You're not alone.

me:

Who the hell does this guy think he is, storming into her bedroom and acting as if it’s nothing? This is her SANCTUARY– no one is allowed in. It’s INTRUSIVE and quite frankly she’d like to throw something at him– a book perhaps. Something to get him to turn around and never come back. Rey climbs out of bed and rushes over to her stereo to pause her music for the time being, then turns to look at the INTRUDER.

He’s soon identified as one of her father’s new PATIENTS. Great, so this kid clearly has something wrong with him. What could it possibly be?

“ So your first instinct was to barge in? You could have at least knocked, but I’ll let it slide this one time if you can prove that you’re not just another NORMAL person. Normal people SCARE me. It’s kind of my thing.”  Though now that she thinks about it, how normal could he possibly be if he’s seeing her father?  “ I’d like to think of myself as someone similar to Morrisey. He’s cool. And he’s pissy, and he HATES everyone and everything. ”

“You’re right, my bad. Won’t happen again,” Ben apologised sheepishly, although he couldn’t help the small smile on his face. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the girl had thrown something at his head, but somehow that didn’t put him off. When she spoke again, Ben’s dark brown eyes lit up.

“They scare you too, huh?” He grinned, giving a small shrug. “Well, I would’ve thought the fact that I’m seeing your dad already classified me as not normal.” Ben took a small step forward so that he wasn’t standing awkwardly between the door and the wall, but not too far forward; he didn’t want to annoy the girl even more. 

He thought for a moment. “Morrissey... yeah, okay, I see that. Personally, I’d wanna be similar to Kurt Cobain. I’m nowhere near that cool, though.” Hands in his pockets, Ben watched Rey curiously yet shyly. That was a pretty name.

Los Angeles; The city of angels. City of dreams. City of…smog.

If it weren’t for her father’s INFIDELITY they could have stayed in Massachusetts where everyone sucked a little less, but no, they had to move here of all places. It’s CROWDED, it’s SMOGGY, the people here are RUDE and overall lame…it’s hell in a nutshell. Her parents would argue the opposite. They’re in love with this old and decrepit house. News flash: stained Tiffany glass and hard wood floors are not going to save their marriage.

We’re going to be HAPPY here. It’s a bold claim for her father of all people to make, but at least they get to live in a MURDER HOUSE. It’s the only thing in this damned city that has character.

Rey settles down in her room for the day to keep from having to interact with her parents. They act like they’re so CONCERNED about her when really she knows that they don’t give a damn. They’re just trying to give themselves some sort of VALIDATION for this move. How are you feeling? Are you being bullied? Are you sure you don’t need to go to therapy? She’s a NORMAL, pissed off teenager, not another one of her father’s fucked up patients. God she wishes they would just shut up for a change and let her live her life– let her figure out if she’s MISERABLE or not on her own. Fun fact: she is.

“You don’t think I can get better?” he asks, tilting his head to the side a little.

“You? You’re hopeless.” There’s a small pause; then the psychiatrist begins to laugh, and realising it was a joke, Ben is able to join in. “Everyone can get better, Ben!”

The session isn’t particularly out of the ordinary, but it’s good enough. At least Ben has someone to talk to that isn’t his mother. On his way out, Ben becomes aware of the faint sound of music, and it seems to be coming from upstairs. Upon listening closer, the boy smiles to himself as he recognises the song. Whoever’s playing it has great taste. 

Deciding to let curiosity get the better of him, Ben gently runs his fingers along the bannister as he slowly makes his way upstairs. This is probably a mistake, but he can’t resist carefully opening the door to find the source of the music. He’s met by a rather beautiful girl - Ben can’t help but notice how soft her hair looks, and there’s an angry fire in her eyes at the sight of him. She seems strong.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to know who it was that has such awesome music taste,” he replies with a small, awkward smile as he stays by the door frame. “I’m Ben, I was just here seeing your dad.”

“I… don’t understand…” Kylo mumbled, although he wasn’t even sure what it was that he didn’t understand. Just, any of this… and yet, he didn’t let go of Fane’s hand. He also sensed something else in Fane. Fear, was it? Of him? Or something else?

