Dangerous Affection | Kylo Ren

𝐕𝐈 Unbelievably Murderous

A glint of canary streetlight floods the Cadillac, stark upon its pristine black interior. You watch the warm glow flicker over Finn's contemplative expression as he aimlessly surveys the cities full sprawl. The night half eclipses him in shadow, the other half glistening with a sheen of perspiration you knew slicked your own skin.

"You never really get used to its enormity," you supply airily, tucking a strand of heavily producted hair behind your designer-decaled ear.

"No, you don't," his molten-brown eyes rove you over as he shakes his head. He pauses considerably, before adding, "You ready for tonight?"

You exchange a look with Walter, your designated getaway driver, through the rearview mirror.

His gray eyes were ancient and stormy as he casted you a withering, elder glare. His face was weathered with grooves of walshed wrinkles, deepened by the gleam of brake-lights. Darkening the brutal scar canyoning over his thinning brow and winding to a clump of marred tissue at his temple. The red glow even did a fine job of illuminating the staggering dusting of freckles that formed a constellation upon his arched nose.

He'd known you longer than most had or even cared to. You knew the fierceness in his gaze was not of malevolence— it was an emblem of concern.

You narrow your eyes right back, clucking your tongue in admonishment. "You don't wanna start with me, Walt." You drawl, waving an idle hand of dismissal.

He bristles at the tone, but wisely reigns in his scolding, shifting uncomfortably.

"I'm fine," you inform Finn, touching a hand to his cream-chiffon clad arm in placation.

He was likely exceedingly more anxious than you were, considering this was his first tango where Ren was involved. Ren offered a rather enticing dance, yes, and there was still a lingering trepidation over him that you would never fully shake— but you were starting to  grow accustomed to his unpredictability.

Finn notes your soliciting stare and attempts a reassuring smile, adjusting the lapel of his luxurious suit. "How do I look?" He asks.

You grin, blatantly assessing him with an approving nod. "Classy. I'm loving the earrings," you gesture to your own ears, studying the intricate, stubby golden hoop careening from Finn's ear.

"You look beautiful, as well," he compliments, nodding to the silken, burgundy dress clinging to your generous figure.

Drumming your fingers into the windowsill, you nod gratefully, and that was that. Silence, other than the roar of the Cadillac as it swerved through traffic.

You still had an hour before the preview of The Temptest began, and you were already within exceptional reaches of the theater. You'd have time to ease yourself into character then, likely brew a polite discussion and blend yourself into the dignified crowd with a glass of glimmering champagne.

Although you preferred a Martini, there was a sophistication that wove with the elements of champagne, and you knew how to bend alcohol to your advantage.

You couldn't let tonight go wrong. Ren had slipped from your unyielding grasp thrice too many times now. You weren't willing to debilitate the improvements you've made with Poe, both professionally and companionship-wise, over the Padrone Della Morte.

You snort, biting your tongue to stifle the laughter threatening to bubble up at just the thought of his dooming entitlement. It's a tad bit dramatic.

"Miss," Walter says monotonously. "We'll arrive to the theater in a few more minutes... but it's not too late to turn around." He conveyed the words in a manor that exposed his underlying Italian accent.