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More Huxes for my First Order lookbook project. I’m done with the Hux section, time to move on to Ren and Phasma ✨

Ahhh!! Thank you!! This was a very sweet surprise to find in my askbox <3 *throws more of the starkiller booty at you* : ) 

It’s 1985 and hate at first sight as Armitage Hux the new English transfer student meets Ben ‘Kylo’ Solo on his first day. So when Principal Organa finds them with matching black eyes outside her office, she reads them the riot act before forcing them to spend time together.  

If only Ardan wouldn’t have followed him down with his careless footsteps on the stairs. At least Locklann had made a real attempt to stay as quiet as he possibly could and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have attracted attention until it would’ve been too late to stop him, but Ardan was complicating matters. His footsteps were quick, as well as heavy, and his shouts–although hissed–were louder than they should’ve been.

It was no wonder that their father had rushed into the hallway, before Locklann had managed to outstretch his hand to the doorknob. He’d almost made it, but was then pulled back, away from the one thing he’d needed.

His father’s hand was tight around his lower arm and Locklann could practically feel the worry in it. It was overpowering whatever anger his father felt, because he knew what it meant when Locklann ran away and it often didn’t mean coming back in one piece. But Locklann had no time to comfort him, or make him feel better, because he wasn’t feeling anything himself. Nothing besides rage, that was. And so he yanked his arm back, no caring that he nearly sprained his wrist in the process, as it pulled free from his father’s hand.

He was backing away, closer to the door once more, trying to think faster than he really could. His father was stepping forward, but before he could reach out to take hold of Locklann a second time, he exploded.

“NO!” he yelled, while he pulled out of reach and a split second later he’d shoved both his hands against his father’s chest with as much force as he could manage. It wasn’t a lot, but considering the motion had come as such a surprise, his father was momentarily staggering. It didn’t matter that none of this could lead to anything better. It didn’t matter that he was only making things worse. All that mattered was that he was feeling too much of one thing and it had to get out.

Ardan was frozen for the moment. He was almost at the bottom of the stairs, watching how their father suddenly stepped into the hallway and stopped Locklann. He felt grateful, for a moment, but then his stomach turned with nausea. He should have been quieter. He shouldn’t have been so obvious... but then Locklann would have run out and then what? There was no way that could have lead anywhere good, especially not considering Locklann had this bizarre capability of running much faster than Ardan did, if he needed to.

“Locklann--” but it was already too late. Locklann had shoved his hands against their father’s chest and Ardan remembered what had happened the last time he himself had done something like that and not apologised immediately, or at least soon enough afterwards. It hadn’t been good. In fact, the outcome had hurt for days.

“Locklann--” he started, his words almost being followed by ‘stop’, not because he thought Locklann ought to, but because this was only going to make things worse. The reason they didn’t, was because a moment later their father had a firm grip on Locklann’s upper arm and the look in his eyes was a mix of betrayal and anger and panic and that never meant any good. Ardan shot forwards, his hand moving out to Locklann’s other arm.

Locklann knew what that word meant. It meant Ardan was really trying and that made it almost unfair that Locklann wasn’t able to help him do anything, but that was just the way it was. That’s how it always was. That was the whole point of this stupid depression or whatever this was. It never let Locklann do the things he knew he would have cared about if the situation had been completely different.

“No.” He didn’t specify what he meant. He didn’t specify what that was in answer to, because there wasn’t anything in specific he was responding to in the first place. It was just that this was his answer to all of it.

From one moment to the next be was pushing himself up. It didn’t matter that he barely had any strength in his arms from having spent the last few hours slowly passing out. It didn’t matter that his shirt slipped back down to cover his wounds, because the pain was never enough anyway.

Locklann glanced in Ardan’s direction a moment, nothing but fury in his expression. And then he was getting up. It was a good thing he was still wearing his trousers, and it was easy to snatch his jumper off the floor he’d tossed it on when he’d been sent back to his bedroom, clutching his jumper to his chest like it would somehow bode him comfort against the angry burns across his skin.

A moment later he was storming out. It took the element of surprise to get past Ardan and he still had no idea whether he’d make it to the door or not, but he was going to try, because he couldn’t stay here a moment longer without going insane. More insane.

For a moment, his heart was racing and his chest felt a little lighter. It was hope, he realised, and he felt so glad to see Locklann getting up, complying. He wanted nothing but for Locklann to just make an effort to feel better, to listen to Ardan and come with him like Ardan had asked.

But then Locklann was past him and his footsteps were so quick that Ardan was completely taken by surprise. Locklann had tricked him. The bastard.

He immediately turned around, leaving Locklann’s bedroom door wide open. He tried to reach out to catch him, but he was mistaken to think that just because Locklann had been lying lifelessly in the bed before, he didn’t have any strength. He had as much strength as he always did. Perhaps even more, now his body was likely fueled by adrenaline.

“Locklann!” He didn’t want to attract attention, but if he could stop Locklann before he got outside, he might be able to stop this from getting worse. If he could shock Locklann back to realise that he was just getting himself in more trouble... He almost stumbled over his own feet on the stairs with the speed he was chasing Locklann down them. It was the hand on the railing that allowed him to run so quickly. “Locklann, for fu--”

Locklann felt almost glad for their mother’s disruption, as it at least changed the tension in the room. Locklann couldn’t say it had changed for the better, necessarily, but at least Ardan wasn’t idly standing by Locklann’s bed, wrecking his brain for a solution that didn’t exist in the first place. It wasn’t just painful for Locklann to realise Ardan was helpless too, but it was a confrontation Ardan probably would rather avoid in the first place.

