In Your Arms

Licking Your Wounds

CW: alcohol usage

You had absolutely no concept of time as you sat behind the wheel of your car for the first time since taking your new job. You weren't sure if Kylo would want the once gifted Audi back or not, and you certainly didn't want to give him another reason to think of you with discontent, so you opted to leave it behind.

Flipping down the visor of your old reliable - the keys dropped into your lap and you thanked a higher power for your foresight. The small wound on your head was pulsating and you winced as you prodded it with an inspecting digit.

It wouldn't need stitches, and you knew that head lacerations had a tendency to bleed more than an injury to another part of the body. You found solace in the logical half of your brain, leaning into your schooling for assurance when everything else felt so uncertain.

Even thinking about the amber eyed monster made you throat burn with sorrow. You hadn't known him long enough for his outburst to come as any sort of shock - only it felt truly personal.

What had he called you? Filthy fucking whore. Right.

You had gathered your belongings in a haze of confusion from the stoop of the estate and the bags sat in your back seat - clothes erupting from the open zippered compartments. It's not like you had time to pack them away neatly.

You wanted desperately to call Rey. To hear her mollifying voice as she coaxed you back to a state of sanity. You could almost hear her voice in your head. Forget about him. Be with me, here. I've got you. You didn't fight as the tears fell from your tired eyes.

It didn't make sense for you to be feeling this way. Kylo Ren was essentially nothing to you. He wanted you. He said he wanted you. The rejection. He said you could trust him. The betrayal. He held you while you cried. He changed your clothes and tucked you in. He took care of you. The... whiplash.

It felt like the two of you shared something in common. Something neither of you had said aloud, but that was there nonetheless. Constantly in play, even when you didn't realize it. On top of that, he had been so tender with you. So kind to you without even really knowing you.

Your rational brain incessantly reminded you of the fact that it wasn't the first time he had hit you, but you were quick to come to his defense. Punishment isn't abuse.

Was what he did hours ago abuse?

Did it even matter?

The sobs came forcefully and you glanced at the bags in the backseat. You remembered the fact that you had wound up in possession of one of Kylo's shirts and you climbed out of your seat.

Nestled on the mothball infested bench in the back of the car, you laid down on your side, Kylo Ren's shirt hugged tightly to your chest.

Where do you go from here? The idea of continuing your life as if none of this had ever happened seemed unobtainable and so unbearably painful you chased the thought away as soon as it emerged.

You finally allowed your heavy eyelids to fall, and you fell asleep on the side of the road, in your car. A puddle of coagulated blood staining the seat forever beneath your resting head.

-

-

For the first time in your life, you skipped classes. You needed the familiarity of your own four walls, and you definitely needed the light bruising to fade from your face. Also, licking your wounds was a practice best done in private.

To your dismay, Kylo hadn't reached out as you had expected him to. Not even a simple apology. Nor had Vicrul. It was like you dreamt the whole thing up. Cut from his magnificent life like a festering cancer.