THREE

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The view from across her home, is much more exquisite to capture the beauteous of her glory as she paints from the studio in her small apartment, where canvasses line the walls and paintbrushes clutter the floors around her bare feet.

Yes, Kylo nods to himself as he watches her, it is much better than the position on the grimy pavement below, which he had been previously stalking her from.

There is no possible way to be brought into her perfection but he had been allured to her as if she had nothing more than just a bewitching morality of tantalising, beauty which is only another form of savagery to compel with the kindness of her tone.

Okay – So he understands that he is much more than devoted to her now, he is obsessed, infatuated, besotted and absolutely, utterly, in love with her.

Oh, the things he would do for her before her untimely death, because yes, he still must kill her eventually... he can't just be dragged around in this love-struck way for too long – but by the gracious force of the Devil himself, Kylo has been painfully and dim-wittingly, stabbed with a painful arrow which has been laced by her compelling.

It wasn't easy to kill the man who owned the apartment across from her's, with the wide windows that peered into the lookout of her own studio – he was broad and strong, but like always, Kylo was stronger, though most importantly, he needed to win the fight they endured more. He had the motivation.

But now that the man lays dead on the floor, the blood of his, spurting out of the gape in his heart and seeping between the crooks and cracks of his hardwood floors as Kylo sits on a chair he had moved in-front of the window, with a warm cup of bitter coffee in his left hand.

He had been met with disappointment until the curtains were drawn open and the lamp in her studio trickled through the rectangular window, only an hour ago.

Only a sliver of the room was on show for Kylo to see, but when she stood in the dead centre of his capturing, he leaned in further from his chair and placed a palm against the glass of his own window, as her milky light upon her canvas bled into the darkness of the night.

It didn't take long until she began to carefully swipe red paint onto the bleak and white sheet, and it took even less time for Kylo to realise that she was painting the sketch which he had picked up from her feet, yesterday.

From across the street, Kylo was left to sit in peace with silent reverie as he adored her from afar. Nothing disturbed the way she flicked her bristles in the most sensual way as the sneers of his darkness began to sit upon his shoulders when she began to mouth the words to whatever song was playing from her speaker which sat on the edge of her easel.

He wanted nothing more than to be in there with her, right this moment – to feel her breathing ghost upon his face the way it did when she gasped at his handsome smirk at her college – but he keeps silencing the battle cry in the back of his mind, promising that he will fuel the hunger once more and feed upon her innocence. He just needs more time. Kylo wants to prolong the hunt before the killing.

He had never been this absorbed into the lives of his victims before, but she was so obviously, different already, she wasn't like her best-friend, Alaska – she was real, she was kind and sweet. She didn't deserve to die, she deserved to be loved and Kylo Ren was going to make it his duty to ensure that she at least, gets both.

Love. He mouths the word for the thousandth time, it seems, into the void of the room he sat in. The word feels heavy on his tongue, tangy on his lips as if the word is dipped in poison or the kryptonite to his misanthrope of a soul.

Kylo Ren had always thought that love was something forbidden to him, but just like a forbidden fruit, the sweetness in one bite was too delicious to not swallow – and he wanted to devour her whole.

Lady Killer | Kylo RenWhere stories live. Discover now