11. Your muse slams mine against a wall hard. @ofdcstiny
Her head crashes against the ice cold steel wall with force and her vision goes black for the blink of an eye. She’s used to being handled roughly —-training with Kylo isn’t a walk in the park, certainly, and she wears the bruises and scars adorning her body with pride. Rarely a day goes by where not a new wound or scratch is added, but those.. those are proof of her unconditionally devotion to the training, to the cause, to him. In a way, the bruises are her own kind of medals, her reason to keep going, every mark left an accomplishment.
But this is different. He’s known for his tempers and she can almost sense when to expect them by now, her mind irreversably linked to his —-his emotions are hers, and even if he tries so hard to hide them, so hard to keep up his facade of strength and carelessness, she’s there, right there with him in his exhausting fight for dominance over his own desire to be good, to be faithful, to find a way back to the light. She’s there with him, giving her all to be the support and anchor that he needs so bad, even unadmitted and definitely going unappreciated.
And one day, at one point along the way, her limitless loyalty became something more. She’s known it for quite a good amount of time, that he’s so sensitive to her emotions too, and she’s certain that he knows —–knows her from the inside out, every quickly hidden desire, every softened gaze when trailing it along his features. She had tried to pretend, tried to convince herself that what she felt was simple adoration and admiration for her devoted teacher, but she had given that up quickly, knowing there was no use to it. She didn’t dare to think of love, unsure if she was even capable of putting any meaning at all to the word, those four letters ever so present when she was with him, and if she had to define it, define what it meant to be in love, it would be this; this single moment late at night when they had both stayed up too late in the dark training room, the last light of the sun already wasted away hours ago. Her training has been going on long enough for her to be able to sense movement even without seeing it, but he still manages to catch her by surprise —–the only one that could ever overcome her, the only one she’d gladly die for if he but simply asked.
She slams against the wall hard, his hand presses against her throat, and he’s so close she can hear his heartbeat, fast and out of rythm and his breath on her neck sends unwanted shivers down her spine. Her eyes are locked with his, towering over her just like the first time they’d met, and the bright memories steal her breath away even more than his hand on her throat could. It feels like yesterday and like centuries ago at the same time when he found her, a raw diamond with no idea just how powerful she was.
She knows she could just force-throw him away with a short demand in her mind, but she doesn’t. She’s still, pressed against the wall, heart almost jumping out of her chest and although every bone in her body aches from the forceful impact she can’t help the swift, tiny motion. Leaning against his fist around her neck, she presses forward, eyes locked on him, and every single emotion she can gather, she forces into his mind, everything she’s ever felt, the endless frustration, burning desire, countless sleepless nights when he wouldn’t leave her tortured mind, and even the nights where she had different thoughts, thoughts that she wouldn’t dare to ever show him, thoughts of skin on skin and maybe even loving affection. Like waves crashing onto the sharp edges of the shore, she lets it all lose, a wild force of all the things she’s always bottled up.
She struggles the words out, hoarse and rough and barely audible because she doesn’t have any breath left, and his hands are strong around her —-the flood of feelings and emotions wastes away with her consciousness, and she can feel her legs give in underneath her when the merciful darkness pulls her into the soft embrace of syncope.
