Affixed |Kylo Ren x Reader|

~Better Days~

The hilt of the saber vibrates in your palm as you slash it straight through the gut of a training droid. It prompts you to wrap both hands around the metal base, allowing you to put all of your remaining strength into your swings. Sweat drips from your brow, catching in your hairline and your lashes. It drops to the floor from the tip of your nose and seeps into your shirt as it travels down your throat.

Had it not been for the gloves providing you extra grip, your saber would have already slipped from your sweat-soaked palms. Heat emitting from the core of your weapon bleeds through the thick metal and the leather of your gloves. With every slight movement, your muscles twitch and groan in protest as they strain beneath your skin.

Truthfully, you had no idea how long you had been keeping up this grueling regime. Several hours must have gone by at the very least. Your chest already felt so incredibly tight from having pushed yourself for so long. And yet, no matter how exhausted you were, you couldn't find it in you to stop. There was something bubbling inside of you. A strange sensation that you just wanted to claw out. You didn't have a clue as to what it was, but it was so clearly tearing you apart.

The glowing white blade of your saber had long become a blur in front of you. It was as though it was moving by its own accord at this point. Droid after droid becomes a victim of your bottled fury. Each high-class piece of machinery becoming nothing more than a molten pile of sparks on the ground. You had become reckless; each droid now programmed to its most difficult setting. They were merciless with their strikes, but you had something those lifeless metal shells could only dream of.

Emotions.

They were raging through your entire body, creating a fuel for you to fire off of. Without them, you figured you might as well have been as soulless as the droids. It was a miracle your teeth hadn't all split from having grit them so much. Your jaw had practically grown glued shut from how hard it was clenched. Everything must have hurt by now, but you didn't feel a thing. You were numb.

It was no wonder Kylo preferred this method of controlling his anger. If you could even call it that. The events of yesterday had proven enough to you about his ability to stay calm for long periods of time. You must have been a fool for believing he possessed the capabilities to change. Every muscle in your body tenses at the thought of it, pushing you even harder.

The droids push forward in droves; their programming determined to catch you off guard for even a second. You don't give them a chance to. Their shiny black and silver bodies melt and collapse beneath the blade of your powerful weapon. Electrified staffs slide past your skin. Some you manage to just barely avoid. The droids are not as lucky.

Your body had become a mindless puppet; controlled by the cruel fingers of an invisible master. As you pivot your feet, your saber flips around in your grasp. The blade slices clean through a droid's neck, sending its fizzling metal head bouncing away. You whirl around, fueled by your own fire, and swing your saber downwards with all of your might.

Only to be met by the annealed phrik blade of a vibro-scythe.

Your head snaps up as you freeze in place, blade of light still grinding against the cold metal. As you recognize who exactly had interrupted your violent therapy session, you step back and deactivate your saber. Your chest and shoulders heave, gleaming with sweat as you glare up at the intruder.

"Look at you," Vicrul whistles as he removes his mask, carelessly tossing aside to get lost among the other hunks of scrap metal. "Working hard, I see."

"Do you take pleasure in interrupting, is that it?" You scoff breathlessly, turning on your heel in annoyance.

Now that your little moment is over, you are suddenly hyper-aware of your entire body. Every limb felt heavy and every step equally as sluggish. It felt as though someone was crushing your chest with a two tonne weight. Your heart was practically in your throat, which stung and ached as though it was strained. In your state of exhaustion, you stumble over your own feet, anticipating the pain of the floor to greet you.