Dangerous Affection | Kylo Ren

𝐕𝐈𝐈 Hush Money

You examine the interior of Poe's office objectivelessly, plucking at your freshly manicured nails. Organa had concocted a plan she wanted to present to you regarding tonight's infiltration on Ren and his crew.

The three men your accompanied by—Finn, Poe and Jasek— all marinate in voiceless silence, glancing around avoidantly. The mirrored discomfort mounts as Organa's noticeable absence lengthens. She was meant to arrive hours ago.

She seems to be under the impression that you have free-time to kill languishing around for her to eventually show up, which would peeve you if displayed by anybody else. Who wasn't the boss.

Poe was his typical alternative self, all stoic and earnest. Fingers interlocked, features taut with disciplinary malice. The other two men were palpably unsettled by both the aura he emanated, and the lack of Organa's presence.

Bewilderingly enough, you've never personally met Organa. All you had to go off of were the speculations crafted by others, and Poe's cautionary tales. She was claimed to be a bearer of cruel, ancient contempt, puppeteered by a grotesque captivation with vengeance.

But now, with the nimble, frail woman lingering at the threshold of Poe's office— her rueful, heartfelt smile made any potential unease on your part dissipate, evaporating alongside the cloud of tension blooming through the air.

"Good morning," she comments bluntly, a warm, charitable grin plastered to her lips. Her honey-hazel eyes glisten with hospitality, raking each of you in with a meaningful, cursory care that made you subconsciously straighten.

She breezes into the confined space with an air of deliberate measure, smiling genially. She circulates around the desk you were all splayed before, firmly lowering herself into the chair adjacent to Poe's.

Her hair is a bleak, sandy brown, glimmering with a moonlight-silver undercurrent that gently announces her age. She adorns it, pinned up in an elaborate braid that envelops the crown of her head. Fair wrinkles encompass her pale mouth, venturing in contoured canyons around her eyes.

"Good morning." You all retort blandly back, enthusiasts at your best.

She neatly folds her hands in her lap, amiable gaze settled on you. She eyes you up and down inquisitively, without judgement, and you mimic the gesture, consuming the sight of her heedlessly.

She drawls your name meticulously, and you strain a grudging smile in response, nodding acutely.

"It's lovely to finally meet my arguably most talented..." she trails emphatically through a chuckle, extending a gracious hand to you, patting it on the desk. "Poe has told me so much about you."

Your heart constricts hazardously, as you dart an apprehensive, bitter look at Poe. "Has he now? Good things, I hope."

She laughs outright then, her irises sparkling with amusement as she eases her hand back into her lap. "Of course," she replies curtly.

"I'm delighted to meet you myself," you chirp fondly, fidgeting absently with the scab forming over your earlobe. "This is an incredible opportunity. I'm glad I get to hear the plan from you myself, Mrs. Organa."

She dismisses the formality with an idle wave, "Please. Call me Leia." She nudges Poe lightheartedly, "I do wish we were meeting under better circumstances, though. And not something so consequential."

Jasek murmurs incoherently in agreement, exchanging a concurring look with Finn. Poe shifts tumultuously in his chair, nervously pawing the loose curls out of his face. You can't get an accurate read on him when he illustrates his industrious, no-playtime mask and sports it credibly.