We're meditating.
It's twilight in the meadow. There is a calmness.
We are laying on the ground, on our backs, facing the galaxy. His head is right next to mine, although our bodies are pointed in opposite directions. If I turn my head to the right I can see the upside down silhouette of his face a few inches from mine.
But I don't turn. I lay perfectly still.
Three moons of varying sizes hang overhead. There are no clouds in the sky, only the paint splattering of millions of stars. It isn't the cold season yet, but there's a slight chill in the air. It feels refreshing. After hours of trying to block Kylo Ren from my mind, I have worked my body into a slight sweat. The breeze slowly rolls across my damp skin.
He said I did well. Praised me for picking up on the game so quickly.
"In your mind - build a safe, or something similar. A way to lock up secrets. Or a wall to block off your whole mind. Make it impervious."
He let me into his own mind just once.
It was to demonstrate the technique. He chose a recent memory- when he smirked at me from across the table. He showed that memory being boxed in with plates of thick durasteel. Screws tightened along all the seams to make it airtight. And no matter how I tried, I couldn't break in.
"And now that memory is only for me," he said, pushing me out of his psyche and back to reality. Before I had time to respond to this statement, it was my turn. He allowed me to take my time - to pick a memory and make a plan.
I felt him enter my mind, watching me work.
I found the memory I wanted to lock away. Kylo Ren in the woods, with the smallest wisp of purple incense wrapping around him.
He did not acknowledge the memory I chose, just as I did not question his.
At first I tried to box it up as he had, with cold metal. But no matter how my mind built the safe, he easily found his way in. I was frustrated, but not flustered. It was challenging - I had never met another Force user so I had never once tried to block anyone else from my thoughts. Hadn't even thought about it.
I slowed my breathing, made my heartbeat fall in sync. I grounded myself with the vegetation under my fingertips. I imagined vines and roots. Thick tangles of complicated root systems. They wrapped around the memory gently but securely, and then vines encircled every square inch and made it airtight.
The more times we practiced, the faster I could do it. It became easier to protect memories and thoughts from him, and he actually had to put in some effort to make it through the tangles. He did eventually, every time, but I expected nothing less.
"Impressive for a first lesson. Now rest. Meditate. Think on what you've learned."
And so here we are, some time later, both content in our own silences.
I think on what I have learned.
I etch the new skills onto the inner folds of my brain.
My thoughts become a slow steady stream of consciousness, flowing through my mind like a gentle current. I don't linger on any one particular thought for too long, I let it continue downstream, leaving space for the next thought to float by.
I hear a quiet symphony of crickets and owls.
Downstream.
The sweat droplets on my skin feel cool in the mountain breeze.
Downstream.
I'm glad I wrapped myself in a cozy sweater before our night hike.
Downstream.
I'm pleased that I have acquired a new trick today, I feel even more powerful in this moment.
Downstream.
So far, Kylo Ren has held up his end of the bargain.
Downstream.
When will The First Order cash in on my powers?
What might that look like?
Downstream.
What might Snoke have in store for me?
Downstream, with a slightly faster current.
I inhale. I exhale. I take back control. I slow the flow back to a lazy pace and focus my mind on the present day positives instead of the negatives that may or may not come to pass.
"Good," murmurs the baritone in my head.
Except, no wait, I didn't hear that mentally. He spoke out loud. It sounded like sweet nothings in my ear because this time he actually is right next to my ear.
His voice is crushed velvet.
Downstream.
He smells of musk and mint.
Downstream.
A memory of mint dances on my tongue.
Downstream.
His body next to mine radiates heat.
Downstream.
I hear the slow breaths moving his chest up and down as he meditates.
Downstream.
I think of the muscles that support my body and my breaths; I think of his muscles.
Downstream.
Hazel eyes, thick lashes.
Downstream.
Leather gloves.
Downstream.
Strong hands.
Downstream.
Bright red smoke. Lust.
It does not move downstream.
It lingers just above the surface of the now still water. It hovers thick in the air like early morning fog. I let the thought stay. Immerse myself in the bright red haze.
I know that he can see my thoughts clearly, I have none of my new defenses up in this moment. I do not feel shame knowing that he can sense my lust. Desire and passion are not shameful. I am confident in my sexuality. My powers are strengthened by nature, and what is more natural than sex? I feel most powerful during the throes of fucking.
Of all the different lovers I have claimed, I have obviously never been with a Force user before. My mind wonders how much power I could draw from sex with Kylo Ren. Blood moves faster through my veins. Warmth pools between my thighs. I make no moves to act on these thoughts, I let the smoke swirl through my mind.
"It cannot happen," he speaks aloud.
I open my eyes slowly as I bring myself back to reality. At first all I see is red, but it slowly recedes until there is only twilight. I realize that he's no longer laying on the ground by my head. He's propped up on one elbow, looking down at me. Examining me.
His face, expressionless. His mind, closed off.
I have read that the Jedi practiced celibacy. A ridiculous tradition if you ask me. But they drew their power from only the Light Side. And the power I feel when I make someone cum, controlling their bundled nerves and rapid synapses, is definitely not the Light Side. So it intrigues me that this dark man hasn't considered acting on the obvious electricity between us.
For he is no Jedi.
"Of course I've considered it. Look at you," he drawls in my mind. I see his intense eyes scan my form.
I do not blush, I do not feel bashful.
I watch him watch me.
I'm still laying on my back, cushioned by the soft meadow grass. My loose hair falls around me like a crown. I am lit only by the gleaming moons. My palms are flat on the ground at my sides, fingers absentmindedly running through the flora. The thin layers of my gray robes drape across my body, my cardigan gently hugs my figure. I still have a sheen of sweat dusted across my skin. My bare feet are crossed at the ankle, small goosebumps dot my exposed legs.
I can't read his emotions. I can't read his mind.
But I am fluent in body language.
I've studied so many different bodies. Women, men, non binary. They all appeal to me, for their own individual reasons. I love discovering curves. Sharp angles. Secret freckles. Peaks and valleys. I watch how they move, how they react, how they breathe, how their muscles contract. I've become a master in this second language. And I can always tell when someone craves me as I crave them.
I can see that, despite his words, Kylo Ren wants me.
He looks down at me with predatory eyes.
But I am no prey.
He'll learn.