SEVEN

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The drive is, as expected, treacherous, and the orchestra of strings currently strumming through the speakers, doesn't help the ever-present and scorching, rage which is sharpening all of his defences and attacks. His fists are clenched tight, his menacing soul is smirking in the shadowy murk of his sinister intentions.

He's struck with a criminal streak, one that has never been stopped nor has he ever been sprung with surprise – he never does this, he plans ahead and he maps his killings to the finest of details, but with just the glance of Matty Declan's hand reaching for her lower back, Kylo Ren had already combusted with the growl of a hunt, ready to pursue without tracking, ready to pounce with claws sharp and motivation, haunting.

It's a hot and long drive in the back of the taxi and the driver glances in the mirror at Kylo's dangerous eyes and scowl with timid weary behind the sheer thin glass between him and the monster in his backseat – who still pays him fairly for his service, before sauntering out of the cab and sprinting to her apartment, with her purse still wrapped around his white knuckles.

Kylo Ren isn't even dressed for the occasion and his tools are out of his hands, but he will make it work as he tears her kitchen drawer open and pulls out the sharpest knife of the bunch, watching the way his morality disappears with one glance in the reflection of the sharp silver.

He's in his usual slacks and his shirt sleeves are rolled up, the image of a relaxing Friday night gone in only the blink of an eye – he hides in the shadows of her apartments, he loiters and awaits her arrival with such a pathetic creature to demise her beauty.

With a heart slowly and painfully shattering, even a thin layer of tears rose above the horrific gleam in the browns of his eyes – the black of his pupils dilated with a gnawing starvation for his next meal, which she was unknowingly, bringing to him on a silver plate.

He's unimpressed. He's jealous. Suddenly his mind is rewinding back to the time he wanted nothing more than to slit the throat of his childhood friend's brand new dog, which barked all night and escaped from their white-picket-fence home, from habit of being in a shelter for the first three years of it's life – and the day that Kylo Ren had finally plucked the courage to ask to come over for the third day in a row that week, fully intending to put the dog out of its misery, ultimately it was the school bus which had hit the dog on the way home and done what he couldn't.

He was lucky that she always had a habit of taking the train instead of taking the safer options of life, for he had a total of fifteen minutes ahead of her arrival. He screeched in her living room to let off some steam, flinging all the decorations off the surface of her vanity and onto the tiles in her bathroom and punching his fists through the walls.

White knuckles, now covered in blood – he didn't lick off the crimson, for he was savouring the parching of his tongue for his next meal. Kylo once again, allowed the darkness to swallow him whole, although it was the ruthlessness and sociopathic traits which flowed through his veins, calming him in the midst of an almighty clash ahead.

He loved her, more than anyone could ever love – initially, he tried to purge himself out of this inappropriate longing, sternly reminding himself of what he truely is and what the indulging of his heart, craves... and although, her light was slowly cradling him, he knew that he would now, forever do anything in his power to keep her.

Which means, eliminating the competition.

There is no anger in his heart for her – she was just hurt and trying to make him jealous, for she loved him too, that had to be it, right?

For all his beloved's stubbornness and youthful pride, she was inherently breakable but Kylo's here to pick her up and tenderly, put her back together – he will always be there to shield the forgiving light in her lovely eyes, forever growing stronger in the scent of her enticing.

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