thirty-four; shock

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The black veil starts to lift itself from your mind. One by one your thoughts start rolling throughout your head as you regain consciousness.

You remember the fight you had with Kylo. You remember him putting you to sleep.

The anger that courses through you is instantaneous. You can feel your blood boiling even before you find the energy to open your eyes. How dare he?

How dare he?

You feel the adrenaline pumping alongside your blood cells, coursing through your veins into every limb, every part of your body; filling you with energy.

The first thing you see when you open your eyes is Kylo, sitting on a very uncomfortable-looking armchair, asleep, his hands folded across his chest and his head lolled back onto the back of the armchair.

He at least had the decency to plop me down on a bed, you think. You're on his bed in his sleeping chambers, the room and the whole ship seems to be holding its breath, anticipating what's to come.

How naive of him to fall asleep.

You sit up- slower than you would have liked. Parts of your body are still numb from when Kylo took your consciousness; your legs are tingling as they regain feeling.

But your mind is well awake.

You extend your arm and, with hate flowing through you, you Force- choke Kylo. He instantly wakes up, gasping for air, as you lift him a few feet in the air, his feet kicking.

"Who do you think you are putting me to sleep?" You scream at him, tears of anger forming at your eyes.

His pale face starts turning red as he claws at the invisible pair of hands suspending him above the floor. You hold him there, hanging, choking.

What have we become? you think. The brief period of mutual care and love you shared is long gone, it feels like it never happened. But you know it did. You remember the nights you slept in his arms.

What have I become?

Your mind wanders for half a second. With one trembling hand, he sends you flying across the room; one last desperate attempt at saving his own life. Your hold on him dissolves, and he falls to his knees as you crash into the wall, cursing yourself for letting him overpower you even when he had been virtually powerless.

He sputters, taking in deep, ragged breaths of air as he leans back against the armchair. He doesn't look at you until he's controlled his breathing.

"We're not finished," you shout at him. "Don't you ever do that to me again." You spit the words at him, feeling nausea rise in your stomach. You're so close to saying the words 'I hate you', and it terrifies you. You never felt an emotion this strong.

Sure, there were times where you disliked him, times when you feared him. But never times when you couldn't even look him in the eyes without feeling dangerously violent.

Where is the love you once felt for him?

He stands up, brushes his black robe pants. "You need to know this. I'm leaving." His voice is steady- like he's given this much thought- but you can sense his heart beating faster than normal, can sense the anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

"And where do you intend on going?" You walk up to him, eyeing him carefully. Is this a joke? A scheme to get you off the ship? "You've murdered so many people- there's a bounty on your head. And it's not like you're unrecognisable."

"I need to find Luke. I'll ask him if I should turn myself in. He'll know how to fix this."

He's not even looking at you. The thought of him leaving and you not seeing him again has not yet formed in your mind- though the thought of him no longer bringing chaos into your life has.

"Fix what? What are you? Crazy?"

He pushes past you, but you walk after him, demanding answers.

"You won't last a week without someone seeing you!"

"We'll see," he mumbles under his breath.

You roll your eyes at his back and pinch the bridge of your nose as you think. The nausea in your stomach is becoming too much for you to handle, and you sway backwards as you feel something rise in your chest.

Kylo turns around and looks at you just as you feel your stomach heave, and you push him aside as you run to the shower-room with your hand clutching your mouth shut.

You feel Kylo place an awkward hand on your back as your stomach heaves into the toilet. Your throat burns and fresh tears are rolling down your cheeks when you're done.

"This is all your fault," you say breathlessly, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, as you rest your back against the wall, the cold metal biting against your skin.

"What?"

"When you put me to sleep.. I don't know. Maybe it had some effect on me."

He sighs and grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet, guiding you back to the bed. You don't argue or try to stop him- your knees feel weak and your head is spinning and the last thing you need is another argument with Kylo.

Any kind of emotion you feel towards him always leaves you drained of all energy- though it isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes it drained you of all bad energies; sometimes it felt like it drained you of everything. The connection between you is always present, always strong, and any normal interaction between you two feels amplified and intensified.

Is this why he's so determined to leave? Because he feels weak to control it?

"You need to rest," he tells you as he places his palm over your forehead. "You're not burning up, though."

"I told you- this is an after-effect because of your stupidity."

"I've used that on a lot of people and no-one's ever thrown up after."

He sits down next to you on the bed, and takes your hand in his. "I need to tell you something."

Anxiety spikes through your body at these words- you're so confused you're not sure what to expect. The feeling of his skin touching yours isn't fuelling anger. It's fuelling shame. Shame that you reacted the way you did with him.

Shame that you're becoming the version of him you feared the most.

"You called out a name in your sleep."

"Whose name?" you ask him as you sit up, squeezing his hand.

He looks at your hand in his and swallows, clenching his jaw.

"Lillian."

You look at him puzzled as he utters the name, and then your eyes drift off into nothing as you rack your brains to think of a face belonging to the name.

You don't even feel it as he interlocks his fingers through yours.

The name- it's all too familiar.

Lillian; it brings with it the faintest memories of laughter, hugs. Playtime. Bedtime stories about Princess Leia and what a strong woman she was. Homemade lightsabers. Love.

Family.

Your mother.





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