@lightled said: “Ben.” She whispers in the elevator. “Please look at me.”
dark eyes flicker over on impulse. she knows what buttons to push, how to get a reaction. his relinquished name pokes and prods at wounded flesh, begs for his attention. really, he should just bare it, but doing so with her is akin to biting one’s own teeth.
ever since their time in the snow--no, their time in the interrogation room, even--he finds it more and more difficult to just clench his fists and be on his way. his reactions are out before he even realizes it. he can feel his expressions change on their own accord, whereas before whatever pain he felt could be easily hidden behind a mask. behind kylo ren’s mask. buried beneath a hard shell with a fleshy, tender center. a weak center. ben solo.
and--he hates it. he hates their connection. he hates her. the way she pulls at him, like a ripper tugging at fraying seams. she’s seen him. past kylo ren, through to ben. a child in a mask.
he wants... to be angry. to yell at her to face forward. scream at her to shut up. yet, despite words so proudly declared to his ill-fated father, the weak and foolish person kylo ren thought he’d killed that night at the jedi temple somehow remains alive. pitifully wounded. but she can see him.
and no matter how much kylo ren, working under the supreme leader, hurting and harming so many, wants that pitiful creature to stay dead... ben solo reaches out anyway.
“i know what you’re trying to do, rey.” his words are even. no hostility, just matter-of-fact. “you think calling me that name will sway me, don’t you?” pull at him. “it’s too late for me. i told han solo his son is dead. he’s better off staying buried.”
