Threads of Silver

Fruit

You lurched up in bed, still unsure of your surroundings. The room was deadly quiet- the only sound was your breathing. You pulled the covers closer to you, eyes searching the room for... him. 

To your surprise, the room was completely empty. 

You were still wary- he could be lurking around here somewhere. You brought your feet to the side of the bed, bare soles hitting the cool marble floor. Your stomach, pinching and growling just at the scent of food, led you to the kitchen area. You hadn't eaten in... quite a while, and felt the hunger through the fuzziness in your head. 

On the counter was a silver platter full of brightly colored food- various fruits, breads, vegetables. The brightness of the meal before you was so contrasted against the dark, monotone room that surrounded you. 

You were grateful the cool-toned lights were on instead of the red casted LED. The scarlet color was almost becoming triggering to you, signifying the presence of Kylo. 

A small, digital frame sat propped against the plate of food. It read:

"Eat.           

-Commander Ren." 

You half scoffed, reaching for a yellow slice of fruit that looked especially dewey. Of course- he was giving you strict orders even when he wasn't there. If you wanted to be stubborn and ignore his direct order, your stomach wouldn't let you. 

Just as you brought the food to your lips, you paused, drool pooling below your tongue.

You sniffed it- sweet and sour smelling. Was it poisoned? You pulled it away, eyeing it suspiciously, and looked around the room. You bent over the counter, bringing your nose to the rest of the plate, eyeing it carefully. Would you even be able to tell if it were poisoned....? 

You shifted, saliva still flooding your mouth. You were starving. 

You decided to test your luck (Hell, they hadn't killed you yet, right?) and took a bite. The flavor was tart, but sweet, and soon you found yourself eating ravenously- nearly inhaling the chunks of sweet fruit. Every other bite, you grabbed a chunk of porous bread loaf, tearing off chunks nearly choking. 

Your stomach proved to be faster than your mouth was able to chew, but soon the sharp edge of your hunger had subsided, and you were facing a near-empty platter in front of you. 

You found a seat on the loveseat in the living area, the black leather thick, hard, and uncomfortable. The stiff leather was not made for comfort. It matched the rest of these quarters- there was nothing that did not have a purpose within this room. Minimal, black, red, and silvery chrome. 

It felt cold. 

It was cold.

You crossed your arms in front of you, trying to gain some comfort. 

You had guessed about an hour or so had passed, but you weren't sure. The hunger in your stomach was gone, but it was quickly replaced with the anxiety of the unknown. You reflected on your experience the night before. 

You were at your most vulnerable in front of the Commander- and yet, he did not take advantage. The famously heartless and rigid Commander Ren.... helped breathe you through a panic attack. 

He didn't mock you. He didn't take advantage of your weak state...

He didn't use your panic as an opportunity to break into your mind. He helped you. 

You glanced over to the near empty platter of food. 

He fed you. 

You took a deep breath. Perhaps this was just an... advanced means of torture?