Not What You Wanted • Ben Solo | Kylo Ren

Worth It

Blurry spots of light passed in Rey's peripherals from outside the cab. The city lights were bright, but the liquid matter in her eyes made everything more dull - not only her sight but also her current life events. Under a streetlight, the silhouettes of a walking hand-in-hand couple were visible. The shorter shadow leaned on the taller one, head resting on his arm with an arm wrapped around it as well. Rey kept her gaze locked on the two until the cab had completely passed them, leaving them in their own world of affection again.

Rey sighed and turned to face the front of the cab again, throwing her head back on the headrest a little more aggressive than necessary. Because oh, what she'd give right now to substitute those strangers for her and Ben.

There was finally someone who felt so right for her but of course nothing could ever go just right enough for things to work out in the end.

She tried. Rey actually gave him the chance to speak and explain himself. The ball was thrown into his court and yet he still did nothing with it. Rey wanted to clear the air so fucking bad, but perhaps he didn't feel the same. If he really did, he would've talked. She couldn't believe anything else.

It was all she could think about watching the Chicago night through her fuzzed vision.

Why didn't he say anything?

Why didn't he fucking say anything?

Rey wanted with all her heart for it to work between them but he was making it ridiculously difficult. Maybe it was time to accept that he wasn't the one and he would never be.

After ten minutes of pure agony in the back seat of a cab, when Rey stepped out of the cab that was parked in front of her complex she immediately winced at the soreness in her feet. She had tried to walk it off at first but twenty minutes into the journey home, she gave in and called for a taxi with the small amount of money in her purse.

Rey felt stupid to cry. The amount of times she wept over Ben was absurd, so her body was severely tense as she made her way to her apartment to refrain from the tears spilling. Because of her rigid form, she slammed the door a little harder than necessary — no, it was definitely necessary — and went straight to her room, kicking off her heels and dropping her purse on the floor along the way.

Not caring that she was still in the now slightly uncomfortable dress, she let herself fall backwards  recklessly onto the bed so she was staring at the ceiling, calves and feet hanging off the bed so her toes barely touched the cold floor.

She let out a shaky huff and for the hundredth time, reminisced over the events of the last couple hours.

The dark beige ceiling above her slowly blurred and she only saw images of Ben — and her. She went through and found every sign of affection he'd ever shown, trying to piece together what she truly meant to him – if anything at all.

A flash of him standing at her makeup area backstage when he first called her beautiful. Another image of him in the driver's seat as he steered with a tight hand on the wheel after the bar incident. And the one she couldn't forget no matter how hard she tried to – the look on his face right before their lips met on the pier. How he looked at her like she was the only person to ever exist, the only person he'd ever held and yet still not really knowing her at the same time.

And see that's the thing... how could she feel the same about him? How can one feel so fond of someone yet not even know their intentions?

Even now, after he hurt her... she would do so much for him. Give up so much for anything... more than she should want to. She may not ever show it and demand explanation prior but deep in her soul, Rey would give him almost anything she could.