The Brighter Dark (Kylo Ren X Reader)

Ch. 4- Hope You Like Scones

If there was one thing you would take away from your experience working with the First Order thus far, it was the knowledge that they had no shortage of awkward silences to go around.

Only about ten minutes had passed since you had taken off in an ominous-looking black ship that you'd heard someone refer to as The Night Buzzard and already you were growing restless. You'd awakened long before the tall shadow of a pilot had come to collect you from your chambers, and you were aching to get some energy out.

You exhaled slowly, letting your breath fog up the visor of your helmet and cloud your view of the back of the pilot's seat. You had opted to keep it on; even though it was highly unlikely that the Supreme Leader would recognize you after all these years, you didn't want to take your chances. Unless you were eating or sleeping, the helmet stayed on.

Bored and looking for literally anything to entertain yourself with, you stood from the metal crate you had chosen as your perch and started to look around the common area of the ship. Let's see, you thought, I spy with my little eye...

To your right, you found a pair of metal doors that had been built into the interior of the ship. Figuring them to be hiding some sort of closet, you smirked and eagerly started fiddling with the keypad on one of the doors.

"Hey, what's the Supreme Leader's birthday?" you called in the direction of the cockpit.

At first you were met with silence, which made sense- the guy didn't really seem like much of a talker. But a few seconds later, you heard a bewildered "...What?"

You broke out into a grin. Finally, some conversation.

"I said, what's the Supreme Leader's birthday?"

"Yeah, I heard you. Just... a little confused as to why you're asking." He sounded tentative, which surprised you. You hadn't expected anyone who looked as menacing as he did to be the shy type.

You started to punch random buttons on the keypad, filling the air with various "beeps" and "boops." "I'm trying to get this door to open, figured he's the kind of guy who'd use his birthday as his passcode just so he doesn't forget it."

The pilot's head whipped around, visibly panicked even with his helmet covering his face. "Don't touch anything!" he yelled.

You raised up your hands in a vague defensive gesture. "Alright, sorry." You remained where you stood until the pilot repositioned his gaze onto the sky ahead. Cautiously, you crossed the threshold of the cockpit and quickly took a seat in the copilot's chair, eyes still trained on him. His head slowly turned to acknowledge you.

You both sat there expectantly, waiting for the other to speak, until the pilot finally let out a barely audible sigh and refocused on the windshield. Satisfied with his unspoken permission to remain in the cockpit, you nestled your rear into the seat and released a sigh of your own, relaxing your shoulders.

"So what are you, some kind of special-ops stormtrooper?" you ask, throwing your hands behind your head to use them as a cushion between your skull and the hard metal seat.

He kept his eyes forward. "I look like a stormtrooper to you?"

"No," you answered, "but I didn't have a better guess."

"I'm not a stormtrooper."

"Yeah, I gathered that." You continued to study him, taking in his ribbed tunic with its mud-stained hem, his iron gauntlets that were covered in little nicks and scratches, a sign that this man had seen battle up-close on more than one occasion. You looked closer at his helmet, which had blinders on either side, rendering his vision tunneled and focused. He had multiple holsters strapped onto his person, but not all of them were filled. He must not have anticipated needing a heavy artillery to play taxi to a bounty hunter for the day. You tried not to let that offend you.