When Light Meets Dark - A Reylo Romance

Alternate Ending 2 - Welcome to The Dark Side

Hi.

So I know you guys probably hate me already for releasing this so late and I honestly don't even know how to begin apologising. So instead, I'll just introduce you to this second ending. In this one, Kylo is killed in the Battle on Hoth and Rey leaves the Resistance for a fresh start. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and thank you so much for all your support on this book as it comes to an end. Don't forget to vote and comment on this chapter and I apologise for any typos, I wanted to get it out as soon as possible. Enjoy :)

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"It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone."

~John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent

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Rey

"I'll have a Riosan Vodka. Neat."

The bartender looked up at me from beneath her unruly red hair, her eyes darting from my face to my hands and then back to my face. She gave a small nod and turned her back to me, whilst I clasped my hands tighter and looked around. The bar was unusually crowded and the low-hanging lights on the ceiling shone faintly on the faces of people who were either too drunk to move or gyrating wildly to the music. Lurking in the darker corners one could just about make out one or two storm troopers, huddled together, watching keenly through their visors.

"Here you go." The bartender set down my glass with unnecessary force, bringing my attention back to her. The drink sloshed against the sides of the glass.

"You alright love? You look a little pale." she said after I'd sat in silence for a while, my drink untouched. I shook my head and forced a smile onto my face.

"I'm fine." I answered and then, just to reassure her, I took a big gulp of my drink. The liquid burned down my throat and I felt my eyes watering.

She shrugged and began to arrange the bottles on the shelf.  Two men walked in, dressed in black clothing and made their way over to the bar. One of them had an eye patch over one eye. As he passed my stool he shot me a glance with his good eye and I couldn't tell whether it was appreciative or intimidating. I took another sip of my vodka and looked back at the bartender. She was wearing an open back shirt which revealed a vast collection of tattoos. One of them stood out to me, it was a symbol of some sort and I felt as if I'd seen it before.

"Excuse me." She turned. "What does your tattoo mean?"

"You've got to be a bit more specific than that love." she replied.

"The one that looks like a blade."

"Ah." she said with a smile. "I got that one when I was fifteen. After I'd finished my training."

"You were a soldier?" I asked in surprise, eyeing her lean arms and narrow soldiers in surprise.

She shrugged. "You could say that." she said in reply, and I waited for her to continue but she said nothing. I took another gulp and set down the glass.

"So." she began, folding her arms over the counter. "Care to share why you look so glum?"

Automatically I reached for my glass, but it was empty. I swallowed.

"I...had a friend. He died three years ago today." I said quickly, before I choked on my words. The bartender's brow creased in concern. "I'm sorry to hear that." she said. I nodded, and deep down in me something ached. I'd hoped that over the years the pain would numb, maybe even disappear completely. How foolish of me.