Cruel Destiny | Kylo Ren

The Spy

My heart pangs, though I don't dwell on the thought of Kylo Ren as my mind has already had him on an endless loop since he had kissed me last night, but when I notice Five slither a flat smirk through his crooked lips—eyes warm and charming—the guilt comes to haunt me again.

I know there's no possible way I could avoid Kylo Ren, even if my heart wasn't drawn to him in the first place... but for Five's life, unknowingly, it depends on me ignoring his request. Although, the guilt still cuts deep.

I smile back, not listening to Four ramble on-and-on about why it was Five's fault and not his, that his nose was now misshaped—and instead, notice the way Five and I's friendship feels like the soft colours of nature from the planet we both lived on: the delicate browns in his eyes being the autumn leaves and his chiseled features as strong as the brick building.

Five and I—and even Four—are not who we all once were... you could tell we were all different now and suddenly, I wish Five had been my real brother, for we wouldn't have to pretend I wasn't his weakness and he, mine.

"You're not wearing your headscarf."

As if the universe had momentarily halted, I realise now Five wasn't looking to me the way I was, but rather observing me with the gaze of a stranger, a judgement with no strings.

I furrow my eyebrows at his monotone words, but try to shake off any ill thoughts. He was just making an observation, a casual assessment. It doesn't mean he was about to write me up for an out-of-uniform, as if I was a servant of the First Order and he an officer.

Though, I suppose I am a servant... and he, much higher up than a lousy officer.

"Uh... yeah," I raise a hand to the top of my head, as if shocked to find the lack of material, "I think my hair looks nicer without it..."

Not me. Kylo Ren.

Shut up, I curse to my own betraying mind.

Four stops talking—finally looking to my hair and shrugging. "I suppose," He says, but Five doesn't brush it off so easily.

With a creased forehead and a tight jaw, I almost fear that he could read my mind and knows truely why I don't wear it anymore—but that was impossible, because he had never been able to read my mind, and I wasn't going to let that happen... not since Kylo had tore his way in.

Five's next words sound so heavy and quick that, to me, it seems unnatural, critical, "I thought you were not supposed to have your hair so... exposed."

He saw the shock register on my face before I could hide it, "Well, technically I wasn't allowed, but Commander September isn't here to boss me around anymore."
I try to force an awkward laugh, trying to ease the sudden tension, "—Are you here to ground me in her absence?"

The air is so brittle between his stare and mine, it could snap, and if it doesn't, I might. Why was Five suddenly caring about my uniform? About what I was supposed to be doing rather than what I wanted?

What happened to that boy who before StarKiller, would tell me that my purpose in the First Order, didn't define me as a person?

Many StormTroopers, servants and engineers begin to walk by, though none of them paid us any attention, much too busy on their own path to notice—or maybe it was due to the fact that Five and Four had lightsabers clinging to their belts so openly, which was enough reason to make a distance.

"Well..." Four breathes in a large breath, as if trying to remove the tension in the air, "I think that old rag was ugly anyway."

"Thank you, Four," I snap my gaze from Five and smile once more. I didn't need any more reasons to add to my endless list of worries.