Ben Writes a Poem
AN: This was written by my boyfriend, but he’s too shy to post it himself~
In thoughts, in wishes
I call to you, to stay here
Near for evermore.
A handful of claps escaped the small classroom and trickled into the hallway, mingling with the quiet voices of a school day afternoon. Rey smiled towards her group of friends, her eyes darting around the room, noting the applause from the other members. If someone was to walk by room 210, the poetry club at this time of the day, Mondays and Thursdays from 2:30 to 3:30, they would see small bundles of students clustered together, writing limericks and discussing poetic prose. The class bathed in warm sunlight, a seemingly enchanting and memorable time to be young and alive.
If, at this time, one was to pass by room 103: the gymnasium, they would be greeted by the immortal fire of scorching hatred, Ben, that was currently attempting to lodge a volleyball through an opponent and into the ground, which is naturally an entire different way to spend one’s afternoon.
Still though, there were days when Rey wished Ben would stop by on his way to practice occasionally, not that they’re dating or anything (though, she totally would, but he apparently prefers to spend his days screaming at a net, or a wall, or his opponent, or his parents, or his dog). Every once in a while though, as she had seen, he stopped his yelling, he put aside his anger and his frustration, and he seemed at peace with the world around him. She had once spotted him, in a moment of pure relaxation, pick up a fallen leaf in the heart of autumn and hold it up to the sun, studying the veins that were threaded into the fibers. She watched as he stood there, and she was genuinely impressed that he lasted a whole ten seconds before dropping the dead tree fingernail and crushing it under his size 12 shoe. How does she know his shoe size? Don’t fucking worry about that.
And before she knew it, her club had closed for the day and she had seemed to have become so lost in thought over the boy that she barely remembered gathering her belongings, waving goodbye to Finn, and walking to her locker. She barely even remembered starting a conversation with Ben. Oh, shit! She’s having a conversation with Ben!!
“I almost got into a fight today.”
“… With… who?” She asked cautiously.
“No one, it was the net.”
“The net?” She was understandably confused. “How-”
“The net got in my way when I was hitting the ball, and I hit it really hard- Sorry I interrupted you,” he stated curtly, before continuing, “and the net was in the way so the ball hit the net and so I got really frustrated because I don’t get in the net’s way when it’s trying to do things, and so I…“ Ben realized his fists were clenched, no, actually his whole body was clenched.
“W-well I’m sure the net didn’t mean to,” Rey replied sarcastically. Ben caught on to her joke, and showed that he caught onto her joke by laughing, somewhat too loudly, to show that he caught on to her joke and to prove that her joke was funny to him, because apparently that’s how he thinks human interactions should work. Rey chuckled at the awkward gesture, but this only caused Ben to laugh harder, since he wanted to show that he knows that she was laughing and that he was laughing with her because he gets social cues and he knows how to be a normal human being. Rey, not knowing how to handle the violently laughing sweaty guy next to her, turned to look at the notebook in her hand. Ben immediately stopped violently laughing. Rey racked her brain to think of a topic.
“So, I-”
“So-”
The pairs’ words collided into each other’s, followed by quick apologies.
“Go ahead,” Ben said quietly.
“No, you can go,” Rey replied.
“I was just going to say,” Ben’s voice regained its edge, “that some of the guys on the team gave me a new nickname.”
“What n-“ Rey began to prod, though she was interrupted again.
“Kylo Ren. –Sorry– What do you think about it? It’s cool, isn’t it?” He sounded genuinely excited. She liked that.
“I do-” She started, though she was interrupted again… again.
“What did -sorry- you want to say?” he blurted out.
“Well, I… I was going to ask if you would…” She had forgotten what she was going to say, and then she remembered “…If you would like to come to one of my club’s meetings?” She looked up at him and noted that he had relaxed somewhat.
“Poetry?” He asked, his voice unsure.
“Yeah, we’re having a meeting next Monday, so if you would like, maybe you could come join us… if you wanted, you could write something…” She trailed off.
“I’ll come. I love poetry.” It shot out of his mouth like a bullet, and before he knew it, he was sitting at home, freaking out over what he had just signed up for.
“I don’t know what to do, I HATE POETRY,” he screamed into the phone. Hux pulled the phone away from his ear.
“You don’t have to-” He attempted to calm Ben down, but was cut off by a loud, commanding voice on the other end.
“STOP YELLING UP THERE!” Ben heard his mom yell.
“SORRY, MOM,” he replied.
“IT’S FINE! DINNER WILL BE READY IN A BIT!” Leia yelled.
“THANKS, MOM!” Ben replied. He turned his attention back to the phone.
“You don’t have to go, you know,” Hux stated politely. Ben knew that already, he’s Kylo Ren, he knows EVERYTHING, but he didn’t want to disappoint Rey.
“I understand you don’t want to disappoint her, but if it’s going to make you uncomfortable, why go? Hux replied. The sun had gone down slightly, with golden rays splashing against his walls through the slits of his blinds. He sat, phone held up to his ear by his shoulder, shoveling forkfuls of spaghetti into his mouth, chewing sporadically.
“I knowsh da bu I jus wan her do lu ee” He forced out between the delicious pasta.
“What the fuck did you say? I can’t understand you,” Hux demanded. Ben chewed less sporadically.
“I said that I care about her, and…” He sighed. “And I just don’t know how to write poetry, and I’m scared I’ll sound stupid.” He punched a stuffed penguin sitting on his bed. He felt bad for the penguin, so he put it back, patting it on the head.
