Cruel Destiny | Kylo Ren

Half Gloved

Tearing my gaze away, I must focus only on the glove, not who it belonged to. Leather in my hand. Supple and old leather. Strong and substantial, like it's owner. Those hands were beautiful, precise, elegant–

Suddenly, the glove lifted quickly a few inches into the air and my eyes widen as it flies into my hand.

Leather in my hand!

The excitement bubbles in my chest and I break out into a big, wide smile as I look back up to Kylo who had the slightest curve at his mouth's corner and a satisfied confidence worn in a light raise of the eyebrow, above quizzical, joyful eyes.

"I did it!"

I don't know how I had though. My focus was completely off track. In my undeserving triumph, Kylo bit back the edge of a smile as if he had got a funny idea in his head, a vain attempt to keep his creeping grin at bay. The intention behind his perking lips wasn't something that could easily be ensured, but all at once I knew what he was laughing about.

"—You tricked me!" My jaw drops into a gleeful offence, throwing the glove to his chest.

When the leather hit his broad body, he merely shrugged, "You weren't focusing." He said.

I begin to feel my cheek being kissed with pink like a spring rose, the blooming colour so bright as I felt the flesh burn beneath it. I pray he couldn't read my thoughts clearly as they kept drifting back to him as if that was the post my ship had been anchored to.

I look away from him and find a distraction back through the wide window, trying to find anything to allow time to compose myself, but nothing could distract me as I fought back the smile that broke out.

"Well... like you said, there's too many distractions here," I stifle the giggle behind my words at sight of his mischievous grin, "I bet you, I would have done it in my first try if we were in the Training Centre!"

I lean in, my hands on my knees as I force a proud smile onto my face and straighten my shoulders through my lies. In all honesty, it wasn't anything here that could ever distract me, it was always him. Always, Kylo Ren.

He was in that state of intoxication when he couldn't find any release from the smirk his lips tugged into. He knew what he was doing, and he had moved the glove deliberately, as if it was as easy as wind in a storm.

"I know," He huffs a loud breath, pretending as if he believed my lies, "But the Training Centre is now in use, with the sudden arrival of your... friends."

At their mention, the anxiety stricken thoughts are akin to driving my mind mad and I become conscious of the wall clock that ticks like a timer on a bomb—it being a somewhat reminder of the countdown to Five's death if I don't do my duty. I can't stop it, reverse it or slow it down. Each tick drags me forward, helpless and nervous to the allotted time.

I can no more avoid it more than the beating of my own heart as it pounds with futility against it's cage of bone and cartilage. The dread is an invisible Supreme Leader sitting heavy on my shoulders and only I can hear the sharpening of his knives—but Kylo Ren always steadied me, unbeknownst to the timer as he was taking his time to treat me as delicately as a glass doll; and my heart is in no rush when it is in his hands.

Looking into his inviting eyes, I admit to myself that we may be fools for giving into each other so easily. He and I had built our shields high our whole life and I've had these very efficient defences up for so long, but now he hardly notices them. How rude. I guess they were meant to keep everyone out but it is as if I had given Kylo the key to the only door.

I could ask why this had happened so easily, so quickly, but what's the point? Kylo's here, his hands open and inviting rather than clenched into tight fists and I'm so glad—even if I'm sometimes hiding, imagining a distance instead of seeing him right there.