Darkness Expectant Chapter 26: A First Journey Complete
Kylo/Reader
Some fluff, some angst and A LOT of smut!
5,716k words
You can’t remember the last time you’ve been so bone-achingly tired. You take a deep breath, blink rapidly and try again to focus again on the console in front of you, even if the text and the diagrams are starting to blur and blend together.
Your feet hurt and your back hurts and it feels like it’s been days since you’d last eaten. You understand how important the launch of this new fleet of TIE fighters is and how crucial it is that every detail be perfect. You’ve even smiled at the thought of how much your dad would have loved discussing weapons technology with your husband. But more than anything, you just want everyone around you to shut up and go away.
Kylo nudges you with his elbow again and gives you another meaningful look. He’d already told you that you could leave and go home whenever you needed to. Go to bed and he’d be back soon. But you’d (stupidly) refused, determined to stay the course. You’re grateful that he’s allowed you to lean against him and has wrapped his cape protectively around you as you shift your weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Had you actually fallen asleep standing? It feels like no time at all has passed when Kylo’s voice, his sharp, “Supreme Leader Voice” brings you back from wherever you’d been. “This will reconvene tomorrow. We’re nearing completion anyway.” You watch as the officers and designers shuffle out of the room, mumbling and shutting off datapads and consoles.
“I’m not sure what kind of reward you expect for that,” he says as he props you back up on your feet. “You didn’t have to stay.” You yawn widely and shake your head at him. “This is im… important! To you and to the entire Order. I should be here for it, be involved.” Kylo sighs deeply and mutters “Be involved in bed.” Naturally, you hear him. And smile as he hooks his arm around your shoulders and leads you out of the command room. But the sound of your name, at once urgent and relieved, brings you all the way to your senses. “Supreme Leader, may I steal my daughter from you for a bit?” Your mother sinks into an obviously sarcastic curtsy before hurrying across the command room. “I promise I’ll give her back in one piece. I’ll even feed her dinner.” She looks back at you, pleading, but with a strange undercurrent of something almost like excitement. “(Y/N), I really, really need to talk to you.”
“Of course,” Kylo answers smoothly as he quite literally hands you over to her. You scowl at him. These two certainly do love making decisions when it comes to you. Resigned to your fate, you allow Kylo to place a kiss on your forehead, and tell you that he loves you before linking your arm with your mother’s and heading back to her quarters. She’s rambling about how difficult it was to find you and she can’t believe you and Kylo were still working this late. And you wonder how easy it is to slip from the role of Loving Daughter to Devoted Darkside Wife, to “Fuck-Me-Kylo-I’m-Your-Whore”. Almost as if they’re not really separate roles at all. Just you.
Only two people in the Galaxy can truly anticipate your needs. And never fail in meeting them. And you almost melt with gratitude when your mother places a plate of Kodari-rice and groat chop in front of you after you’ve sat down. “I have to feed my kids, right?” she asks as she settles into the chair across from you. Her eyes flick down to your belly and you smile.
But it just means that you won’t be going to bed hungry. And you plan on going to bed within the next…. however long it will take you to finish eating/pretending to listen and walk back to your quarters and your bed.
“I’m sorry to drag you here and I know you’re tired, but this is serious,” your mother tells you, leaning across the table. “Not bad, though. Just serious, so please don’t worry.” Of course, now you’re already worried. Every horrible scenario runs through your head as you set your plate down and steel yourself for the worst. She draws a deep breath and closes her eyes briefly. And your heart stutters and starts beating again when she says the words, “I’m thinking about getting another pittin.”
Relief washes over you as you sink back into the chair and glance at the clock on the wall. Even pregnant, exhausted and miserable, in the battle between sleep and pittins, pittins will always win. So much for getting to bed any time soon. “All right,” you rub your hands together as you sit up and your mother looks at you hopefully. “There is no such thing as too many pittins. And I’m sure I can get you special permission to have more than one in your quarters, if you need it.” You wink at her. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard the rumors, but apparently I have some influence with the Supreme Leader.” Now, male or female? And what are you thinking for names?”
You have no idea how much time has passed when your mother deposits you back at the door to your quarters, kisses your cheek and thanks you for all your help. Kylo is probably in bed, if not already asleep. At least you’ve eaten dinner and are looking forward to curling up and falling asleep next to him.
