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I’m laying in my private bunk. The perks of being the last Jedi, I think bitterly. I fluff my pillow and bury my face in it, trying to smother my emotions in soft bedding. I feel so damn lonely.
I think back to Be- no. He’s Kylo now, isn’t he? Even with those words: You’re not alone. But he left me, threw me away like everyone else does. For a moment, I let myself think maybe he would understand this loneliness. Being a symbol for a war you’re tired of fighting.
But he showed up in his stupid mask, after a year of nothing, asking me to join him and leave everything I love behind - for the second time. I huff and lay back down on my side, trying to stop thinking about anything, everything. He stays in the back of my mind.
Staring at the wall, I suddenly feel him sitting across the room.
“Thinking of me?” He asks. His voice is metallic through that awful, stupid, emotionless metal mask. I guess I let him in, didn’t I?
“I let my walls down. I’m tired. Won’t happen again, Kylo,” I bite out.
I can’t see his face, wouldn’t be able to if I tried. Still, I can feel his eyes glaring at the floor. I shut down the thought that maybe, just maybe, I knew him well enough to know.
The silence hangs over us both.
“What were you thinking about me, anyways?” He asks, tone even. I decide to be honest. Lying is too hard right now.
“You put your mask back on,” I murmur, letting out emotion I forgot to hide. I at least keep my walls up. It hurts, not letting him in.
He huffs. “You shut the door. In my face. What reason do I have to show it anymore?” He sounds… sad. Even through the modulator.
I let out a breath. “Maybe because I miss your eyes,” I whisper, admitting something I didn’t even allow myself to dwell on.
I feel something from his side for the first time in a year: shock. I suppose I took him by surprise.
Realizing the weight of what I’ve admitted, I shut my eyes. “Please leave, Kylo.”
I feel a burst of hurt from him before he can snatch it back.
“Alright.”
He gingerly shuts the bond. I curl into a ball and pretend there aren’t tears running down my face, because I’m starting to realize maybe I’m not the only one tired of hiding.
--
The next time we connect, it’s two weeks later, and I’m sitting on my bed, reading. I feel his eyes on me. His mask is off.
“I thought we were done with this,” I grumble, refusing to look up at him.
“I did, too. Don’t pretend like I’m happy about this either.”
I look up at him, trying to hide the hurt in my eyes. A thought rings loud in my mind: He doesn’t want to see you.
“No, that’s-” Kylo starts, his expression changing. I look down at my book and interrupt him.
“Why do you always appear in my bedroom, anyways?” I question, my tone annoyed instead of dejected.
“You’re in mine, too,” he challenges. There’s no anger behind it. He’s quiet. I look back up at him.
There’s a pause.
“You put your hair back up.”
I shut my eyes, trying to ignore the softness in his voice. “Just like you said, I shut the door. I left that back on Crait.” I try to pretend that I’m bitter and not trying to hide my errant self-consciousness.
I feel something, stronger this time. Emotion from his side. A thought. Quiet, but there.
But I liked it. It was pretty.
I shake my head, harnessing the force, and slam the bond shut before he can sense my reaction.
I realize belatedly that his walls were down.
I think back and realize mine were, too.
--
I decide to let down my hair again. I liked it better. Not because Kylo Ren liked it; I would never do something like that for him.
My brain ever-so-helpfully pipes up, But you would do it for Ben Solo. I shut the thought down immediately and try to forget all about it.
Later on, I'm in bed, having another fitful night’s rest, when Kylo - Force, I hate calling him that - appeared in my bed beside me. I open my eyes and see him, laying right across from me, eyes closed and chest rising and falling.
I think, this must be a dream.
“Ben?” I whisper, deciding that if this was a dream, I was going to have him back for a night, damn it.
He opens his eyes, and they immediately soften. He looks at me with an expression that makes my heart skip a beat; a lopsided smile, all for me. “Rey,” he breathes, sounding relieved. Does dream-Ben miss me too?
I take a shuddering breath, voice shaky. “I miss you, Ben. I’m so tired of lying. I’m so fucking tired of being lonely like this.” I sniffle and look up at him desperately.
“Oh, Rey,” he whispers almost reverently, brushing my hair behind my ear and looking me in the eyes. “You’re never alone, as long as I’m here.” He gathers me to his chest with his arm and the dam breaks.
This time, I let myself cry. I let myself express all the horrible, pent up emotions I had been hiding from myself and others for months. While I sniffle into his chest, he brings his hand up and runs his hand through my hair soothingly.
“I love you,” he murmurs. I cling to him tighter, my chest filling with a warm, happy feeling.
“I love you too, Ben,” I say into his neck. I sigh. “Why can’t it be like this when I’m awake?”
Ben pulls away abruptly and looks down at my tear-streaked face, looking confused. I immediately reach my arms out for him to come back, but he doesn’t budge.
“What do you mean? I’m the one who’s asleep.”
Realization dawns on both of our faces at the same time. We remain quiet, looking into each other’s eyes, searching each other’s expressions.
I look into his eyes, voice timid. “Do you really mean it? I’m not alone?”
He threads his fingers through my hair and keeps them there. “Of course I mean it, Rey. I’ve always meant it.”
“Can we stay like this? For the night?” I ask. He pulls me close to him again, and I nuzzle my face in his neck.
“Anytime you want, cyar’ika. Any damn time you want.”