That's What You Call A Guest?

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(E/c) orbs blinked hazily. Eyesight so blurry, nothing could be seen clearly.. It was simply a spectrum of colors of white, black, and grey. Color was gone in this environment.

Where am I? She thought. All that was remembered was flames. Starkiller was destroyed, and she was left behind.

(Y/n) shifted, feet uncomfortable in the position her body was strapped into. Restraints across her wrists, ankles, and knees. They were excruciatingly tight and very uncomfortable.

"Wake up," Said a stern robotic voice.
A shrill, cold chill trickled down her spine.
She blinked repeatedly to try and clear up her vision.

Kylo Ren.

Being partially blinded wasn't a good idea in the slightest. Her vision focused on the masked man before her. He stood alone.under that terrifying mask, she could feel a burning gaze.
This was really happening. She was really his prisoner and the information he was looking for might be his.

Ohhh no. (Y/n) was going to be tortured mentally and physically. It was a definite fact that she had to swallow down that fear and stay strong. There was no way he would get any information out of her.

"Where are the others?" she asked, her voice sounded hoarse and low. She mentally cursed herself wanting to sound strong—intimidate him—even if she was under his restraints.

"That Scavenger and Resistance trash you call friends?" Such a snide remark. Obvious disgust in his tone. "I have no idea where they are."

Relief washed over her, releasing a soft sigh. Her friends could be okay. Rey, Finn, Poe and The Resistance; they're all okay.

"What do you want?" she asked, feeling more confident in the situation.

"Don't be like that, You're my guest." His voice! Under that robotic voice, it was easy to hear the taunt. He was playing a silly game.

She scoffed. "Because guests get tied up. Interrogated in such a place! How can I trust you?" Dark glare deepened.

Ren sighed lowly. It came to realization that his mask was lifting from his face.
Quietly (Y/n) watched, wondering why he was doing this.
How could that make anything better?
That thought soon left her mind completely when she saw what kind of face was behind that mask. She was baffled.

She saw a handsome face. His face was pale, but plump lips and dark eyes complimented this. His hair was long and black. It took (y/n)'s breath away for that moment. Never did she expect this. Someone so evil with such a messed up mentality, to look so good.
As a resistance pilot, not many females were in to her thing, she met many handsome men, but not with such a dark aroma around them.
He looked around her age, maybe a little older.
She shook her head getting her mind out of these thoughts. They didn't belong in her head. She didn't need to think about the attractiveness of her captor. (Y/n) didn't want to witness Stockholm Syndrome. When she saw a smirk start to grow on that hideous, but beautiful face, (y/n) began to rid these thoughts further.

"Maybe, now you'll start trusting me?" He knew she expected him to have a messed up face. With scars that hid a story. No, he only had one scar and she knew where that one came from.
But nonetheless, he was merely a young man.

"No way. " She said in a easy tone. (Y/n) was trying her best to keep her cool. Keep her cool that she had around officials and the resistance. It always was played off well...except for this time, unfortunately.

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