helloeverybunny | OPEN POST • ALL-PURPOSE TEXTING MEME

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OPEN POST • ALL-PURPOSE TEXTING MEME

for your TFLNs, overflows and general texting shenanigans

He caught sight of the blush that stained her cheeks, but forced himself to look away from her too quickly. Told himself that didn't mean anything. It was possible she was simply embarassed, flustered and not knowing how to react. It would certainly explain the hesitation, the silence. Maybe she was trying to --

"What?" he asked, looking up only to see her look away from him. Show her? How could he -- his fingers shifted, and he knew what she was asking. But could he show her through the bond they shared? Could he show her more than just himself across great distance or the things the Force wanted her to see?

He hummed a flat noise, meant to acknowledge that he understood, and then took the first tentative step toward. It was slower and more deliberate than the second, but he approached her with all the care one might afford a wild animal in danger of charging.

"Alright. I'll show you," he said simply, and lifted one hand to touch her cheek, to gently mold his fingers to her jawline. "Try to clear your mind."

--

"Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader, is no more," his voice came into focus lazily, not quite distinct. When words at last came again, they were clearer. More focused and intelligible. "There's only Ben Solo, now."

"She will be," Jacen's voice came next, his relief as apparent as the overlarge grin on his face. "She never could refuse me. Besides, having you around means there's always someone who can babysit the princess."

But the image didn't linger on Jacen. The image turned to Rey, stepping forward and reaching out, and a large hand took hers. Ben's hand. And he could feel himself smiling. The voices continued. Jacen and Ben and Rey, discussing details that were fuzzy and indistinct, but the feeling of her hand in his remained clear. It was warm and comforting, a ray of light in the dark. The dark that closed around him as he stood outside the hangar, as he apologized. As his heart leapt into his throat when the door closed between them and her banged his fist against the doors. As he turned to march toward his death.

Ben must have been controlling this somehow, as none of the pain or the blood from his attack on Hux surfaced, and instead he was in the Senator's shuttle with her, his hand on her shoulder, her hand gripping his. Grieving the loss of what he hadn't even considered as he clung to her, before his ebbing life and need to say goodbye to his brother tugged him away.

He'd kissed her forehead then, or was it before? He'd wished that he could hold onto her. He'd wished he'd kissed her on the mouth. Just as he'd almost done in front of the Senate. He wondered what that would be like. He wondered --

--

He severed the connection more abruptly, eyes he hadn't realized had closed opening. But his hand was still there, against her cheek.

She couldn’t stop herself from tensing up when he put a hand to her cheek, her body somehow remembering an encounter long past, when she’d been strapped to a chair and he’d tried to pry Luke’s location from her head. But she exhaled, slowly, telling herself that it was okay.

She closed her eyes, clearing her mind, letting herself join the bond, falling into his memories. The first defection, it seemed, and she watched with rapt attention as the events of a time that didn’t exist for her unfurled.

Things started to move forward a little too fast, and she felt alarmed, as if she’d eventually be swept away by the current. Not entirely aware of what she was doing, she struggled to take hold of something, anything... and then, like someone had stopped a video that was being fast-forwarded, the world around her returned to normal.

—

It was dark, but only for a moment. In perfect, unplanned unison, two lightsabers ignited. Rey stared down at her hands, but she was holding a red blade—

No. She was Ben. She looked to the side and there was... well, her. She blinked, trying to regain her bearings, but then the memory moved forward, to the fight through the corridor, she and Ben moving with a strange synchronicity she’d not thought was possible.

She blinked again, and while she was still in the corridor, something had shifted. She was running; no, Ben was running. Up ahead, at the end of the corridor, Rey was on the floor and she was holding Jacen and... and...

She was reeling when she finally knelt by Jace’s side. “No,” escaped out of her. Him.

“Brother,” the younger Solo murmured weakly, his breathing shallow. It looked as though he’d been shot in close range.

And then she felt it. Overwhelming regret. Loss and grief and she was sure she’d choked on a sob—

Then she was in his arms. But he was slipping away. He kissed her on the forehead, and there was that wave of regret again, but also longing.

