The Devil's Touch | Kylo Ren

TWENTY-ONE

The world was twisting as if the devil had dipped his arrowed tail into the sky and began stirring his concoction of evil into the good of the rosy hue. Night was falling, and so was Kylo Ren's blood and body heat. Eve sat ever-so-beautifully in the middle of his foggy vision, clear as any angel could be but the distress in her eyes was causing a fatal flaw in his kaleidoscopic, brown eyes.

The snow still dropped passed the window that she sat in-front of but slower than usual – and as they pelted against the pane, their icy touch was clashing against the heat of the dining hall, causing ivy-like tendrils to run down the mist. He flicked his eyes quickly to the tendrils and then back to her, but the ivy was all he could think about as the sky was no longer the pinkest thing in the world, but it seemed her quivering bottom lip and the whites of her tired eyes were.

The ferns of greenery seemed to be metaphorically binding his closed fits firmer than any cuff of silver ever could. They must have grown and slithered like little snakes, following Eve from the Garden Of Eden and to this wretched place instead. Her mere gaze is enough to send them his way, wrapping around his stiff legs, up his toned torso, tightening around his neck and choking him until they glide through his agape and stunned mouth, down his throat and onwards to his stone heart – which for the first time ever, cracked.

Kylo Ren's chest burned, and it wasn't because of the ache in his lungs from refusing to breathe inwards, frightened by the slight chance that all that could escape his mouth is a quivering hum – it was an agonising pain that was like an explosion in his stomach, cement replacing the blood in his veins, sharp claws digging into and hanging on every single bone of his... but he knew the pain was not real. It was something only himself was wielding, therefor he was creating it from something else.

Fear. He want's to spit on the very emotion and kill it more violently than he had ever murdered before. He was fearful, but only because she didn't look fearful. In fact, Eve didn't look anything but confused – dazed perhaps. And that mere factor scared Kylo more than anything, for the state she was in – dressed like an inmate, hunched over a lonely and losing chessboard, life lacking in the dull colours of her skin, should have made her flee into his bound arms to somehow find comfort out of the darkest being in the room.

Maybe, she was beyond scared beneath the fragile, yet unmoving mask she wore right now? Kylo wondered. Perhaps, the torture of her colliding faith and sins, had become too much and she realised that he was the root to all of her ivy-like problems? That had to be it.

Kylo Ren swallowed roughly and sighed. The sorrow is what must have been left with Eve when she needed something tangible the most, and she finally realised that the terror of his enchanting smile – was only a haunting smirk. And it was at the start, but now... Kylo Ren doesn't even know what has happened to him to be able to tangibly explain, nor understand it, himself.

Her last words were engraved in the tombstone of his heart, no longer ringing in his ears for at least the pulse of his soaring veins are louder than the shouts of his wicked memory.

The pink of the sky cascades into a falling of dark blue, and soon enough it will deepen into a shadow of black with nothing but the face of the toe-nail shaped moon, to light up the bland territory they could've escaped – but just like her defence dabbled across the stiffness of her face, Kylo knows that she could have never fled with him if she was battling such conflict. Eve must have properly understood that he was bad for her, and he knew that too. But that didn't mean that he wasn't hurt that in the end, she turned back to the light which summoned what was good for her, leaving him in the melancholia of his own shadows – alone, with none other than the devil on his broad shoulder.

Though, that didn't explain the lack of drapes covering the soft flesh of her arms and knees which poked out from beneath the paper-like dress that all female inmates wore. Whatever that bastard preacher had planned, must have been created for the sickening pleasure of watching the Sister be stripped from all that she knew, thrown with the mingling of the crazy – only to eventually pull her back out in a few minutes, so she can realise how good she really had it. And would she really ever want to risk a life this confining and twisted, just for Kylo Ren? No. She wouldn't, he confirms.