“You’re afraid,” he murmured, wondering if he was the cause of this.

Fane went very, very still. The precarious, fragile nature of the moment made her want to reassure him that it wasn’t him, precisely, that she feared. At the same time, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to explain it to him yet.

partner: oh cool what is it!

me:

He sensed a reaction from Fane. Kylo wasn’t deliberately trying to read her, but it was hard not to notice, especially being force sensitive like he was. Then again, he was reacting too. This kind of simple touch was almost overwhelming for him. 

And when she held his hand, Kylo’s breath hitched. 

Slowly, he turned his head and locked eyes with Fane. He was so unsure of all of this. What did this mean? Did she just feel sorry for him? Or did she genuinely care? Why would anyone feel sorry for someone like him?

“I’m sorry, I… I’m not used to this.”

Fane thought about the last time a man had touched her in a familiar fashion…and her stomach flipped. She hastily shoved the memory away before it had a chance to reach Kylo.

“Neither am I,” she whispered. “But I think we’re doing all right.”

A sudden yawn stretched her mouth and she covered her mouth with her free hand. A nearby chrono chimed.

Adam Driver Appreciation Week: Star Wars

Kylo briefly flinched at the touch, but he didn’t move away for some reason. He found himself exhaling shakily; when was the last time he had been touched so gently, by someone who wasn’t trying to hurt him? He thought back, and it had been just before his father had plunged to the depths of the Starkiller base. 

“Neither are you,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Without thinking, his fingertips brushed against Fane’s with a feather light touch.

Her heart did a funny jerk when his fingers touched hers. She wore gloves, as regulation demanded, and so did he. There was no skin-on-skin contact. Nevertheless, it felt incredibly intimate. Fane felt her face growing warm.

And when she held his hand, Kylo’s breath hitched. 

Slowly, he turned his head and locked eyes with Fane. He was so unsure of all of this. What did this mean? Did she just feel sorry for him? Or did she genuinely care? Why would anyone feel sorry for someone like him?

“Lonely?” Kylo repeated, frowning a little, but not in anger. More in disbelief. Had Kylo ever considered himself to be lonely? Well, no, but it was true that he was in denial of many things, particularly his own emotions. His parents had given up on him, his uncle had tried to kill him, and Kylo had killed his own father. Not one day went past when Kylo didn’t remember his father’s face on that day, and the brief touch of his hand before he fell. 

Yes, his mother was still alive, but it was safe to assume that she wouldn’t want anything to do with Kylo now, wasn’t it? So the supreme leader truly was alone. Fane was right. 

“I suppose I am alone,” he agreed quietly, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear.

She did hear him. And the words went right through her.

The First Order was not ‘touchy-feely’. They didn’t consider themselves to be a part of a family or anything sentimental like that. Fane had friends, though sometimes the word ‘friend’ just meant ‘someone currently not trying to kill her or outdo her’. She felt loneliness a lot, too, especially when the nightmares came and there was no one to comfort her.

Even though he hadn’t liked it when she touched him last, Fane slowly reached out to brush her fingers against his arm. “You aren’t alone at this moment.”

That was something Kylo enjoyed about Fane; her sharpness and quick wit that kept him on his toes, despite his rank. He stared at the floor a few moments longer, before glancing back over at Fane. 

“I don’t know,” he replied simply, brow furrowed. He didn’t like not knowing, not being in complete control. And she was right; he had been subconsciously seeking Fane out while wandering around the ship at night. “You’re less draining to be around than everyone else, I suppose. And… You don’t seem afraid of me.” Kylo carefully watched her face, wondering if he had said too much already.

“You seem to care, too. Why?”

While it was true that Fane had been afraid of Kylo in the beginning, multiple conversations had made him seem less like a boogeyman and more like a human. She’d found herself gradually relaxing around him, to the point of questioning his motives. But, it never occurred to her that he would gravitate toward someone who didn’t fear him.

Her face was solemn. Understanding. At his question, her brows furrowed.

