Love On The Brain - Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Reader

Crash and Burn

Vines sway from the canopy above, a torrent of beams worm past the cracks between intertwined leaves. Disorientated, you grasp at the bushes cradling your head with bloodied fingers. Croaky pants dissipate into the breeze as you hoist yourself onto your elbows, complexion going pallid at the remnants of a pool of crimson drenching your torso.

You curse at your first attempt to stagger onto your feet, your body opting for slinking over a thick fallen branch to support your backside as you slide back onto the ground with seething teeth. Feebly shrugging off your hefty jacket, you draw shallow breaths; tuning your ears to the melodic chirping of sparrows before catching a pattern of steps a lengths away.

Cringing at the hoarseness of your voice, you settle for stumping your legs into cocoa dirt to direct attention to you, barely avoiding the particles that spew up from the collisions

A beacon of sharp sapphire whizzes as the footsteps inches closer, the foliage gives way to a figure wrapped in a glaring silver haze, topped with a mop of coal. Your vision blurs at the sight, the numbing pain leaves your nerves in a constant state of panic, inducing fatigue.

--

Trinkets chime against the simmering gusts, carried by turbulent waves clambering onto the shore. The scent of potent spices float in a cloud of slithering steam emanating from a hastily crafted wooden bowl with remnants of splinters still poking from each odd crevice. You latch onto the sensation of each rise and fall of your chest, how your breaths spiral and mingle with the surrounding environment and the array of creatures that inhabit it. 

 A benign palm reposes on your forearm, flitting between tracing your veins and checking your pulse. You shudder at the touch, eyebrows knitted together in concentration to allow the intrusive light into your lids. Your searing gaze shifts to the tight bandages encompassing your frame and gasp at the velvet hue dampening the center. The hand withdraws with an audible intake of breath. A teenage boy stumbles out of his stool, retreating out of your proximity; his chin length inky locks shrouds his rosy cheeks and frames his troubled expression. 

Your gaze wanders in search of that warm touch that once cradled your knuckles, only to once again find a wary set of umber orbs intently observing your actions. 

"How did you find us?" He whispers, words merely spilling from his lips like a soft blow on a chilly silent night. You struggle to find words as you rack your brain for an answer-anything at all. There's just a blood curdling emptiness, no figments of memory, just a stiff blank canvas.

At your prolonged silence, his gaze hardens, voice frigid and alarmed as he presses for a response. 

"How?" 

His fingers graze over the activation plate of a metallic device while his agitated orbs pose another question. Each syllable echos between the walls of your mind without him physically directing his voice, occupying your thoughts in its entirety as you grasp onto the crown of your head.

Who are you?