Cut To The Feeling (Reader x Professor Ren / Kylo Ren)

Muffulettas and Disappointment

When your eyes fluttered open to the morning sun, you looked to your right.

Kylo was gone. You turned to your bedside table, picking up your phone. 10:35. You had a missed text sent at 6:03 AM. You opened it. 

Kylo : Had to get going early this morning. Text me when you get up. You sleep like a rock. 

You rolled your eyes at the message, the last thing in the world you wanted to do was talk to him. Your eyes were swollen from crying while you slept, and the anger that boiled your skin was just now subsiding. Every logical part of you knew that it was stupid--you had told yourself a million times that you and him were just friends. But when you had him there, laying in your bed, and he received a text from that woman...it hurt. A lot. 

You grabbed your phone, clicking on the web browser. You didn't need to do what you were about to do--you knew it would hurt your feelings, but you couldn't help yourself. You clicked on the search bar and typed in her name. 

Francesca Calrissian

A million results popped up immediately. Thousands of articles about her feats in filmmaking, Vogue editorials about her French chateau summer home, spotlights on her generous donations to public school systems' arts programs. And so, so, so many beautiful, model-esque photos. She was perfect in every sense of the word. With her deep olive skin and her long shiny waves of black hair, she was a goddess. A lithe and toned body with legs that went on for days made her every man's dream. Her hollow, high cheekbones and voluptuous lips along with her black as night, big round eyes made you want to apologize for ever having been around Kylo in the first place--for convoluting his ideals of what women should look like. She was immaculate--something you would never be. 

And she missed him. It could have been friendly. It wasn't like your interactions with Kylo weren't always teetering the line of romantic. But with how beautiful he and she both were, there was no way they weren't fucking. 

You saw a website amongst the search results that had documentation of all of her past flings. You clicked on it as soon as you saw it. 

From 2010 - 2012 she dated Skeet Ulrich. Random. From 2012 - 2014 she dated Alex Turner. That made sense. From 2014 - 2015 she dated Cara Delevingne. They made the hottest couple ever. And then finally on the list, from 2016 - 2020 she dated Kylo Ren. 

It made your heart sink even lower than it had been before. The thought of hearing him say Franny made you want to throw up. You locked the phone, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. She was his hot, cool, rich, and famous ex, and every fiber of your being was terrified of her coming here. Especially with that stupid fucking text message. 

You didn't want to see him. At all. But you wanted to pry. You wanted to know why he had never mentioned her. And you especially wanted to know what happened when he was in New York. 

"Hello?" His voice was an apparent bundle of nerves as he picked up your call.

"Thought I would call rather than text. This a bad time?" You asked, trying your best to mask your contempt. 

"I have a minute. Took you long enough to wake up."

"I was tired. I was up late helping you do your job and all," you rolled your eyes. 

"Thanks for that. It was really helpful," he said, letting a long breath out. 

"What are you doing now?"

"Getting these drafts finalized and sent out to everyone so they'll be ready for Francesca," he responded, clearly busy with something on the other end of the phone.