😡 for an angsty starter ((Hello there, I am back from the dead!))
This bridge was small. Claustrophobic, despite the lack of walls. The extreme length of the platform made Ben feel a world apart and -in some ways- he was. Carefully, he moved cautiously across the bridge and towards Ben (he refused to call him Kylo. That wasn’t the name they gave him).
“Ben!” He yelled, watching the other spin around. He felt sick all of a sudden. The last time he saw his son, he was but a boy. A broken child with a desperate need for love. A disappointed and neglected child.
Han could feel the slab of desperation in his throat grow larger and he swallowed thickly as if that would somehow rid him of the pain he was feeling. He stepped closer, never taking his eyes off Ben. Even as a boy, Ben lacked in intimacy- he had Han to blame for that. Walking forward evermore, he did not stop until he was face to face with his son. He imaged not many people dared to get close to such a man.
“Ben,” he said breathlessly, looking up at the mask, “take that thing off. Take it off! I want to see my son’s face.”