But the lights are on inside and a familiar smell fills your quarters. Familiar, but still elusive. It smells like comfort. It smells like home. “Kylo?” you call as you walk in. The dining table is set with a full tea service and plates of crumblebun and Jogan fruit tarts. It’s then that you realize the smell is sapir tea. Your heart clenches at all the memories woven into and around the taste and smell of the drink.
He comes in from the food prep area, gestures for you to sit down at one of the seats and you notice that, for all the elegance and symmetry of the table, your husband, looks a little disheveled. From his messy hair and rumpled pajamas, down to his bare feet. Why hasn’t been in bed? He sees the confused look on your face and gives you one of the smirks that you’ve come to know so well. The kind that make you want to smack him, make you want to kiss him.
“Which one of us is going to say ‘Happy anniversary’ first?” he asks. Anniversary? Of what? Alderaan? Jakku? Jedi Temple?! You wrack your brain, trying to give meaning to the day. Kylo takes a step closer to you and holds out his hand. “It was one year ago, the day we met.” The day you met? The first time? “A year?” you whisper and do the math, quickly acknowledging the time spent in fear and fortitude with Snoke and whatever was lost as the Resistance struggled in their attempt to rescue you. It seems more like a lifetime, several lifetimes. The blink of an eye. “It has!” you breathe.
Kylo shrugs almost imperceptibly, his face melting into a smile. “At least one of us has been keeping track. Come and sit.” He takes another step closer, but you can only stand frozen as images and memories flood your mind, taking you back to the very beginning. When you stood in your quarters, shouting at your mother that they can’t just “give” you to Commander Ren. When you sat across from him at a conference room table, he offered you his hand and you offered him your loyalty. Did any part of you know then, how much either of you would give to each other? Or gain in return?
It may have only been a year together, but Kylo immediately recognizes the look on your face. He sees how your eyes fill and your lip wobbles before he sweeps across the room and sweeps you into his arms. He’s warm and steady wrapped around you. “Still mine,” he whispers into your hair. “Now come sit down.”
You finally sit and have barely looked over the table, taking in the tea service and the delicious looking meal, when a realization hits you. “My mother!” you hiss and watch Kylo lean back in his chair, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “She was in on it the whole time! Keeping me distracted so you could have a chance to… oooooh! I bet she doesn’t even want a new pittin!” You’re not really angry, not at them anyway. Though the thought of Kylo and your mother working together like old friends, to plan a surprise for you is mildly irritating. Working together because you had forgotten what will probably be the most important day of your life.
Kylo shrugs and picks up his teacup. “I can’t speak one way or another about the pittin,” he says. “But I did enlist her help with keeping you busy while I set things up.” He holds out his cup. “Anniversary toast?” he asks and you scramble to lift yours as well. “My wife,” he says simply. The other half of my soul and every voice I’ve ever heard inside my head. It all lead to you.” You’re not even sure how to follow that and your hand shakes as you hold out your own cup.
“I didn’t want to hand my entire life over to you. Didn’t want
The sapir tea is just as lovey as it’s always been, smelling like home and warming your heart as well as your fingers that are wrapped around the cup. Though you want to save some of the crumblebun for breakfast, you can’t seem to stop eating it. Kylo sees you hesitate as you reach for another piece. “I’ll have more sent over,” he assures you. “It’ll be here by the morning.” He looks at you like the most beautiful thing in the Galaxy, like you’re not even real. Sometimes, he makes you feel like you aren’t real. Nobody real could ever do anything to deserve him. “A year!” you marvel through a mouthful of pastry. “It’s funny how it seems like a lifetime or like no time at all.”
Kylo reaches across the table and places his hand on yours. “I can do this now if I want,” he says. No more confusion or tangled emotions. He can reach across anything now and take any part of you he likes. Your fingers slip perfectly between his as you twine them together, bring him closer. “You remember the day we first met, don’t you?” he asks.
You blink in surprise. “Of course, I do! I was completely overwhelmed by everything, but I remember you. It was like you took up the entire space of the room. And I had no idea where I was supposed to fit.”
“You were so scared.”
“I was so scared,” you agree.
“It was frustrating!” Kylo continues. “I could feel it and I hated it. I just wanted to comfort you.” He clenches his fingers around nothing, as he remembers. “You were wearing blue that day and your hair was tied back.” Kylo shakes his head. “You were confusing even then.”