Locklann winced quietly once Ardan returned and proceeded to get Locklann more comfortable. His hand immediately begin tingling at the return of blood to his fingers, which was almost disappointing. Was he supposed to feel better now? Because he didn’t.

“I don’t want to talk,” Locklann replied, sounding as bitter as he’d done before, though his voice was closer to breaking now. It probably had something to do with how Ardan thought he could just shove Locklann around and expect it all to work out. It wasn’t that simple! And Locklann hadn’t wanted to move from his uncomfortable spot ever again.

Now it almost felt like he ought to be grateful. And he really wasn’t. He’d have to actually feel something in order to be grateful and the only thing that was currently going through his mind was mad rage. Emphasis on mad.

“I told you to leave me alone,” Locklann said again, almost hissed. He didn’t want to be left alone, he could feel that now, but he had to say it, because only then could he get to the part where Ardan staying might actually have an effect in that it’d be exactly what Locklann hadn’t asked for. And that’d be reason enough to explode.

He was trying. Or at least, he wanted this to go better so badly that he ought to be trying it utmost best, but every time he tried to access all of those things Locklann had told him would help, his mind drew a blank. He had to come up with a plan, a complete one, and then present it to Locklann in a way that would make him feel, somehow, like everything was better. But first he had to get through this... bitterness.

"And I said I wasn't going to leave you alone, idiot," he retorted with as little annoyance in his voice as he could possibly manage. He reached out again and stroked a strand of hair back from Locklann's face, but knew that it would likely help little. It wasn't as if Locklann cared about, well, anything at this point, right?

The silence was almost more annoying than the talking had been. Silence meant Ardan had absolutely no idea what to do with the situation, yet refused to leave like Locklann had suggested he do. It meant Ardan didn’t want to give up, but had absolutely nothing he could think of doing to help. Locklann wondered how long he was going to stand there for, wordlessly, before he’d either accept he couldn’t help and walk out of here, or come up with something that’d actually help. Not that Locklann believed there was such a thing.

It turned out there indeed wasn’t, as Ardan picked the middle route which was basically doing nothing, while pretending it was going to help.

“Go away…”

Locklann felt sad. His anger had suddenly turned into it, but he was pretty sure it could easily revert back. That’s what always happened when he got like this. Every emotion that made it through would feel ten times as strong. And of course that was never a good thing.

He was thinking about the whiskey Ardan had offered, but there was no way he was going to go for a bath first. It just wasn’t worth it.

It was a miracle it had taken as long as it had done, but then a voice sounded form downstairs. “Ardan? Are you coming back down?” She managed to make it sound like she was simply keen to talk to him, considering it’d been a while. Locklann wondered if that was all there was to it, but figured that things were never that simple and innocent around here. Everyone always had a hidden motive.

He knew it had been coming, his mother's voice, and he didn't want it. He didn't want to be called down while in the middle of something way more important. Something that was _their_ fucking responsibility to fix in the first place. He gritted his teeth and stepped towards the door and opened it so he could shout downstairs. Her voice had sounded from downstairs, rather than from the stairs, which meant she wouldn't know which door it came from anyway.

"I'm just unpacking my things. I might be a little while!" his voice was cheerful and happy, which was the total opposite of how he felt and he was putting it on so they couldn't possibly think that he was with Locklann--because surely they knew there was nothing happy about Locklann right now.

He turned around and looked at Locklann, the little light from the hallway lighting up the room a little more. Ardan looked at him, at how he was lying with his arms pressed beneath him, face half pressed into the pillow. He was uncomfortable.

Locklann actually let out a chuckle, but it was cold and void of humor. It served no other propose except a mocking one. All evening he’d wanted to break things, but hadn’t found the energy to. Now he might be able to break something with nothing but a bunch of words. Of course he was going to try.

“You actually think this is all on Nissim?” When the marks painted across Locklann’s backs had so clearly been made by another hand. He chuckled again, because it was all he could do in his current state. It was all he could do not to burst out into aggressive shouting instead.

“You didn’t have to come, by the way.”

Only a few hours ago the knowledge of Ardan being on his way had been enough to keep Locklann going, but in retrospect it had been nothing but false hope and right now it would have been easier if he’d never had to suffer through any of that at all. A breakdown had been imminent anyway. Ardan had just delayed it by a few hours. That was all. And now he felt he had the right to get angry, while he didn’t. Locklann hadn’t chosen for any of this and Nissim hadn’t made it happen either. Ardan just wanted to make it seem that way, so he could pass on the blame.

“Leave me alone.” So Locklann could find the energy to get up at some point during the night, crawl to his desk and search the top drawer for the secret he kept there.

Was Locklann doing this on purpose? He sometimes wondered that, but instead of that making him feel some form of sympathy for his little brother, he just felt even angrier instead, because why the fuck would Locklann do something like that? If only anger wasn't so blinding, then perhaps Ardan would have been able to see some sense in all of this.

"You know that's never worked on me," Ardan replied. "I don't 'leave you alone'," he mocked. "I didn't come over here to fucking leave you alone."

His stomach twisted and he straightened his back, putting his hands on his hips as if that would somehow help him gain some control back over this situation, while he knew it wasn't. He was still looking for a solution, for a way to bargain with Locklann who apparently just wanted to behave unreasonably and completely out of order instead. Which was fucking annoying.