// (I wrote these at midnight so sorry if they dont make sense and/or are really depressing) Both of these are sooo short! Im kind of recovering from a short case of writer's block; I blame my English and health teachers for making me stress out about my projects. I know I was supposed to be writing the next one shot on the list but I got inspiration for this while listening to "You dont know me" and "Flickers" by Son Lux. I knew that if I didn't write it immediately, I would never end up writing it. //
I stood among the wreckage that was once me and Kylo's room. He stood in front of me, his lightsaber lit and his chest heaving. Fear was what held me in place, not Kylo, not the force. He scared me; He knew that. That didn't stop him from tearing out room apart in pure anger.
He turned away from me, and began slashing away at the desk, papers and all. What happened, I knew not. All I knew was that something horrible must have happened. I willed myself to move away, my back pressed against the wall. It looked like something out of my nightmares, something so familiar.
He suddenly came lumbering towards me, and I feared for my life. He was a foot away from me, his lightsaber still burning a sickening red. I managed to let out a whisper, a plea if you will. "Kylo, calm down. This isn't you." I cringed as my voice cracked, cursing myself for being so easily frightened. I could see a flicker in his deep brown eyes, whether it was anger or pity, I couldn't tell.
"You don't know me." He lifted the red lightsaber and I closed my eyes tightly, ready for my fate. But it didn't come.
The buzz of his lightsaber distinguished and I opened my eyes to see Kylo on his knees. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I had no idea how I was supposed to try and comfort him; I didn't know what was going on. "Leave. Before I hurt you." His voice was no longer loud and wrathful, but soft and pained.
I slowly move towards him, sitting next to him. I hugged my knees to my chest as we both sat in silence. Finally, I spoke. "You don't really know me either, I guess." It was more of a mumbled, and I almost hoped that he didn't hear me.
He snorted, "Maybe, but you aren't as fucked as I am." He turned his head to look at me, and I saw that he had been crying.
"You don't even know. I'm pretty fucked up too." He wiped the tears off of his face with the back of his hand. "We are both fuck ups. But we can be fuck ups together." I scooted towards him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.
He leaned against me, resting his head on my shoulder. "I suppose so."