He wished he could hold onto her. He wished he'd kissed her on the mouth. Just as he'd almost done in front of the Senate. He wondered what that would be like. He wondered—

—

Rey’s eyes snapped open and she found herself staring up into Ben’s own. She was back in Hapes, in the garden, and so was he, and his hand was still on her cheek. It felt as though she couldn’t breathe.

He’d defected. He’d died, sacrificed his life. He’d grieved, felt loss. And he’d done it again in this... time. Perhaps he’d done even more. He’d given up his place in the First Order. He’d saved the Hapan royal family. He’d accepted a life of service and exile.

He, truly, had become a far cry from the creature she used to know as Kylo Ren.

“What do you want, Ben?” she asked in a whisper, although she didn’t know why she was asking him that, of all things. But she was still there, standing in front of him, not pulling away from his touch. Conflicted and weirded out, but still there.

Though he severed the link, the memories remained fresh in his mind. He could still feel the shape of her pressed against his chest after Jacen had died. He could still feel how small and warm she felt in his arms, he could still smell her hair. He could still feel the smoothness of her skin against his. And he still didn't know how to put voice to his considerations, how to tell her he wanted to stand at her side. How to tell her he wanted to hold her.

What do you want, Ben? she asked in a whisper, and his lips rubbed together as he pondered that statement. His dark eyes searched hers openly, even as he didn't quite know what he was looking for.

It was foolish of him to want anything, wasn't it? Even so, his fingers shifted against her jaw and he cursed the gloves he wore. He wanted to feel her skin beneath his fingers. He wanted to comb her hair off her neck. He wanted to pull her against him.

"You," he whispered back, his thumb straying feather-light across her cheek. Any words he meant to follow caught in his throat as he realized he'd spoken that one. His eyes flicked down, but he didn't move, didn't let go, didn't pull away.

"I want to kiss you."

Edited 2019-03-17 15:21 (UTC)

"W-What?"

She did not see that coming. Or did she? She'd felt it in his memories, didn't she? His longing, his desire for... something. Something that had to do with her. But still she found herself trying to grasp the very idea that he wanted anything to do with her -- this man who'd once been her enemy, someone she'd loathed with every fiber of her being, but who'd also at some point become her friend and ally, and had saved her life and many others.

She knew he was interested, she'd told Jacen that. He was always around when she came to visit Hapes, though that could be because he was the Princess' personal bodyguard and she was one of the Princess' tutors. And then Jace had said...

"What could you possibly--" She looked up at him, eyes wide and confused. But still she didn't pull away. "I'm just a nobody."

It made a certain amount of sense, and called to mind what he'd seen while interrogating her. Her crushing loneliness, the hollow space in her that had echoed his own heart, her desperate cling to those she met, even when they weren't worthy of her. Begrudgingly, he acknowledged his own bias in that judgment, but only so far as some of her companions were concerned.

"You're not --" he began hastily, but cut himself off. Though he hesitated, grimacing at how woefully inadequate the statement was, he only repeated it in the end. "You're not nobody."

Not to him. Not at all, in reality. What he'd said aboard the Supremacy had been cruel and subversive, meant to twist her feelings of inadequacy into a mirror of his own. Meant to bind her to his side. To control her.

Pushing out a breath, Ben gently nudged her chin up, coaxing her to look at him. A part of him clamored to let her go, to slip away, to stop apologizing for the things he'd done. A part of him felt weak. But a part of him ached for the hurt he'd caused her.

"You're Rey." He said simply, deliberately, emphatically. "A woman admired by the Resistance, cherished by its General, a friend to many and a symbol of hope to more." He shifted then, letting go of her jaw only to frame her face with both of his hands, to meet her gaze more directly.

"I wouldn't want you any other way."

It was too much, Rey thought. The compliments were making her face heat up, and though a part of her was glad for the appreciation, she, too, felt uncomfortable with the praise. Not that she thought he was only patronizing her, but simply because it had come from a man who had so much to his name and legacy. Who was she but an orphan scavenger from Jakku, who’d only become a Jedi because she happened to be in the right place at the right time? While he was the son of heroes, a prodigy in the Force, a man of true courage—

She pulled back suddenly, turning her face away. But not because he’d offended her, no.