“I was scared and I was angry,” you remember. “So furious that I was essentially being handed over to another person, like I was some kind of property.” You had fought your mother hard on this. No way were you willing to give up your whole life and submit to a complete (and still terrifying) stranger, just because you had become some kind of Force tracking device.
“I mean, I knew who you were, of course,” you continue. “I’d been seeing you at ceremonies and functions and whatnot for a while. But it was ‘Commander Ren’. He was tall and wore all black and a mask and was supposedly immensely powerful.” That’s it, really. Your mother would drag you along to any First Order pomp and circumstance. So, you could fold your arms and scowl at everybody, sick of hearing what a beautiful young lady were becoming or how your dad would be so proud of you.
Kylo looks surprised by the fact that your paths had previously crossed, that you hadn’t both just burst into existence the day you met. “I wish I’d seen you,” he frowns. “Recognized you.” But you shake your head at him, convinced that he would have had very little patience with you back then. He was in the early stages of training with Snoke and you were a teenage timebomb. You scoff, and giggle darkly. “I doubt you would have wanted very much to do with 16-year-old me. I was a pretty unpleasant.”
You watch the familiar shadow fall over his eyes, darkening them with something other than regret. “I might have,” he says. “You were close to legal age. Old enough to marry.” Your breath catches, tightening your chest and sending a surge of warmth that travels through your body and settles heavily in your cunt. “I could’ve taken you anywhere,” Kylo continues. “Done anything I wanted to you.”
“I would have let you,” you reply and realize that you’re not the least bit teasing. You’re certain that, even then, the tiniest flash of light between you would have become the consuming fire that devours you both now.
And you each notice how the atmosphere changes. The romance and sentimentality have vanished as you meet each other’s eyes across the table. You can almost hear that lightning crackling and buzzing in the corners in the room.
You shrug and continue. “I miss you like that sometimes. Not that you aren’t terrifying now.” Because he is. Still towering over everything in his path and leaving devastation in his wake. Now unmasked, his victims and followers are able to see everything, from the slightest flick of an eyebrow to every feature contorted with rage.
“But the mask and the hood, the voice modulator.” You look down and realize that you’d been subconsciously rubbing your hands over your thighs and see how your legs have spread under your own touch. You place your hands back up on the table. “It was absolutely frightening, but exciting.”
Kylo continues staring at you, his mouth slightly open and eyes wide. As you stare back, you see his tongue dart out to moisten his lower lip and you wonder what the chances are of him just snapping and fucking you hard and fast on the table, teacups shattering on the floor and jogan fruit smearing onto your thighs.
“I saw you at functions and ceremonies, but there’s so much I feel like I missed. That I would have loved to have seen.” You become aware of how your voice is now shaking and how difficult it is to catch your breath. “The power and the destruction,” you continue. Kylo has seized your hand again and is now squeezing, his thumb rubbing hard against your knuckles, the same way he would rub against your clit if you were naked beneath him.
The table suddenly seems too wide, too much distance between you as you hear the teacups rattle against their saucers. “I especially wish I’d been there when you killed Han Solo,” you confess. “Not that I haven’t seen it countless times in your mind, but in person, it would have been so much more. I wish I could have felt all of it with you.”
“I wish you’d been there too,” Kylo groans. You can see the color rising in his cheeks and the sweat that beads across his forehead.
“I’m not a total deviant,” you attempt to explain before he cuts you off. “Yes, you are.” And you smile, because when it comes to him, you really are. Nothing is sacred. Nothing too brutal to share with him, to revel in together.
“All right,” you admit and shrug. “Maybe I really like the idea of sucking your cock right after you’ve murdered your father, I don’t know. Maybe.” Kylo briefly closes his eyes and huffs out a breath. “I would have thrown him off that bridge myself, so I could reach you faster.”
The lightning in the corners is now crackling inside your head, the Force pressing against your chest, making it even harder to breath. You feel the walls of your pussy throbbing, contracting to the rhythm of your heartbeat. The room already smells like sex. “You’ll see so much more,” he promises. “So much worse.”
But the lightning mutes, the pressure on your chest increases and you feel your ears pop as you instinctively place your other hand over your mouth and yawn widely. And the mood disappears. Kylo releases your hand and graces you with one of his rare, toothy smiles. “I’m amazed you’ve lasted this long,” he tells you as he walks around the table and helps you to your feet. He wraps his arms around you and holds you as tightly against him as he can, as much as the baby belly will allow. “You always seem to do that though, don’t you?”