“Well, why don’t you get some help from that Finn guy?” Hux offered. “He knows Rey. He knows what she likes. Maybe he could help you.”
Friday classes came and went quickly, and as students padded out onto the sidewalks, Ben stalked the hallway, looking for that jerk he keeps seeing around Rey, though he’s not jealous, its just that he doesn’t like seeing her around- oh, there he is.
“I need your help,” Ben tossed out, attempting to sound casual. Except it wasn’t casual, he just blurted it out without Finn’s prior acknowledgment, causing him to drop his books and squeak in surprise, before whipping around to face the tall sack of rage that hovered a thousand feet above him. Finn tried to compose himself, but only managed a second nonhuman mumble, though there was some improvement as it was closer to a squawk than a squeak.
“Stop that,” Ben stated, though it seemed more like a demand.
“Sorry! Sorry… yeah,” Finn mumbled, regaining his voice slightly. “Sorry, uh… sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry,” Ben pleaded, though it seemed more like stab.
“Sorry, uh, sorry-” he stopped himself, attempting to appear calm by leaning himself on his locker, though he forgot it was open, so now he stood with his elbow buried about a foot into the opening. He figured it would be best to just leave it there. “Uh, what do you need?”
“I need to write a poem.”
Finn had to take a moment, or a couple moments, in fact it took him the remainder of the day and part of the next one to realize what he had just heard. He wasn’t even sure he heard those words come out Ben’s mouth. He had to clarify.
“So, you need to write a poem?” He poked, though his attention had turned towards the room he was sitting in, the posters of games on the walls and the models of spaceships hanging on fishing line floating a foot above their heads. Ben swiveled in his chair away from his desk to face the boy.
“Yes,” Ben replied. Finn sat there, hoping he would say more, but that was it, I guess.
“Okay, well, why?” He prodded.
“Because I want Rey to like me and my cool poetry.” He was very straightforward.
“Well, ok, sure…” Finn had no idea how to talk to this creature. “I know she likes haikus, so you could do one of those, and they’re simple, just five syllables, then seven, then five.” Ben looked at him, which concerned Finn, because Ben always had this thing where he looked like he was mad, but Finn wasn’t sure. Ben swung back around in his chair, followed by a flurry of typing.
It took the entire afternoon to pen out a poem of merit, at least by Ben’s low standard. Finn left for home, half his mind in thought over the situation. The writing, though decent for his first poem but unfortunately, well, this was Ben Solo, a boy who prided himself on how many walls he punched in a day, so, you know, no Walt Whitman there. Finn didn’t know why, but he was worried about Ben, about how the club would react. He was sure it would be bad, but what was there to do? He quickened his pace.
A Monday morning approached rapidly, followed by a swath of classes, and before long the black-haired noodle man was standing down the hall from room 210 and he was genuinely frightened. He grasped his notebook tightly, and began the thirteen steps to the door that would seal his fate in the tomes of- oh, never mind it was only nine steps, must be his long legs. He swung into the door frame and froze, not because of the ten or so students scattered around the room, not because by swinging into the room he accidentally smacked right into Finn, knocking the books out of his nervous little hands, but because sitting next to the window, bathed in bright golden light, sat Rey, who turned to look at him, or Finn clambering for his books, or him, no, definitely him, and suddenly Ben felt a jolt of excitement and fear. He swung back out of the class, melting against the wall as he panicked, and in this panic, he realized his poem, of which he spent an afternoon of his life on, was absolute ass. He couldn’t recite that poem, he couldn’t imagine the reaction he’d get, he couldn’t face a group of students laughing at him, he couldn’t imagine Rey…
He raised the notebook, noting the black plastic front and silver lettering of metallic Sharpie spelling out ‘KYLO REN’ across the top, rad, before flipping it open to a blank page, and reaching into his pocket to retrieve his pen. All he wanted to do was impress Rey, to make her like him, to make her talk to him, and to spend time with him and to walk home with him, and to hang out after school, and to eat his mom’s spaghetti with him like those dogs in that movie, and to sit outside in autumn, and to crush leaves, and to ride bikes, and to have sleepovers, and to sit on his roof, and to spend holidays together, and to see her in the snow, and to see her every day, and to spend as much time as he could with her, and for her to WANT to spend time with him, and to have a friend that he could cherish, and to feel cherished, and then he realized that he was done… and he took a deep breath. He turned the corner into the room, and ran into Finn again, because apparently that bumbling, squirrely idiot likes to nest under fucking doorframes, and then he saw her, again, and he sighed.
The meeting began and students came up to recite poems of nature and water and schoolwork and stress and before long, there was no one left but him, and so he stood up, and he looked at Finn, who sheepishly smiled, and he looked at Rey, and she looked back at him, and his eyes flitted down to his notebook, and he paused, and then he started.
My heart burns of cold embers for you,
Your tears cool me,
Your breath enflames me,
I grow and shrink according to you,
And I love it.
For days and weeks, it seemed that time itself stopped in room 210. That seasons had passed, that years had passed in the time it took him to blink. The world had stopped, and it seemed that Ben lived every century in the look of shock on Rey’s face, that he experienced lifetimes on her cheek, that he blew through millennia staring at the tip of her nose, and only when they locked eyes, did the world seem to finally jolt into existence, and with it the chorus of cheers from the room, though Ben could only hear one, and it was the only one he ever wanted to hear, and whether the world ended there, or continued, it mattered not to him, because he could see everything he ever wanted in front of him.
And then he sat down next to her.
