There goes Mr. Heartless
There goes Mr. Cruel
He never gives
He only takes
He lets his hunger rule
If being mean's a way of life
You practice and rehearse
Then all that work is paying off
'Cause Scrooge is getting worse
Every day, in every way
Scrooge is getting worse!
THE MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL
1992 • dir. Brian Henson
Of all the things at risk, the loss of an objective reality is perhaps the most dangerous. The death of truth is the ultimate victory of evil. When truth leaves us, when we let it slip away, when it is ripped from our hands, we become vulnerable to the appetite of whatever monster screams the loudest.
He is quicker. The hand at the back of my neck raises and my fist collides with the palm of his hand like a magnetic pull. His long fingers wrap around my hand, so much smaller than his. He twists me in his hold. My body twists until my hand rests against my back, trapped in his fist, his hand around my throat the entire time. It doesn't cut off my breathing, but there's a slight daze there from the mild pressure. He's so controlling of everything, even his own strength. My other hand comes up to try and smack him- just in case he has those cuffs again because I swear I will never be in another pair of cuffs again or so help me-
Kylo pushes me down against the bed so I'm bent over the edge. I squeal as I feel like I'm falling. His body follows mine. My legs kick and push at the ground below me in an attempt at getting away. He hoists my body up a little further on his own and the ground comes away from my feet. I still kick and squeal, my feet his the backs of his thighs. This mother fucking is large. He eases the pressure on my back just a bit as his right hand wraps around the hair at the base of my scalp, his other hand, left, wraps around my neck and tilts my head back so his mouth presses against my ear. "Settle down." he all but growls. His voice is a deep murmur, like someone trying to calm an enraged animal. "You want a fight? We can fight." he loosens his grip on my hair just enough that I could turn my head. "Me. Not your past, not your addiction. Fight me, here, now." I turn my head to glare at him. "Your choice." he offers.
I purse my lips in an attempt to spit, to distract, to get him off so I can leave.
Instead, he does something I'd have never expected. He slides two fingers past my lips, settling on my tongue. I let out a choked coughed, brain seeming to rewire. How could he just...
Without thinking, my teeth sink into the gloves separating his fingers from my tongue. They taste like ash and leather and my own spit. It's a little addicting. I've had his fingers in my mouth before, but never with the gloves on. It's a complete shock to my system and I'm sure like he wanted, my whole body goes still for a moment, teeth digging into his gloves. They're too thick to do any real damage or even hurt him at all, but I hope it sends a message. "Good." he murmurs, his voice low against my ear. He doesn't remove his fingers, he settles the two a little deeper making me gasp and then choke again. "You want to hate me? Hate me. You want to bite me, bite me, fight me, I don't care! Just do it sober. Do it here." his thumb strokes my cheek and my eyes flutter shut for a moment, unsure of what else to do with myself.
Slowly he with drawls his fingers and wipes the spit off on his bed. I'm on his sheets. He releases my hair but doesn't life his weight off me. "Your turn. Talk or don't. But choose quickly."
I take a few deep breaths, trying to reorganize my thinking which he's completely disrupted. "I uhm.. I'm sober right now. Can't tell you how long I will be once I leave." I tell him once I finally find my voice. It's shaky and uneven but mind, stripped of any haze or daze. "I know. That's why I'm asking you to stay." he releases the pressure of his body and extends a hand to help me up. I take it, letting myself be pulled upright. I sit on the bed and face him, watching as he pulls away and paces across the expanse of his bedroom. "You think I don't know what it's like to be clear for a moment and know it won't last? To feel everything rushing back in." his shakes his head, wild waves in a flurry. "I live there y/n, every day the silence is worse than the noise." he stops when he gets to his desk, placing his gloved hands on the desk firmly. His head bows down. "Stay tonight. Sober. With me, not because I'm ordering you but because I want you to. Because you want to be here too."
For a moment I can't say anything. He really has changed. Grown soft and weak. Everyday I expect him to change, become the Kylo Ren he was supposed to be, the one I want. "You disappointed me Ren." I start off, strength returns to my legs and I stand to my full height, I watch his shoulders roll and tense up. "Snoke was right about you. You'll never be a good Supreme Leader because you're still in your head about life. About me, people who don't matter. Grow up, do some maturing, then we'll talk." my feet move, carrying me around his bed towards the closet where I dropped my clothes. I can hear Kylo's boots against the floor but I'm too afraid to face him.
His gloved hand wraps around my wrist and yanks me back until my chest collides with his. I have to tilt my head to be able to meet his eyes. "Snoke was wrong about everything." his voice is low and rough, that permanent glower in his eyes sending a chill through my spin. There he is. "He wanted me to be a weapon. To feel nothing. But I feel everything..." his other hand settles on the small of my back, right over my spine. "And I want you." possession. "You want me to grow up? Fine. I'm growing up right now. I admitted that I need you, that I want you. I'm terrified of losing you, especially to yourself. But I would rather have you hate me for life sober than love me high."
"There's nothing here!" I shouted, all my anger shooting out of me like a blaster. I press my hands on his chest and shove as hard as I could. He didn't budge even an inch. "There's nothing here, Ren! I came up here to get laid! I do not feel anything for you. Why won't you believe me? Even if I could feel anything, it's not possible for us!" I don't tell it to but my voice cracks, small and almost incoherent but I felt it in my chest. "You're right. It's not possible. You're a smuggler, I'm a war criminal. You run from everything I destroy everything I touch." his hand on my wrist slides all the way up my arm, my neck and cup my cheek leaving goosebumps in its wake. "But impossibility has never stopped us before... When I see you I forget everything I've ever done. You make me want something real for once, not power, not to kill people. I forget everything that's ever been done to me, said to me. You make me want to be a better man." he presses his forehead against mine. "Please don't walk away from me."
"I can't... I can't do this. It's not... Not fair." I whisper, my lips brushing against his. He nods and pulls away, his tongue brushes against the inside of his cheek. Frustration maybe. He's upset. I've upset the Supreme Leader. "That's alright... It's alright." he nods and his hands fall away from mine. I cling onto the feeling of leather on my skin. "I'm sure I'll see you sooner than later." he turns his cheek and gives me this one, last, lingering look and something inside of me tells me he's lying. Kylo Ren and I won't be seeing each other anymore. Not like this, it's unhealthy. It's unsafe. "Yeah." I whispered into the open air. "I'll comm you if I'm ever in the area... We can..." I trail off, unsure of what else to offer him. This is what he looks like hurt and I hate that it's me. But I'd rather break his heart now than waste his time pretending to be someone I'm not. He nods, eyes lingering on my face. "I'll have my men refill your ship and you can be good to go."
"Thank you." I whispered, wrapping my arms around my midsection, suddenly feeling exposed and cold. There's no wind, no trace of an air vent anywhere near me, but this place I'm standing in has never been colder. He either doesn't notice or care, or think it's a good idea to comment because he just stands there watching me for a moment. "You take care of yourself, alright y/n?" I nod, unable to say anything else to soothe the burn. He seems to be unable to think of something to say either because he just turns around and walks out of his bedroom.
A dull chill settles around me once I'm alone. It's what I've always wanted, yet this doesn't feel fulfilling at all.