“Hmmmf?” you mumble, your nose pressed into his chest. Kylo releases you and steps back. “Start yawning in the middle of an important conversation. Am I really that boring?” he asks. You remember the first time he’d kissed you and stumbled through a confession of love. You’d sat next to him, your hand in his, somehow both hanging on his every word and disbelieving of the entire situation. Until you’d suddenly, and quite rudely yawned right in his face.
Before you can answer, he reminds you for the fourth time to go to bed and you finally acquiesce. It’s hard to leave though. The vision of your dark warrior and Jedi killer clearing off the table, with tangled hair and no shoes is not one you want to tear your eyes, or heart away from.
In the bed chamber, you peel your clothes off and pull a simple sleeping shift over your head. If Quica decides to sink her claws into your back as you sleep, you’ll be protected. And if Kylo decides to sink anything else into you at any point during the night, you’ll be accessible.
With all the events of the evening, anniversaries and pittins and jogan fruit, you feel your earlier excitement waning as drowsiness starts to cloud your head. Quica settles on the bed next to you, her furry body pressed against you and her purr vibrating in your own chest. At least Kylo will be able to curl up next to you, you think. A year. Even if the small kicks and summersaults from inside your own body remind you of the passage of time, it still seems unreal.
“Off the bed.” The voice that pulls you from your doze is threatening, but familiar. Quica is gone and you blink up at the figure standing over you. It is a figure of nightmares, of comfort and confusion. Of lust. Silver lines and leather-clad hands. Instinct takes over and you hasten to roll out of the bed. To obey.
“Don’t move,” Kylo warns you. And though you can’t see his eyes behind the mask, you can feel them on you, tracing every curve, noting every bit of exposed and flushed skin. All the elements that you remember are there, the hood pulled up over the mask, the draping cowl across his chest and the frayed and uneven cape. Your heart drops and your pussy clenches. Gods, you’ve fucking missed this!
The leather is cold against your skin as he drags his hands up your arms, raising them above your head. “You should never have to undress yourself,” he says as he pulls off your shift in one swift motion and lets it fall to the floor. “Not when I’m around to do it.”
Kylo holds your chin in place and swipes his thumb over your lip. “Scared?” he asks. The modulator making his voice distorted and nearly unrecognizable. You know he’s going to push your limits tonight. But it is your anniversary after all, and it doesn’t seem fair that you should get to have all the fun. You swipe your tongue across the pad of his thumb and swirl it around the tip just like you love to do with his cock. “Not yet,” you answer.
He pulls his hand away from you and you watch as he climbs onto the bed, only slightly awkwardly as he tries to avoid getting tangled in the cape. And he settles on his back. And not even on the side he regularly sleeps on, but in the middle of the mattress. And you’re utterly puzzled as he lays his head down just below the pillows. This is obviously some sort of anniversary surprise he’d planned. But, unlike the tea and dessert, you doubt very much your mother has had anything to do with it.
Kylo doesn’t turn his head to look at you and instead keeps his faceless gaze trained on the ceiling above the bed. “Are you going to join me or not?” The words are clipped and he sounds impatient. You wonder if he expects you to enter into his mind and anticipate his requests before he asks. Easier said than done. But you see his finger tapping against his thigh, watch the bedchamber light reflect off the shiny leather of his glove. You decide that, in this case, going along with him will be more fun than being a cheeky brat. And you pull yourself onto the bed next to him.
You climb atop him, straddling his hips in the old familiar position, moving your hands up his chest. “No,” he scolds, seizing your wrists and pinning them together. With his free hand, he lightly smacks your ass and you stifle a small moan at the feel of the leather against your skin. And you sit there, throbbing and leaking against him, but confused about what exactly he’s asking. “Up, up, up.” He releases your wrists and you crawl off. “Mask,” he says, pulling the hood down from where the fabric had snagged on it. And you sit there, feeling naked and stupid. Although it might be to your advantage. “Ummm, yes?” you reply.
Kylo reaches and grabs your wrist again, pulling you closer. Even through the voice modulator, you can hear how his teeth are clenched. “Ride it!” And your heart doesn’t just drop in your chest at his words, it disappears altogether, leaving a dull, aching emptiness inside you. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you feel the heat travel up your body and the surge of moisture between your legs. “Come on,” he urges almost gently as he pulls you up toward his head.
