Threads of Silver

Bleed

You could feel the anger radiate off of him in hot waves.

Way to go, you thought. Insulting him with a lower title of General. But what was his position? You held your breath, moving your gaze downward and cursing your mouth. You were trying to be... respectful. And it backfired majorly.

"You will NOT disrespect me." He continued his approach, long legs giving him lengthy strides. His sudden aggressive demeanor shot just enough adrenaline through you to startle you to a semi standing position. The shift of your body faltered as your weight came down on your injured leg, and you stumbled sideways, trying to regain your balance, knocking the leather chair backwards. 

You stumbled backwards to the wall as he continued to stalk towards you, and your shaky hands met purchase on the railing that trailed the perimeter of the room. 

"Please, I didn't-" 

"I am growing tired of your games. You resist me, you lie to me, and now you mock me."

"What?! I haven't lied about anything!" Your breath was cut off quickly with the raise of his hand, palm outstretched in a Force grip that threatened to crush your windpipe. Your  hands immediately went up to your throat, to try and pry the invisible grip away, but found yourself being lifted off of your feet, toes barely brushing the ground as you shifted and kicked your legs, praying for a release. 

"Commander." A flighty voice, near shouting, interrupted the chaos. You had barely heard him through the pressure in your head and your throat. With an annoyed hiss, the dark figure lowered his hand, and with that, you collapsed to the ground, moaning in agony as your wounded leg crumbled underneath your fall. You gasped for air between the yelps of pain and the string felt like it was knotting itself within the veins in your lungs. 

"She's bled all onto the floor." The red haired authority figure scoffed, glancing down at you, annoyed. As if you were a puppy that pissed on the floor. If you weren't trying to maintain consciousness, you might have been offended. The tall figure was heaving, trying to regain himself. 

"Is that why you came to interrupt, General Hux?" The dark mask spoke, as if gritting his teeth. 

Ah, so the red head is the general. You took a mental note, grasping at your leg, finding your palms covered in blood as the gauze failed to stop the new bleeding. You hugged your good leg to your chest, trying to become smaller as the two men continued their animosity.

General Hux pursed his thin lips, obviously biting his tongue. "No, Commander." 

Commander... Not General. Of course.... You glanced over to the tall figure, who still stood aggressive and angry, fists clenched at his side. He seemed to be struggling to maintain his composure.

"We found it." The ginger stated, firm, no hint of expression betraying his sharp features. At this news, the Commander faltered, his stance relaxing. He turned slowly to you, his expression still unreadable. Your chest had hurt with the tightness of the invisible string, but at his readjustment, it began to loosen. He strode over to you, slowly, and knelt down beside you, his large arms resting on his knees.

"Leave us." He stated, not bothering to look away from you. 

He was addressing the General, but Gods did you wish he was directing that order to you. You felt tiny, frail- everything you hated- under his smoldering eye-less gaze. Without question, the General spun on his heels and left the room. The door behind him closed with finality, and you jumped.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, girl." 

You didn't answer, flinching at his words, but managing to meet his gaze with your own. Your hands were covered in your own blood, and was smeared all around you, openly bleeding through your gauze.

"Just fucking kill me already." At this point, you wanted it over with. You were tired of these games, these assumptions- you were going to die anyway at this rate- from fucking blood loss. He paused, looking over you inquisitively. 

"Not yet." The dark voice replied after a moment, tauntingly. You felt tears well up in your eyes, confirming your fears, but you swallowed to keep them from overflowing. You lowered your head.

"Stand." The figure was at his full height now, standing over you like a great black tree. You didn't move. Not necessarily out of defiance, but out of physical weakness. You just couldn't. Your lack of cooperation, whether it was voluntary or not, angered him. You weren't surprised- it seemed like the very thought of your lungs breathing air pissed him off.

"I.. I can't." 

"That wasn't a suggestion. " He said quickly, unfaltering. Even through the modulator you could tell it was through gritted teeth. When you remained where you were, he exhaled heavily before reaching down with the strike speed of a cobra,  grasping your upper arm and yanking you to a standing position. You yelped, hobbling to where your stance wasn't putting any pressure on your injury. You grabbed at the wall for support, smearing blood along the railing, much to The Commander's distaste. He scoffed, a mechanical huff emitting from his helmet, as he maintained his grip on your arm. 

You hated feeling so weak in front of this authority figure. For some reason, it brought a thick blush to your cheeks, if you even had enough blood left to flush your face. Your leg was agonizing, and you could feel yourself weakening with every struggled movement.

 It seemed this Commander was beginning to see just how wounded you actually were, moving his gaze to your leg. He sighed, grasping your arm once again to move you towards the door. You started hobbling, a slight sliver of hope that he was releasing you, or at least kicking you out of his presence. Instead, he angrily slowed his pace, only slightly, in order to allow you to keep upright and moving forward. His grip stayed tight, and firm. Threatening. Daring you to run, even though you both knew there was no possibility of that. 

A sinking feeling in your gut emerged like a body of water freezing over. There's no way in Hell he would release you- he was going to kill you.