Dangerous Affection | Kylo Ren

𝐗𝐈 Pain & Pleasure

Vulnerability blossoms in his syrupy brown eyes, an unguarded but faint concern glistening there. He plucks and fiddles with the rigid scab that was coating your raw flesh, avoiding eye contact. He mutters curses to himself, the severity of your wound infuriating him.

When he scolds you for tensing at his calloused touch, you take a deep breath, disengaging yourself from the notion that you were currently losing blood.

Cardo, Ap'lek and Trudgen were all perched on a titanium bench across the room— slouched slothfully, nestling into each other, coated in dry patches of blood— the other men had fled the base upon arrival, due to Kylo's hostile demands.

He had deployed them to investigate tonight's blood bath; to scout the area and be sure the Resistance hadn't sent someone else to finish the job. Finn didn't act on his own; there was a mastermind that deliberated this failed attempt at your life.

And you were dreading unveiling who it could've been.

"You keep tensing." Kylo growls under his breath, prodding your wound for emphasis.

The pain elicits a squeak from your throat, "It hurts." You mumble pointedly, glaring back. "You're fingering my bullet hole."

"Getting shot tends to be painful," he deadpans sarcastically, prying the gash with a metal tool, mining for any fragments of the bullet that could've potentially broken off inside of you.

"You could've just left me to bleed out, you know." You intone suggestively, hissing a pain-piqued breath, grappling at the counter in search of purchase, as he tests the wound.

"No." He demands, eyeing you incredulously, as if affronted by your joke. Halting the motion of the tools. "You're with me now. This will never happen again."

Thick, unnerving silence.

"Do you think..." your soft voice nearly wavered as you stifled a moan from the discomfort.

"Think what?" He asks, glancing at you before averting his concentration back to his unmethodical work.

You chew your bottom lip apprehensively. "Do you think Dameron had anything to do with this?" Your stomach churns at the mere thought. Turmoil bombards your senses as Kylo inhales sharply, his broad chest expanding.

"Dameron?" He cocks a brow, fumbling for a roll of medical tape at his side, as you nod remorsefully in confirmation. "Yes. Without a doubt." He pauses, catching the glint in your eye, and comments steadily, "Do you?"

You gulp, blinking away the tears prickling at your eyelids. "I don't know," you admit solemnly, voice hoarse from the screams you'd unleashed, shaking your head in dismay. "I just... he's like a father to me. You don't understand."

He unwraps a thick strand of the medical tape, securing it around the plush layer of gauze cushioned around your wound. "I do," he states vaguely, shrugging at your curious, inquesting gaze. "My boss. He took me in."

You don't respond, eyeing him carefully, reluctant to speak. Knowing that one wrong flicker of one wrong emotion could make him revert to his withdrawn self, keep his personal information close to his chest. You don't want to back track.

"And I would expect him to do something like this to me, as a test of sorts." He declares calmly. "But I wouldn't expect that from the Resistance, I know them. This was a genuine attempt at taking your life."