Dangerous Affection | Kylo Ren

𝐈𝐗 My Ruin

Dawn smothered the night seamlessly. The sky glimmers a daunting navy, crested by the orange, minute sun. Birds emerge from their nests, chirping benign song. Everything was still dark; even with the whir of traffic and the bustle of the city.

"You look like shit." Nora's words rung bluntly, her pale, crystalline eyes flickering over your frame, nose sniveling. She doesn't comment on the brutal marks branding your throat, or the long scratch burrowing through your face. She only chuckles when you grumble snark back at her.

You flash her a piercing look of contempt. Her laughter fades to a lingering, nervous sniffle. Eyebrows furrowing in concern. "But seriously... are you sure everything's okay?" She asks, inhaling a steady heap of smoke through her slender, short cigarette.

The smoke billows through the crisp morning air, a tinge of mildew and forenoon chill surfacing around New York's polluted atmosphere.

The blare of sirens ricocheted off of the view from Nora's nimble little balcony— the scalloped wall of stone of the neighboring complex, the grimy brick close enough to touch.

Although you were prohibited from shedding any knowledge you have obtained over the course of the Kylo Ren assignment with her, there was something oddly liberating about confiding in her about your "boy" problems. She can't know he's a certified murderer, but she can know you fucked him.

To her awareness, you're a successful, corporate business woman. Every time she inquired you about work, you spoonfed her complete and utter bullshit, and she ate it up incredulously.

Lying to your best friend is painful. But you forfeited the chance of having a normal friendship when you chose a life of vengeance; nobody has ever been able to know you, to see you in your rawest, authentic form. You were never given the chance to be a good person; you were designed to live a lie, to reject honesty, with yourself and others.

Though lying to her ached, deeply, as you yearned to confide without restraint and speak without fear of the words echoing back to harm you, it ultimately kept her safe. Ignorance is not only bliss, but safety.

"It's just been a rough couple weeks," you decide to say after a bloated pause, musing the words dully through a somber smile.

"I get it. Truly, I do." Nora chirps in agreement, nodding, surveying your deliberately blank expression. "My moms sick again. And Victoria dumped me for an ugly political science major. Gag."

"No fucking way." You gasp sincerely, dabbing the bud of your cigarette out on the porcelain ashtray balancing on the balcony wall. "You were out of her league, anyway, babe. I always thought she had buck teeth."

Nora guffaws, laughing boisterously. "Oh, god, she did," her fingers ghost her lips in mock horror, eyes wide and joyfully tearful. "You're always right about them. Like JJ from walgreens? He gave me herpes! You tried to tell me he had an STD."

You chuckle, cradling your stomach, as the harsh, genuine laugh clambers through your body. "This is the first time i've ever hated being right."

From the interior of her apartment, that was accessible through the ajar balcony doors, your phone dings obnoxiously.

"One sec." You scramble to respond, nearly knocking your head on a macrame pot-holder on your way inside.

You've been expecting a check-in with Poe ever since you disappeared against his orders last night. A part of you is curious to see if Jasek had spilled information about what had unfolded; or if he remembers anything at all.

You scoop your phone off of the corduroy ottoman situated in the corner of Nora's bohemian living room.

Your eyebrows knit together in bewilderment, when your eyes rake over a message from an unknown number illuminating your lock screen.