, he brought his hands to either side of it and pulled it off. You swallowed—you didn't imagine ever getting used to the intensity of the way he looked at you—and eyed him as he placed his helmet on the bed.

He kept his gaze lowered, sprawling his gloved hand over the top of the helmet. "Do you see this, Kitten?"

You waited for him to look at you or to expand, but he didn't. "You mean, your helmet?"

Kylo nodded thoughtfully, and you tentatively did the same. "Yes, I see it."

"Do you know what it means?"

"Um...no?"

After he straightened his spine, he finally set his sights on you. "It's a sign of trust."

You considered the authenticity in his face, then dropped your eyes back to his helmet. "I...I don't get it."

"To feel free to take my mask off in front of you is an expression of trust," he explained patiently. "Something I hope can be reciprocated."

Your jaw dropped, not in a show of annoyance, but because you really couldn't believe what he was saying. "You...you want me to trust you."

"Yes."

You just stared at him. You didn't know what was worse. The fact he was being genuine, or that this conversation couldn't have come at a worse time, seeing as how he was talking about trusting you while you were waiting to stab him with a piece of his own mirror. You chose your next words very, very carefully. You couldn't lie; you were a horrible liar—plus he would probably be able to sense it—and you had to muster up enough respect to not laugh in his face.

"I don't know how, or why, you would expect that of me, Supreme Leader."

Anger flitted across his features. "You trusted me in your dreamscape. When you cried to me, when you kissed me. What changed?"

Your eyes drifted away from him for a second before giving him a blank stare. "Are you...are you being serious?"

"Yes."

"Right, okay. So um, first of all, I am your prisoner," you said, picking at your sack of a shirt for emphasis, "and those dreams we shared...we might have both been conscious, but they still didn't even feel real. And seeing as how you despise me and the Resistance—and I hate you and the First Order—I don't get what you want from me." You peered up at his face, truly confused. "We are enemies, Supreme Leader. Trust is not built in our design."

In a flare of agitation, he shifted his stance above you. "I have spared your life. That alone should have earned your trust."

"You spared my life from the danger you put me in. That doesn't mean shit."

Kylo's nostrils flared, his hands balled into fists by his sides. "I'm giving you an opportunity here. I advise you to take it."

"What opportunity? What are you even talking about?" you asked, leaning forward and making a what the fuck gesture with your hands. "It's been a week since I've seen you in person, then you have me shipped to your quarters to have a weird-ass conversation about trust? Of all things? What are you even getting at?"

"I am giving you an opportunity to make something of yourself. To stop running, to stop fighting," he said, tone severe. "To serve the First Order, to serve me."

This time, you couldn't hold back your laughter. "Serve you as in, to be your slave? To stay in your quarters all day as your little pet?"

Kylo had the audacity to look insulted. "No, not as my slave."

"Okay, then..." you started slowly, "if I agreed to serve the Order, does that mean I'd be free to leave?" He did not hesitate to shake his head no, and you threw up your hands in response. "Then I'd be held against my will, still. That's what a prisoner is—what a slave is, Jabba."

Rage flashed in his eyes. "Stop calling me that."

You didn't cower at his sudden intensity. "Stop acting surprised that I'm not jumping at the opportunity to be your slave."

He spoke through gritted teeth. "I told you, that's not what this is."