Kylo appeared in the doorway, looking disheveled. His hair was messy and stuck out in some places, and he wore only a sleeveless shirt and black pants. His eyes squinted a bit as he entered the light, and the thought crossed my mind that he might have been sleeping.
"Come in." His tired words only reinforced my theory.
I followed him through the doorway, still unable to see anything inside the room. He flicked on a light, illuminating a large bedroom. The bed was at least twice the size of mine, and its black sheets were strewn about. The walls were a soft gray color, standing in contrast to the black floor and furnishings.
Kylo turned to face me. His eyes flashed over the case in my hand, then returned to my face. He seemed to be waiting for me to speak.
"I wanted to thank you for the new armor." I was suddenly unable to meet his eyes. "It's—It's lovely."
"You don't like it." The slightest slump of his shoulders betrayed the disappointment that he fought so hard to keep off his face.
"I didn't say that," I protested.
"You didn't need to." He sat on the edge of his bed, running his hands over his face.
Guilt crept up my spine. "I don't want to sound ungrateful. It's just so much more than what I had expected. I was thinking you would add an extra black stripe around the arm or something—something that wouldn't be so—"
"Different?" He finished my sentence for me.
I sighed. "Yes."
He gazed at me. "I thought we had already established that it doesn't matter what the others think."
"It's harder to believe that than you'd think." I gave him a sad smile, absentmindedly fiddling with the handle on the case.
His eyes wandered down my hands, observing the nervous movement. A crease appeared between his eyebrows.
"What did you do to your hand?"
"I—Nothing." I said quickly, covering the bruised skin with my other hand.
"There's no point in lying to me." His voice was quiet.
I sighed, staring down at my knuckles. The skin was now blotchy, the scarlet cuts standing out against the purple bruises.
"I punched a wall." I admitted, my words blending together in the effort to get them out quickly.
Kylo let out a barking laugh. "What?"
My cheeks burned. "I punched a wall."
"Why?"
"I was angry."
Kylo was still smiling slightly. "At what?"
"The other troopers."
His smile disappeared. He was quiet for a moment. "And do you feel better now, having done that?"
I made a face. "Not really."
He sighed, shifting so he sat further back on the bed. "Come here."
I eyed him warily. "Why?"
He didn't respond, only stared at me with expectant eyes. After another hesitation, I grudgingly walked over to him. He took my injured hand in his, his touch surprisingly soft. I sat on the bed next to him as he raised his other hand, holding it an inch or so above mine. He frowned slightly as he focused on his work.
"I don't sense any broken bones." Kylo muttered.
As he spoke, a tingling sensation ran through my hand. I watched with wide eyes as the smallest cuts closed and the bruising consolidated into one area, rather than being spread along the entire surface of my hand.
"There." He said after a moment. I met his gaze, and he smiled softly at the awe that was clear across my features.
I pulled my hand from his and examined it closely. The pulsing feeling had faded, and only the worst cuts remained. It was incredible—so much healing had taken place in only a few heartbeats.
"Thank you." I stammered at last.
He shrugged, looking away. "I can do more later. It's just... tiring." He leaned back against his bed.
"No, this is great, thank you." I grinned, still amazed by my rapid repair.
We were quiet for a few moments. I sat cross-legged on his bed and he lay flat, saying nothing. I gazed at him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.
"Kylo?" I said, breaking the silence.
"Yes?" He replied sleepily.
"Can I have a name?" I felt childish as I asked.
"Sure." His eyes were closed now.
"Help me come up with one?" I lay down next to him, staring at the ceiling above us.
He exhaled slowly. "What did you have in mind?"
"Well, I think I want to keep the letters from my code, so something with CL. But I've been thinking and thinking, and I haven't been able to come up with anything."
Kylo was quiet for a long time, and I began to wonder if he had fallen asleep.
"Calia." He murmured at last. "I used to know someone named Calia."
I mouthed the name soundlessly, liking the way it felt on my lips. "Calia." I nodded, more to myself than to him. "I like it. But I think I'll go by Cal, for short. It's easier."
"Cal." I could tell he was half-asleep by the way the word left his mouth.
I watched him for a moment, wondering how someone so sleepy and innocent could possibly be a fearsome murderer. After a moment, I leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. He didn't react, and I was somewhat glad—I wasn't entirely sure what had fueled my action, and I certainly didn't want to discuss it. Quietly, I slipped off the bed and made my way to the door, picking up the armor case on the way.
"Cal," His quiet voice made me stop just short of leaving, shivers running down my spine at the sound of my new name. "You should come by again tomorrow...so I can work on your hand some more."
"Okay." I whispered, smiling softly, and slipped out the door, making sure it closed behind me as I left.