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Kylo Ren can picture it perfectly now. With her gorgeous arms outstretched and roughly bound by coarse ropes as her pretty, little mouth stays quiet, not uttering even a single sound of discomfort from behind the thick tape stuck around her jaw.

He would paint just like she did, only his canvas was her laid bare and his brush was the tip of his sharp dagger. He would taste the blood upon her lips, he would mould her body into greatness before slicing it apart.

Granted, it's an enthralling and ideal daze, his darkness is the poet and her death would be the cursed confetti of a torn up page. Kylo Ren is utterly conflicted, jagged to shreds like the malice within's vision for her completion.

He has to kill her and he most definitely will, but as he watches her standing in her tight outfit in the lighting of her studio, he resides on the edge of tipping over to keep her alive, for he knows that once his hunger is satisfied, he will only feel the dreaded, crumpling of his doomed, paper heart.

Would he dare to tear apart such a treasure in the quest to fulfil the void in his darkness?

Her tired feet must feel worse than they ever have felt, shoved tightly into those high heels of her's as she rummages around her studio, cleaning up the space and spreading out the tarp across her floors, as if she is using it to hide the paint stains upon her hardwood floors – Kylo Ren couldn't help the giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach, was she cleaning her space for company? Was he really going to be invited into her home tonight?

She had gotten dressed to the nines, an hour before she was even supposed to leave for the train-station, Kylo wished that she would catch a cab though – did she not recognise that there were dangerous psychopaths who linger around the edge of the city on nights like this, waiting for a perfect prize of a woman to pass?

He supposed that she was blinded to an obsolete obliviousness by her own innocence, but he didn't panic, he would be there to protect her from any harm, unless it was his own brutality. 

Lingering in the shadows as she walks to the train-station beneath the city lights, Kylo Ren keeps his head low as a lion would before pouncing onto their prey, but he wasn't on a hunt just yet, he was merely just... watching her, savouring her unrefined charm before he bores that shine of her's into a darkness much like his own.

But there is that tug inside of him again, as if his heart strings are being pulled to her light – would he be able to cope with the melancholy satisfaction of hunting other females, after he had killed her? Or would everything taste bland and as grey as the guilt residue of eliminating the thrill of watching her walk around his world?

How had she and all of her unheeding, found the vein of gloom in him and unexpectedly, pulled the coldness into her warmth? Don't get him wrong, Kylo still felt the gnawing hunger of his, growling to sink his teeth into her unexpected frame, which shined shadows onto his following as her heels clicked on the sidewalks, but was the lust and devotion, finally overcasting his flame of violence?

Killing her would be easy, child's play almost – she was pathetically graceful with her unknowing, never turning back to see who was mimicking her every move and never second-guessing coincidences for blatant stalking. She was perfect to keep as well, a picture-perfect doll who he could keep hidden behind a shard of glass so no danger can ever crack her porcelain – but Kylo didn't hold hostages, he murdered.

A cat screeches in the alley behind him, splintering his elaborate fantasy into dust as her head moves towards the sound with wide eyes, but he is quick to cast himself into the shadows where she cannot see him. There's a temptation to just finish her now, he didn't have any of his tools but he had his bare hands and a brutal amount of strength to overthrow her, but as if he had hit a satisfactory conclusion, Kylo decided that he would indulge in the quiet of the night and watch the way she could come undone at the party, before he tore the life out of her soul.

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