How was it possible that these feelings had grown so quickly? Him she understood; he’d lived his life thrice, four times over, encountering her in every single one. But her? She’d gone planetside with Jacen to Mustafar thinking the worst of Kylo Ren, ready to fight him if the Force willed it so, and yet since that day...

But Kylo Ren wasn’t Ben Solo.

The man standing before her was.

“I... I don’t know what to say.” Because she didn’t. Should she thank him? Compliment him in the same manner, recount his deeds? Tell him what she thought of him? Say it was okay to kiss her? And then what?

She was not alone in her discomfort. True, no blush colored his cheeks, even as he watched the color creep across her face. Even as he stood there, so close he would only have to tip forward to cross that distance. So close he couldn't stop thinking about the possibility. It was what he was thinking about when Rey pulled back from him, turned her face away and broke contact with his hands.

He should have known better, he told himself as the fragile hope that had been building in him crumpled like a house of cards. His empty hands dropped to his sides and he rocked back on his heels, tearing his gaze away from her. Of course she would pull away.

Of course she would be disgusted. Of course she wanted nothing to do with him, beyond his usefulness. Swallowing hard, when Ben spoke again it was quieter, smaller, and carefully devoid of emotion.

"You don't need to say anything." Because she didn't. How could he expect her to reciprocate the feelings of a monster? Worse, a monster who had outlived even his limited uses.

"I won't bother you again," he said too quickly, taking a step back and pivoting sharply to walk away from her. The lion's share of his focus had already diverted to strangling his emotional response, on forcing down the reactionary beast that wanted nothing more than to take this rejection out on the garden they stood in. The urges that did nothing but prove to Ben that Rey had every reason to recoil from him.

“Wait,” Rey called out, and there was a hitch in her voice, forcing her to pause to swallow the lump in her throat. “Ben, wait.”

It wasn’t even his quiet, vacant tone that had struck her, though it made her abruptly look up, in time to see him turn on his heel and begin to walk away. It was his disappointment, and it had been so clear in the Force that it was almost as if she’d seen him physically deflate.

I won’t bother you again.

No, no. This wasn’t happening. She wasn’t going to let him leave thinking the worst of himself. She wasn’t going to undo what she and Jacen and the rest of his family had done, not after they’d come this far.

And he wasn’t walking out on her believing things she hadn’t said.

“I wasn’t finished.”

He had already taken several steps by the time she called out for him to wait. He took one more, as he considered continuing, walking away from her, walking away from everything until he was as alone as he could get on the royal premises. He couldn't have gone far, however, given that he was supposed to be safeguarding Allana. Given that when all was said and done he was restricted to this planet unless the Queen Mother was setting foot off of it.

That wasn't why he'd stopped, though. In the end, he couldn't deny her the opportunity to speak. That she wasn't finished rekindled no hope in him, nevertheless. Perhaps she meant to let him down easy. That would be like her, wouldn't it? Perhaps she would even reassure him that they could still be friends. A possibility which also inspired no hope or relief in him. Not in the present moment, at the very least.

Regardless, he stopped and turned to face her with squared shoulders and a posture as straight as the line of his mouth. It was the same impervious stance he'd taken -- or tried to take -- each time he stood before Master Snoke. It had been insufficient to ward off the worst outcomes then. It was no more effective now.

For a moment it had looked like Ben was going to be his insufferable self and really walk out on her that, fleetingly, Rey considered using the Force to hold him in place so she could make her point. But then he turned back to her, practically glowering, and that took her aback, for she was suddenly reminded of those conversations they’d had while she was on Ahch-to, how he’d stared her down with those angry, haunted, needy eyes.

She could only imagine the things he must be thinking about now, the conclusions he’d jumped into — because why else would he have said something as ridiculous as not bothering her anymore? She didn’t turn him down, did she?

