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No Light, No Light >> Kylo Ren X Reader

Title: No Light, No Light

Paring: Kylo Ren X Reader

Warnings: Kylo Ren is kinda a dick sometimes. You're a pure cinamonn roll

Spoilers: yes.

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Slowly the day breaks. Your knuckles are already raw and your breath shaky. No, you cannot be. You have to be tough. You're to be the pillar for the great Kylo Ren, his attendant that he daren't harm. It had started as just a job, but now, you're in deep. You're too deep, and you can't help but hate it. You're in love with a killer. A sith.

He's yet to wake, and you're in the training room Hux's officer Phasma frequents. An attendant of a Knight of Ren must have fighting skill, but now, you're beating and breaking and berating yourself for what your stupid heart has done without consulting the head.

It's so easy to say it to a crowd. You might just shout it to the stormtroopers, before you faced Kylo Ren with your immature, inappropriate feelings. He would turn on that sabre of his, the buzzing of the bright red blade would frighten you - and you would be no more. You might just shout it to the galaxies, to the outer-rim, to the Resistance, to the whole universe. If you had made such a mistake, let them all know.

"You're going to break your hands, _______." the familiar voice of Phasma's modulated voice in her shiny mask interrupted your rant. "Stop. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

                 

With a final blow to the model, you turn to your colleague and superior. Your entire being aches, from your toes to your soul, and it may be okay just to hurt everywhere. Isn't that what Kylo Ren does in battle? Hurt himself to become more powerful.

"I'm stupid."

She takes her mask off. "You're not stupid. You're one of the most bravest people I know." Her plain face shows concern, shows something you haven't seen for a while. Care. "Tell me everything."

Daybreak empties its yolk over the world, over the Finalizer. It's distant, and cold, yet its bright enough to perpetrate the being of Kylo Ren. His eyes flutter, mind dredging its way through the layers of consciousness, mouth dry from his nightmares. Kylo Ren might instil fear into the galaxy, might kill and ruin lives and break dreams, but he is a man, and a man dreams of his failures.

"Father," he whispers.

Usually, by now, his attendant would have sensed his consciousness, and aid him to begin the day. ______  was force sensitive, but not enough to become a warrior like himself, or his uncle. No. She was a maid forced to be near him for all her days. What an existence.

Standing, Kylo Ren feels his joints pop into place, his vision blink away sleep from his face, muss his hair with a hand to rid any trace of his sleep. General Hux never slept, and when he did, it was never enough to turn the thin general into a more amicable man. With a dark chuckle, the Knight of Ren wondered if anything could make that redheaded moody man into a more amicable man.

"_______?" he called. By now she would have him dressed into his tunic, cleaned his sabre, broke his bread for him. But the assistant was nowhere to be seen. Wherever could she be?

Was she in danger?

For a moment, Kylo Ren felt a tug inside his chest; much like when he battled the scavenger in the snow. The Force. In it, he usually felt emotions and thoughts, tugging them and assessing, them, tossing aside what wasn't useful or exciting. But now, he feels an ache, deep in his hands and his chest, like he's being dragged across a frozen wasteland like Hoth, bare as birth, both inside and out.