The Devil's Touch | Kylo Ren

TWENTY-ONE

She was still as beautiful as ever, even if she wasn't wearing particularly fitting clothes. Her name which only he had given to her, was an epiphany of summer breezes and petalled kisses of rose, while her face was capturing yet without a hallucinative trance. Finding her all kitted up in drapes of holy, in a dull place such as White-Ivy, brought Kylo confusion which her lack of enlightenment could not cure – but seeing her in the uniform of an inmate, was the craziest thing he had ever witnessed.

That's it, he truely must be crazy. What if everything he had always known, was something that he had conjured up from the dark trenches that were dug up in the roots of his wild and insane imagination? That's an unnerving idea, though it doesn't surprise, nor frighten him. Perhaps, even Eve herself isn't real either, for this sight of her usual beauty, but mixed with the coldness of her stare, cannot be explained.

It didn't help that the music playing on the record player kept skipping and reversing, sounding as twisted as the incoherent mumbling coming from the woman in the furthest corner of the room, who scrapes her nails down the whites of the walls. He watches the way Eve's eyes snap over to her, and he wonders if she's doing the same thing in which he had, the first day he arrived to White-Ivy – looked around at all the lost faces, and refused to believe that she too, is missing a puzzle-piece of her brain.

But she wasn't. Even Kylo Ren knew this. His Eve was completely sane, though he'd fight that he was wired more correctly. She didn't belong here, just as he didn't... that's why he tried to take her away when they had the chance to. Even if this is just some sick form of punishment, and Eve will soon be summoned back to her real dormitory after dinner to put back on her drapes of worship, Kylo Ren still knew that she had to leave before this damned place makes her crazy.

She moves her eyes back upon him – but they look different, he suddenly realises. They look like the ghost of what they once were. His guts twist, and so does his fingers into the palms of his hands.

Eve continues, ignoring the whites of his knuckles, and motioning back to the chessboard, "– Eight more minutes before dinner's over, and I'd really like to get back to my game."

The walls are crashing in on him, and so does the heavens it seems – for he can even hear the snickers of the angels as they laugh at his ultimate defeat. The night has now become a void for his curse of devotion to flee into the murk, to try and find the real spirited Eve in which is no longer intertwined around the bones of the girl before him.

Moon perched high and the sun forbidden from the black canvass above, the night is brooding and draining all life and colour from the land, and even Kylo notices that the minor glimmer in her eyes, no longer bubbles the hue of her eyes like the surface of a glass of champagne.

She's tired. He can see it. She can most definitely feel it – the torture became too much. Though, maybe it wasn't her choice to pull so defiantly away from his shadowed love.

Shaking his head at his own thoughts which are already bleeding into the overreacting themes of nightmares, Kylo Ren tenses his jaw and tries to refocus, but all he seems to be sensing is the crank in his adrenaline, the stiffness in his tight muscles and the need to punch away all these tantalising feelings in him.

He glances at the hopeless game, and then to the hopeless player, "You're versing only yourself, Eve."

When he says her name again, with his voice of unfamiliar velvet, the tone seems to smack some colour back upon her chilled cheeks, waking her slightly up.

Eve peers up at the dark man, his face now sculptured by the lights above their heads, like a halo of only melancholy. She somehow presumed that they were two strangers, but it seemed in this very moment, she realised that he was contempt with being so close to one another, as he didn't even realise that he had taken an inch of a step inwards.