But this was beginning to look familiar, at least. An angry, argumentative Ben was something she actually had some experience with.

“Why are you mad?”

"I'm not mad," he asserted with a modicum of incredulity. As preposterous as it was, he didn't recognize that his expression was anything other than neutral, perhaps guarded. As preposterous as it was, he thought he was sufficiently restraining his emotions so as to not let them spill out across their bond. Or maybe he just hoped he was. Either way, it was only a moment before his eyes turned away from her and he looked aimlessly off at the shrubbery around them.

"I'm not mad at you," he clarified, after a moment. He honestly couldn't say he wasn't mad at Jacen. He was. His meddlesome younger brother had dragged his feelings out into the open, after all. Rey was only acting in the way Ben had expected. Acting in the way he knew she would, that she had every right and reason to. It was why he had resolved never to let her know of his feelings for her in the first place.

It was why he idly debated whether he would truly regret strangling Jacen.

But his anger toward his brother was secondary. It was his own foolish, misguided heart he took umbrage with. A heart that dared to hope that there was anything more for him in this galaxy but serving his niece in exile. A heart he already knew to be weak and faltering. A heart he struggled to ignore more than anything, and one that had only seemed to steer him right on Mustafar.

The clarification deepened Rey’s frown. Was Ben mad at Jacen, for triggering this confrontation? Because this was beginning to feel like a confrontation, and she honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she suddenly found herself in a shouting match. Or worse, a lightsaber duel.

But, no. She wasn’t sure, but there was something else. Beyond his glowering and what he’d just said. Something that only stirred the conflicted feelings that frothed beneath the impassive exterior he tried so hard to project.

“Sure you’re not, you’re looking positively charming right now.” Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have allowed herself to be baited into saying something like that, but the words were out of her before she could think to stop herself.

Then, she sighed. “Ben, look at me.” She resisted the urge to fold her arms in front of her, realizing that he didn’t need any more reasons to jump into wrong conclusions. “I wasn’t turning you down, okay?”

Color actually tinged his cheeks at her sarcastic comment. Dark eyes narrowed, and he fought the downward turn of his mouth. He was trying to be impassive, yes. Even as he knew he was failing, wanted nothing more than to turn and stomp out, he pushed out a slow and measured breath and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

There had been a time when he would have fired back immediately, grasped whatever cruel comment he came up with first and throw it back at her. When he would resort to violence if no comment was forthcoming. With aching difficulty, that time had passed. He'd spent much of his time on Hapes quietly learning and re-learning breathing exercises, meditation, diversion techniques, anything that hinted at the ability to undo Snoke's conditioning. Progress was slow and he'd had his fair share of set backs, but in this moment he evaded the impulse to snap back at her.

He even maintained most of his composure as he turned to look at her when prompted, though for another moment his expression remained an uncomfortable mix of the anger he was letting go and the stoic visage he was trying to embody. Feeling exposed and thus overcompensating his guard, Ben looked back at Rey.

He listened to her, and he reached for the stillness he could not often touch. He reached for their bond, and it helped a bit. He waited another moment before he spoke.

"I would understand if you do," he said quietly, with more calm than he truly felt. "You have every reason to."

She'd braced herself for, well, something. An equally sarcastic quip, an insult, an accusation. Perhaps even a lashing out via the Force. But he was surprisingly... calm. Yes, she could still feel the undercurrent of conflict, but it wasn't the frothing rage she used to associate with him. She supposed it had paid off, all the Jedi exercises and training he'd put himself through since his relocation to Hapes. It was a good thing, but it was a tad unsettling still.

Unsettling enough to leave her more agitated than she should be.

"Don't put words in my mouth," she huffed, unconsciously wringing her hands for a lack of a better thing to do with them. Kriff, he was impossible sometimes. But as much as she wanted to settle the matter, she really didn't know what she was supposed to say. Take it from the top and explain herself? What was there to explain, anyway? What she liked about him? That while she hadn't said anything about him kissing her, it was okay?

(How do other, normal, no-Force-bond people do this?)

"I wasn't turning you down," she ended up repeating, frustration lacing her voice.

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