messy sketchbooks

blood stained thoughts

KYLO POV. 

TW: VIOLENCE

kylo was never one to share his personal life with anyone. not until you came along. he didn't mean to get sidetracked that late november night at the cherry plaza; but hux was late to a regular meeting about numbers. he sat at the back, trying to conceal himself from any prying eyes. he wasn't the most liked man in new york city; sure the limelight in fashion magazines aided to portray a stylish bachelor to the public. but allies and foes knew that his hands were anything but clean.

he'd been in snokes 'business' ever since his own family left him. wandering on the streets of new york, helpless, alone, he could sympathise with you. he knew what it felt like to be abused and abandoned. what it felt like to have to seek shelter in the comfort of a strangers arms. that's why he wanted you to leave that morning. he couldn't handle his emotions around you, not wanting you to witness his outburst of rage as his own memories flooded back into his brain. smashing the coffee cups as soon as he heard your heels walk down the hallway, punching walls either side of him as his hair became rugged and sweaty falling over his face. saliva coated over his pursed lips as glass cut into his palm, making the blood drip down his forearm in a stream of derangement. he didn't wince at his carelessness, he was numb to the pain by now. snoke made sure of that. 

snoke liked deadlines, and kylo was the one to make sure that they were delivered. which meant it was his fault when the payments were late. a week prior to your rain fiasco, kylo's last contact for the day was unreachable. cellphone became cut off, apartment cleared and contacts were silenced. something was wrong. maybe they took off with the supply? maybe they were dead? the gut wrenching part of his job was having to return to snoke with an emptiness; a vacant apology to the mess that was his fault. 

lessons were taught; kylo's closest allies, his 'bodyguards', drivers and personnel were the ones to show him his consequence. the circle of life. kylo supplied them with the skills, but that also made him their punching bag. there was no point in fighting them back, no lesson would have been learnt. he liked feeling the contact of their ringed fingers against his face, the kicks to his ribcages, the sweat running down his temple. those were the feelings that drove him. to do better. become something better. it also reminded him of his early years in the business; a core memory flooded back to his frontal lobe. one of his colleagues, decided to leave and take what wasn't his with him. snoke couldn't have disloyalty, so he was sent out. he could still remember the sound of them gasping and hoping for air as the blade slid across his throat, the blood that trickled down kylo's fingers and stained onto the bedsheets. the frozen irises that were glazed over holding the moons reflection of kylo within them. that was his first kill. driven by power and loyalty. 

so when you entered his life, it was hard to keep out your mind rummaging skills. constant questions, subtle hints to try and catch him out and expose his personal life to you. you were a tough woman to sway away from casual conversations and in depth personality quizzes.

at the same time as your neediness, he also felt regret. if his eyes didn't lock onto yours for the first time, if he didn't mouth fuck you in the back office of the fashion house. you'd be safe. sure it was mere coincidence that he was your first assignment; but he couldn't help but feel guilty for dragging you under into this secrecy of immorality and duality. if he had just left that day in the office, found another tailor, cooked another woman dinner, you would be safe. countless conundrums were bouncing around in his head in the middle of each night; but they all came to the same conclusion. he was hungry for you, ravenous even. he knew it was wrong to pull you into his life, but he was selfish, and enjoyed the game.