Yes, his mother was still alive, but it was safe to assume that she wouldn’t want anything to do with Kylo now, wasn’t it? So the supreme leader truly was alone. Fane was right. 

“ It’s a POWER that the JEDI have that lets them CONTROL people and make things FLOAT. "                                 IND // PRIV // SEL//  Rey of Star Wars // Loved by Bella

Alright, he walked right into that one. Kylo clenched his jaw a fraction harder, before letting out an exasperated sigh. He was used to being called out by Hux, but that was different. Hux didn’t care about him in the slightest, he just did it to wind Kylo up. Fane, despite her anger, didn’t seem to be calling him out for that purpose. It was almost as if she cared about him for some reason. And as much as he didn’t want to, Kylo cared about her.

“Well played,” he grumbled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. This was probably the closest he was going to get to admitting that Fane was right, for now, anyway. Kylo slowly sat in one of the chairs near Fane (but not too near), staring at the floor. What now?

Damn right, well played. She may be sleep deprived but she was still sharp. Mostly. After he sat down, she studied him for a moment. Fane wondered why he sat rather than just leave.

“I don’t know,” he replied simply, brow furrowed. He didn’t like not knowing, not being in complete control. And she was right; he had been subconsciously seeking Fane out while wandering around the ship at night. “You’re less draining to be around than everyone else, I suppose. And... You don’t seem afraid of me.” Kylo carefully watched her face, wondering if he had said too much already.

Kylo wasn’t going to move forward any further, he just wanted to be able to speak quietly and for Fane to be able to hear him. He wasn’t going to invade her space; after all, he knew he hated that too.

Then Fane pointed out the obvious, and once again, Kylo was taken by surprise. Nobody had ever pointed that out about him before, perhaps because they were afraid to, or they just hadn’t noticed. Probably the former. Kylo was silent for a while, and he considered storming out in his usual fashion. His jaw and fists clenched, and dark eyes flickered away from Fane. 

“I’m fine,” he said firmly. 

He wasn’t. It was obvious, just as it was obvious that Fane wasn’t fine. They both stood in the midst of their individual turmoils, jaws set, and determined to keep going on as if nothing at all was wrong. Because what else could they do? It wasn’t like anyone cared.

But it struck Fane that she did care about Kylo. She did care about his well-being. And it seemed–as ludicrous as it sounded–that Kylo cared about her well-being. Why completely escaped her.

“Oh.” Now what was he supposed to do if she’d chosen to permanently work at night? Kylo couldn’t exactly force Fane to change her schedule. Well, technically he could, he was the Supreme Leader, but he didn’t want to resort to that. Not when he understood what she was going through. And of course Hux only cared about results, that was typical of him. 

“You’re going to have to sleep at some point, you know. You must be exhausted.” Kylo took a few more steps forward, still watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “This isn’t healthy.”

Fane wasn’t so sure what to think, with Kylo coming forward as he was. He was close to encroaching on her personal space. She tightened her arms around her waist.

Then Fane pointed out the obvious, and once again, Kylo was taken by surprise. Nobody had ever pointed that out about him before, perhaps because they were afraid to, or they just hadn’t noticed. Probably the former. Kylo was silent for a while, and he considered storming out in his usual fashion. His jaw and fists clenched, and dark eyes flickered away from Fane. 

“Hm.” Kylo hummed in understanding; he too had dealt with nightmares that started out being about one specific event, then evolved into a horrific mixture of things he thought he’d put behind him. The problem was, Kylo still hadn’t found healthy ways to deal with this, since he didn’t open up to anybody, so he didn’t know how to help Fane.

“I understand,” he said quietly, assuming Fane would be able to read between the lines and see what he was implying. “The General doesn’t see any issue with you always working so late, then?” Surely Hux must have been able to see how exhausted Fane was. Did he just not care? Then again, usually Kylo wouldn’t have cared.

Fane wrapped her arms around her waist. She ached for some sort of comfort but wasn’t about to reach out for it. Whether his ‘I understand’ was truth or mere platitude, Fane wasn’t sure. She was just grateful he hadn’t pressed for specifics.