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Silence has its own echo, one too strange to ignore as she furrows her brows and turns back to check what had caused the scuffling sound which she swore that she heard on this quiet morning, but ultimately when she was only faced with her locked door and the empty hallway, she only sighed and reluctantly began her journey to campus.

He had hidden behind the corner of her complex's hallway, waiting for the right time when she would walk out of her apartment with her hands filled with canvasses and portfolios, her arms trembling beneath the weight as she tries to balance her morning coffee above it all.

And although, Kylo really wanted to reach out and become her saviour, he only did what he had come to do and just slipped right between the gap of her open door, which slowly creaked its way to close behind her as she sauntered her way down the hall.

When the door thuds behind him, he grins to himself as the sunlight bursts in through the windows of her apartment and casts upon the pale flesh of his face. Kylo's beloved, conquest had a home which resembled all the other women's homes who he had killed, in her age bracket – it was clean and polished, but there was a slight mess to it which Kylo could never figure out if it was on purpose or not.

She had many ornaments and decorations lining the surfaces and pinned to her white walls, succulents and greeneries were perched upon the windowsill in her kitchen, the window which never gave him a view quite like the one in her studio – where the bitter smell of paint and oil is ever-present in the cracks of her hardwood floors and the tarp beneath her easel resembles the one he kept in the trunk of his car. It was a sturdy sheet of plastic, flexible and viable – the perfect tarp for moving bodies, or for faint attempts at keeping your ruined floors from getting any worse.

Kylo Ren runs his long and trembling finger along the wood of her easel, which held the painting from days ago – she hadn't painted since then, Kylo wondered if it was because she was worried about Alaska, who she messaged everyday.

He chokes a little as he takes in the bounty of her artistry. Her mere sketch was nothing compared to the final product. It took his breath away, the ability she possesses to be able to make such a tangible etching of a figure and yet, it was all in different shades of red – crimson, cherry, ruby, rouge, scarlet, his favourite colour.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was the songbird's which followed her everywhere, who had whispered in her ear that it was his favourite shade, and as he walked out of the room, he thanked those little birds on her windowsill and promised them that he would return the favour, one day.

He would paint her red.

She was everything from his dreamscapes, that is the least he could give to her.

His cruel heart wants what it wants, Kylo has done and will continue to do, everything to make her his own personal sorcery. After all this time, he still can't figure out what she was unknowingly, doing to him but with the baring of more days tearing between them, he only continues to fall harder and more violently for her.

Knowing what he was capable of doing to and with her, frightens his darkness for with a burning and bright intensity, Kylo is determined to prolong his hunger until the right moment – he knows she's attracted to him, he sees it in the innocent way her lips twitch when he coincidentally, keeps crossing paths with her. It was fate, surely she would see that soon too, surely the least she could do was be his muse and allow him to truely see the way her heart would slowly beat a sorrowful tune in his hand.

Her bed is as plush as a wintry blanket of snow, which folds and sinks beneath him, although he can still smell the flowery scent beneath the cascade, the very rose of her shampoo. He smiles into her pillows and cocoons himself in her silky sheets as he recalls the natured spirit he captured in the gleam of her eyes, yesterday morning on her way home from campus.

Lady Killer | Kylo RenWhere stories live. Discover now