The Dark Prince (Kylo Ren X Reader)

It's Just A Name

Kylo's quarters were pretty much just how you'd expected them to be. Perfectly clean--almost like no one had ever touched anything in the rooms. There was no dust. No clutter. Nothing was out of place. It was like a museum, and everything looked just as expensive as the palace itself. Walking into them made you feel like if you took the slightest misstep, the whole thing would crash down around you like thin glass. 

Kylo walked ahead of you, leading you down a window-lined hallway as the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountaintops, the morning light pouring in and warming your chilled skin. A tall door stood in front of you at the end of the corridor, Kylo reaching for its handle and stepping inside. You followed, the frame high above your head, making your way into a large square room, the darkness of it immediately consuming you. It was a stank contrast to the passageway you'd just been in, the windows covered in think curtains, drowning the room in a shadowy gloom. A giant bed laid before you, covered in black sheets and pillows, the symbol of the First Order once more imprinting into your memory as it lined the edge of the fabric. 

You could see the door to what was probably a bathroom and closet, and looming bookcases lining the walls. You shook your head in disbelief as you stared at them--there must have been at least a few hundred titles, tucked tightly into the shelves. 

"So you like to read?" You asked, turning to him as he flopped down onto his mattress. He nodded, chuckling. "I hate reading."

"I'm dyslexic, actually." He chuckled, "So I've always had to try twice as hard--you know, when I have to give speeches or anything. All the reading helps me practice."

"Ah," You nodded, running a finger over the spine of a blue-sleeved book, the title swimming through your mind. 

The Mystery Of Love. Printed in curly, silver font. You stared at it, intrigued. You pulled it out, running your hand down the cover before flipping it open, your eyes scanning quickly over the first page. 

What is love? It read, the font shaped in perfect cursive. And how do you know when it's really love, and not just lust any longer? I often find myself confusing love for lust, no matter how many times I try to separate the two. You see, lust is an expression that I often replace with the word: infatuation. To be infatuated with someone is not to be in love. Sometimes that's difficult to come to terms with , but it doesn't make it any less true. When I know that I'm truly in love with someone is when I think about whether my life would crumble without them. If I didn't have that person, would I no longer be able to function as I normally would? If you could, then it's not love. Maybe some would call that being co-dependent, and I'm not fully disagreeing with them. But if you're truly in love with someone, or at least have true love for them, doesn't it make sense that you wouldn't be able to live without them? Or at least it would be the most painful thing you'd have to do--to go on without them in your life. I suppose it's different for everyone really, but I know that I knew I'd found the one when I couldn't even bring myself to imagine a reality without them. That was my true love. Which offers up my next question--one that I'm not sure can ever really be answered. What is true love?

You traced your fingertips along the paper, pausing on the last sentence. What was true love? You mulled it over, staring at the font as you considered it. You'd thought you'd found it in Alex--true love. But clearly, that wasn't the case. So how could you even begin to answer the question if you'd never really felt it? You snapped the book shut, sighing as you returned it to the shelf, tucking it tightly between more titles. But just as you were about to turn back around, Kylo was already behind you, his hand moving to your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," He mumbled as you turned towards him, "I have to go talk to my father for just a minute. Are you okay waiting here? I'll be right back."