messy sketchbooks

cold sheets and empty wine glasses

the pov's switch  a bit so i hope it isn't too confusing to keep up with !

TW: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA, VIOLENT DESCRIPTIONS, DRUG-INDUCED SEX, IMPLIED FORCEFUL SEX (DUBIOUS CONSENT)

your hands didn't part until you were guided to sit on the edge of his unmade messy silk sheets, your were fidgeting. still shaken from the small amount of words that made your whole mind run rapid with traumatic memories. your fingers were intertwining with each other, scraping off nail polish, picking at the sides, you didn't know how to act. was he about to fuck you until you couldn't remember why you were mad at him? or was he going to explain why? it was a few minutes before he came in with a cup of coffee, he could sense how tired you were.

"thank you for staying, letting me explain"

you grasped the mug with your sweaty hand, the immediate warmth caressed your palm and the smell of coffee grounds brought you back to reality. the liquid hitting your lips and running down the back of your throat calmed you. he calmed you. he was being gentle with his words, something you would never believe he would be.

"just- don't lie"

you croaked the small syllables out of your mouth, you didn't want to speak too much, scared that he would become afraid once more, shut you out, ask you to leave. but you had to be firm with him. you couldn't let him seduce you with whispers, small circular touches and the feeling of his hair tickling your neck. you needed complete honesty, you couldn't go through the pain of trusting strangers like your parents again.

"snoke, he- he basically raised me. taught me everything i know, helped me with the life i'm fortunate to live."

"but he - it's wrong kylo"

he turned to look at you, his eyebrows began to furrow, like you had just given him a mental math problem to fix or told him that the earth was flat.

"it's not. i owe him, he took me in when i was left out, he showed me how to get ahead in life. don't you see i owe him - i owe him my life, and i'd happily give it"

you were shocked by the amount of devotion he felt for someone that would abuse him, push him into this dangerous world where at any moment he could be gazing up at the sky, smelling the subway fumes and looking into your eyes... for the last time.

your hand reached for his, taking it into your fingers, you were shaking it under the weight of his.

"but- he's a bad man ky, he uses you, hurts you. he sells drugs for fuck sake, you are in so much danger that you can't see because he's blinded you with guilt"

"at least he cares for me."

the words stung to hear. you were still unsure with your feelings towards him and a big question mark filled your gut with how he felt about you. the way he fucked you always felt temporary, like it was the last time. but the intimate holds, dinners and meetings made his company feel normal; like you would both come home and vent about your day to each other while opening a bottle of red and ordering the nearest takeout. you wanted to tell him you cared about him too, but you didn't; something was stopping you deep inside.

"but - it's wrong. he only cares because you're giving him what he wants, your loyalty."

"so? i am loyal. and it's been rewarded. i don't see a problem"

"that's just it. you don't see a problem with selling drugs, hounding suppliers for profits and probably hurting them too"

you pointed to the black eye that was healing back to normal now; a yellow ring was left, encompassing his hazel iris in the middle of it as they glared at you in a state of anguish.