You shuffle up the length of the bed, your calf brushing against his arm, each individual pleat in the sleeve leaving a trail of goosebumps down your leg. You’re mesmerized by the sight of your breasts, your nipples hard and bright pink. And though your belly obscures most of your legs, you watch as you lift your knee, swinging it over to settle and sink down into the bed just above his shoulder. And just as your belly hides the lower half of your body from view, it also hides Kylo’s mask from view. Though it does nothing to muffle the sound of his voice “same damn quote”. And you wonder what the view must look like to him. How many times has he looked through that visor and seen people’s last moments and watched the life in their eyes drain into nothingness? The burning, blinding glow of his lightsaber or his vision covered with spatters of blood. The only view now is of your open, throbbing pussy as you sink down onto his face. No victims or battles or dead fathers. Just swollen flesh as so much red.
As your husband, you adore him beyond all reason and as his apprentice, you were unflinchingly loyal to him from the very beginning. Not once did you hesitate in choosing him over your mother, even over Snoke. But now kneeling, hot and dripping over his face, over the dreaded but achingly familiar shapes of the mask, fogging up the surfaces, a shiver runs through you at how forbidden and profane the whole act feels. How utterly disrespectful and you’re reminded of when he fucked your mouth as you sat on the Supreme Leader’s throne. It makes you sick but so, so wet how he takes every symbol of ritual and reverence and defiles them one by one with you. Until the only sacred things left are each other.
The obsidian and durasteel of the mask are still cold against the throbbing heat of your cunt. The silver ridges of the visor drag against your clit and you moan softly. “Make your sounds,” Kylo urges you and the deep vibration from his voice reaches all the way up into your chest. You roll your hips and the edges of the faceplate slide along the creases in your thighs. As you move faster, the unbidden image of Darth Vader appears in your head. Whether it came from some place within you or was put there by Kylo himself, you’re not certain. But it’s almost a mirror image of you now, sweaty and shaking, sitting atop the mask, sliding your wet pussy over the grooves and ridges. Leather-clad hands on your thighs, gripping and bruising the flesh. The same mask that sits in a box only a few feet away in the bedchamber. You shudder as your eyes dart over to the shelf where the burned and twisted remains of Vader’s face lie. Beneath you, his grandson squeezes your ass, wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down harder, moving you faster as you grind your clenching cunt against him.
And he stops. Kylo lifts you, not too gently, off of him and stands. You squeak his name in surprise as he reaches for you and drags you to edge of bed. He continues staring down at you and you watch in amazement as he unfastens his trousers and pulls his cock out through the layers of fabric with one hand while still keeping the other on your leg. He shoves your knees apart and holds you steady as he pushes unto you. And he keeps going, even when it feels like there’s no more of him or more of you left. Then he bottoms out and you feel the rough fabric of his tunic as it scratches against your thighs. And the pressure on your cervix almost steals your breath away.
He only lets a few moments pass before he begins thrusting into you soundlessly, keeping your legs spread as his fingers dig into your knees. Above you, he seems unfeeling and almost inhuman. Even though the light reflects off the wet streaks you left on his mask, he doesn’t betray a hint of his own pleasure or any care for yours, other than allowing you to keep your hands placed over his. He feels as anonymous and vague as the Commander Ren you would sometimes see at functions when you were younger, tall and clothed in black. And it’s easy to imagine him taking you anywhere and you allowing him to do anything to you.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” His voice is hoarse and betrays the emotion that really is there, the mounting lust and desperate need. “Not just your precious Kylo Ren?” he pants with each stroke. “You want the Supreme Leader, don’t you? Want to feel his power and his cock deep inside you.” The “Yes!” that falls from your lips is indecent. “You want him to come in you?” Kylo asks, increasing his pace, somehow thrusting harder even though you’re clenching almost painfully tight around him. “Come hard and just fill your tight little pussy all the way up.” And you want everything from him. Too much and yet nothing at all. Every orifice on every surface in every star system. You want to burn down all the parts of your life from before he was there. Watch the entire galaxy burn as you kneel before him and take him into your mouth. As he bends you over another smoldering ruin and opens you up.
