Little Bird (Kylo Ren x Reader AU)

Until it is Nothing

The Knight stepped forward as you crossed the gate, a black wall of carbon and fabric, the pointed red cross on the breast of his cape the only break in the shadow. "Commander Ren requests your presence."

You stopped, tossing a glance over the masked man before nodding. An escort wasn't typical--not for you, anyway. "Well. Lead the way."

The Knights Templar had been patrolling Kylo Ren's property since before he'd returned from the hospital. After he'd called them to Snoke's to alter the scene, his home had been monitored by at least three of them at any given time. One had gone with you when you were questioned by the Eyes--thanks to Christine's report that a guard had killed Commander Snoke, you'd been given the benefit of the doubt and released in silence. A good thing, too, since otherwise they might have discovered the suspiciously bloody handprints on your tits.

Today, you spotted two of the Knights at the front gate and two posted at the side-yards--meaning the last two were in the back. You'd only ever seen all six the first day they'd arrived.

He turned, the flutter of his cape revealing the rifle strapped across his torso, and marched up the driveway, past Ren's Audi, guiding you into the home. The bag in your hand seemed just ounces heavier as you trailed him, heart fluttering at the thought of seeing your Commander. It'd been over a week since you'd spoken. Your last conversation hadn't gone well.

In a way, it'd been almost a relief on your poor body as it recovered from the concussion, the welts, the hickeys, the scabs on your knees and back. Even your cunt was grateful for a breather--you hadn't realized what several days of being constantly, aggressively fucked by Kylo Ren's massive dick had done for your pain tolerance.

That being the case, you would've been lying if you said that you hadn't spent the days since your last tryst remembering the taste of copper on his tongue, the slickened slip of blood on your clit, how he'd looked coated in crimson under the summer sun as the heat of victory, of unity had pumped through you both. That connection had cracked open your ribs, lead your foolish heart to slaughter with the promise of security in your Commander's arms. You weren't delusional to believe that he wanted you as more than his Handmaid--no, the delusion had been the belief that he'd ever see you as his equal.

The Knight led you through the home, and you dropped off your bag in the kitchen--Emma and Rose were clattering away, and you heard Johana's voice, a needle in your ears.

"No, no, don't be stupid. Those don't go there. Emma, will you start the tomato salad for the bruschetta, already? We need at least three different hors d'oeuvres--do you want to be shipped off to the Colonies?"

"Ms. Johana, please, I'm just now--"

"Get to work."

You frowned. It sounded as if they were preparing for something, but what it could be, you didn't know. The thought of another dinner party made your stomach roil.

The doors to Kylo Ren's den were closed when you arrived--the Knight pushed one open, standing solid as he waited for you to enter. Glancing between him and the floor, head bowed, you passed through, and the door shut behind you.

In the light of the day, Ren seemed significantly less suffocating--but no less heady, no less beguiling. He leaned back in his chair, dressed in an open white linen shirt that revealed a ridiculously tempting patch of clavicle. Documents sprawled out in front of him, a fountain pen in his hand. His eyes were dark, full lips pursed as he watched you enter, following your footsteps and swaying skirts as you sat across from him. The bandages were gone, now, and you saw his scar, a pretty pink thread that stretched from his brow to his neck. He swallowed, and the line of it shifted with the motion of his throat. Your fingers itched, wanting to trace it.