The air tasted like ozone and regret. I watched Kylo Ren pace, the black fabric of his uniform swallowing the shadows. He wasn't looking at me, not really. His gaze was fixed on something miles away, something inside his own head. I knew that look. It was the one that said *I am trying to break you*, and honestly? It was working.
He hadn’t touched me since… since the last time. It wasn’t the physical absence that gnawed at me, though. It was the silence. The deliberate, calculated silence. Like he was testing me, seeing how long I’d hang on before I begged for even a single touch.
“You’re staring.” His voice was low, gravelly. It didn’t sound like a question.
I didn’t flinch, but I felt my pulse quicken. “Am I?”
He stopped pacing and turned, slowly. The red glow of his lightsaber bled across his face, a sinister painting. “You always were a terrible liar, Astrid.”
I managed a weak smile. “And you always enjoyed playing with fire.”
He didn’t react. Not with a smirk, not with a snarl. Just… nothing. That was worse. That was *always* worse. The lack of response was a slow burn, a deliberate withholding of the very thing I craved. It felt like he was building a wall between us, brick by agonizing brick.
“Annie is learning well,” I said, hoping to steer the conversation towards something… less painful. “She’s starting to anticipate my movements. It’s almost… frustrating.”
Kylo Ren’s eyes flickered towards the training room, where Annie was practicing with a deactivated blaster. “She has potential.”
Potential to be another weapon, another tool in his arsenal. I knew that’s what he meant. I just… wanted to believe she was more than that. I wanted to believe she wasn’t destined to become another casualty of his war.
“Matthew’s getting impatient,” I continued, watching Annie carefully. “He wants to move on to advanced combat simulations. He’s itching for a challenge.”
“Let him,” Kylo Ren said, his voice flat. “Let him feel the weight of his own inadequacy.”
I swallowed hard. That was Kylo Ren’s particular brand of cruelty. Not outright violence, but the slow, deliberate erosion of hope. He didn’t break people with force; he broke them with disappointment.
“General Hux is getting restless,” I added, carefully choosing my words. “He’s questioning the lack of progress.”
Kylo Ren’s jaw tightened. “Hux questions everything.”
“He doesn’t question your authority,” I clarified. “He questions the effectiveness of our… methods.”
Kylo Ren finally moved closer, his shadow looming over me. He stopped inches from my face, the heat of his breath ghosting across my lips. “And what methods are you referring to, Astrid?”
“The ones that involve waiting for Snoke to decide whether or not to vaporize the entire galaxy,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “The ones that involve letting our enemies rebuild while we sit here playing games.”
His eyes narrowed, the red glow intensifying. “You dare to speak to me like this?”
“I dare to speak the truth,” I said, meeting his gaze head-on. “I dare to remind you that we are losing. That every day we waste is another day the Resistance gains ground.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing against my jawline. It was a small gesture, but it sent a jolt of electricity through my veins. I forced myself not to react, not to lean into his touch. I needed to be strong, needed to maintain control.
“You think you understand the stakes,” Kylo Ren said, his voice dangerously soft. “You think you know what it takes to win.”
“I know you’re stalling,” I countered. “You’re waiting for Snoke to give you permission to unleash your full fury. You’re afraid to act without his approval.”
He pulled back, his expression hardening. “You think I fear Snoke?”
“You fear losing control,” I said, pressing my advantage. “You fear being a puppet, a pawn in his game.”
His eyes flashed with anger, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, his silence more menacing than any threat. It was a stalemate, a tense standoff that hung in the air like a loaded weapon.
“Enough,” he finally said, turning away. “Prepare for the next simulation. And Astrid?”
I turned, waiting for his command.
“Don’t presume to understand me.”
His voice was ice. And as he turned and walked away, I knew I'd pushed him too far. It wasn't a matter of *if* he'd break me, but *when*. And I was starting to wonder if I was already shattered beyond repair.