But in this moment, this is all you need. His cock in your cunt, hitting every spot that makes your toes curl and your back arch up into him. Making vulgar, squelchy sounds as he fucks you through your slick. His hands that grip your knees, pulling you onto him as his thrusts become harder and deeper. You nod frantically, your throat almost closing as you choke out a “I want it!” Followed by an almost inaudible and much deeper, “Oh, fuck.”
“You’ve done so well,” he continues. “You’re always so good to me. Such a sweet…” He pauses, shakes his hands out from under yours as he reaches up, reaches to release the mask’s faceplate, to tear it off and let it fall at his feet. A sob catches in your chest at the sight of him. His face is flushed and sweaty, his lips are swollen and his hair matted against his temples. You missed him!
“Kyloooo!” you whine as you blink back tears and reach for him. He gathers you into his arms and kisses you. Holds you as close against him as your unborn son will allow. “I love you, (Y/N)!” he breathes against your skin. “I love you, Gods, I love you so much!”
Words have momentarily failed you, but you hope he can feel by the way you keep your hands clutched into the rough fabric of his cape, how you continue to move your own hips in time to meet his, how your pussy tightens around him. Everything. Too much and still not enough.
He slips his hand down between you and you feel his thumb on your clit, swirling tight circles around the painfully swollen nub. “Oh, thank the stars!” you gasp as you finally find your voice. “Please, yes!” He’s going to bring you there. Drag you along with him and then hurl you into the chasm. Before he jumps in after you.
Kylo increases the speed of his thumb, rubbing frantically over your clit. “Don’t you ever fucking touch yourself, you hear me?” he babbles. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you!” You feel your juices run from between your legs, feel them pool on the bed below you. And both of you are so, so close and so hot and so wet. “Please,” he begs. “You’ve got to come on my cock, baby! All over me.” His voice is now plaintive. “Please. I need to feel you!” You nod and tighten your grip on him, pulling him closer, trapping him against and inside you. You’ll spend the rest of your life coming on him. Every anniversary, every year.
“Fuck!!” you nearly shout as he drags the head of his dick against that one perfect spot inside you, the spot that always makes you clench around him, makes you drool over his cock, makes you sob. “Kylo! Just…mmmm, just harder!”
He smooths a gloved hand over your head, pushing back your sweaty strands of hair. “All right,” he murmurs in a low voice. “Whatever you need.” He grips your waist and slams into you so hard, it almost makes you gag. You can feel him all the way up into your throat.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” you chant in time to his brutal pace. He yanks you down hard onto him and freezes, as his thumb presses into your clit. You can feel his cock swell inside you and your pussy clamps tight around him as he explodes into you, coating your walls with him. “Oh, I’m coming!” you gasp, somehow sounding more surprised than consumed by pleasure. But consumed, you are. So consumed that you can only squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto your Supreme Leader, your Commander Ren as you ride out the peaks and valleys of your shattering orgasm. The fabric of his tunic scratches your face as you press into him, hearing his labored breathing above you and feeling the drops of sweat that drip into your hair.
“Kylo!” you choke. “Oh, sweetheart!” He shoves your chin up, growls, “My fucking wife!” and crashes his lips against yours. Your cunt continues its contractions milking and sucking every last drop of cum from his cock. As you suck his tongue in rhythm, moving your lips against his, tasting him and taking all of him into you. His lips slide against your cheek as his softening cock slips out of you and he collapses on the bed, panting. You’re almost sobbing and your hands are on his face, in his hair, on his chest, whatever you can touch. He throws the blanket over the two of you and wraps his arms around you as tight as they will go.
“Don’t even say it,” Kylo warns as your breathing begins to return to normal. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head.” You mumble some nonsense into his shoulder, something that you hope sounds innocent and unconcerned, but he knows how he still terrifies you. Knows that even the happiest of celebrations, the sickening relief of reunion or the creation of new life together can erase that fear entirely.
He pulls his fingers through your hair, lifting the damp strands from off your neck. He hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off or even pull his pants back up for that matter. You love him. And you raise your eyes to meet his. “You can go back to sleep now,” he says. “And I’ll still be here when you wake up.” He places a hand low on your belly, nearly on your pubic bone and you feel the fluttery kicks from inside as a son recognizes his father. “I will be here,” Kylo continues. “And so will he. Every year and every other anniversary from now on.”