reyofsunshine | IC inbox

Rey's shoulders hunch in equal parts embarrassment and dismay. Does he really not get it? She thought he'd understand, but clearly having so many fine things himself has made it impossible for him to realize why others aren't suited to them. Rey could kick herself for even bringing it up in the first place.

"Just... me," she replies, obviously exasperated. She looks down at the robe again, which is now twinkling much less brightly, and shakes her head.

"Forget it. It isn't important."

He most certainly is not going to forget it.

"The only reason it wouldn't 'match you' is if you didn't like it."

Sure, he can admit it might take adjusting to, being a nobody from nowhere with nothing to suddenly have nice things and be noticed. But it's not as if change is impossible. Seeing her cling to that identity just makes him want to shatter the idea into pieces. If only it were so easy.

He can try, anyway.

"Do you still think so little of yourself?" he asks, leaning forward, resting his forearms against the table.

She looks up again immediately after his question, clearly surprised. That's much closer to the truth than she suspected he understood, which has... different implications for all of his questions. Rey's not entirely ready to explore those implications, at least not without more information, but she can't help the handful of sharp, bright twinkles that reflect off the cloak.

"I don't," she says, though it doesn't feel quite like the right answer to his question, so she elaborates.

"I just—I know where I fit. What I am. I have pride in that, I do, but." But a scavenger's pride isn't worth all that much, isn't it? Rey swallows, and her eyes dart away from his.

"I know what I'm not. Liking something doesn't change that."

To Kylo it doesn't seem much like pride at all. All he can see is her clinging to the past like a security blanket, staying under its comfort despite the obvious advantages of leaving it behind.

"You're not chained to what you were before," he replies, an almost earnest look in his eyes despite the furrow in his brow.

"You can change. Be more than just a scavenger. You already are, you just don't see it."

Rey keeps her eyes averted... until his last sentence.

Being told she could be more sounds honestly like wishful thinking. On her part or Kylo's, she's not sure. She thinks maybe they have different ideas of that "more" he says she could be, anyway. But it's a very different thing, she decides, to be told she already is more than she thinks she is, and by someone so obviously special and important himself to boot. For a moment Rey looks back at him with an unguarded, surprised affection before she drags her eyes away, swallowing when she realizes her face must be turning red. The robe twinkling so brightly it looks almost like sparks doesn't help.

"I didn't tell you why I picked that day for my birthday," she says softly.

"It was because I thought if there was any day where I could just pretend I wasn't nothing, that I was somebody important, it would've been that day. I have two of those days now, I guess."

It strikes him in a way that he can't quite define, when she explains her reasoning. In a way he can't relate to it, having always been aware of the power he's had and the things he's capable of. But in others, he does understand. In his mind, he's been discarded just as she was, made to feel unimportant. The difference between them is that Rey accepted it as truth and Kylo refused to believe it.

Certainly in a way she might seem like "nothing," a scavenger from a dead planet in the middle of nowhere, with no past connections to anyone who means anything. But she's already proven herself to be something. She proved that the moment she resisted his attempts to get the map, even if now there's so much more to it than that.

Even if she's turned her gaze away, Kylo keeps his eyes on her, trying to lean in a way that will catch her attention.

"You don't have to pretend."

And catch her attention he does. Not that at any point he didn't have her attention—Rey is always exceedingly aware of that intense gaze when he's looking at her—but tilting his head to put his face a small but very noticeable amount closer to her own does succeed in getting her to meet his eyes again.

Rey opens her mouth to reply to him, but she can't think of anything to actually say, so she just closes it again and swallows thickly. What is she meant to say to that, really? What do normal people say in response to things like this? Do these things even happen to normal people? Part of Rey suspects not, but it's unexpectedly hard to think clearly when staring into a pair of terribly sincere brown eyes belong to a person saying things like that in that voice with his face at most a foot away.

"Your voice sounds so nice when you say things like that."

And then she realizes what she's said, and she nearly averts her eyes again before moving them back to his. There's no point in looking away if he's just going to move so she can see him, despite her embarrassment.

"I mean—thank you. For saying it. I appreciate it."

Edited (wehhhhhhhh) 2018-01-31 06:08 (UTC)

Kylo doesn't seem to know how to respond for a moment, straightening up slightly and a hesitant, curious look in his eyes. Compliments always seem so... out of place when they're directed towards him, even after all this time with people who might reasonably be expected to give them to him. In a way, it's almost uncomfortable.

He clears his throat, his own gaze flicking away just for a moment as well, but he shakes his head to dismiss the thanks as unneeded.

"It's true." That's the only reason he's saying it. Obviously. ~~It's not like there are feelings involved or anything.~~

Uhh, anyway. To distract from the current topic for both of their sakes, Kylo turns his attention to the other unopened box and moves it towards her with one hand.

"A tradition for birthdays here," he mumbles vaguely, as if it will explain that there's a cupcake inside before she opens it.

Her brow creases at his reaction. It's oddly easy to forget that Kylo doesn't get positive attention too often—the reasons he should are so obvious to Rey she assumes others must see them too. Maybe they do. Maybe they just make the same mistake of thinking that everyone else will be the ones to say it, and the result is that no one ever does. She feels a pang of sadness about that, but before she can even begin to address it, Kylo's moved on and pushed the second box toward her.

Well, in any case, Rey makes a mental note to compliment him more in the future. Even if it's embarrassing. If she's going to be one of the few who do, she owes it to him to pick up the slack for everyone else. Especially after this.

"What I said was true too," she replies simply, gently replacing the robe in its box and reaching for the second gift as an excuse to avert her eyes and maybe preserve some of her dignity. And without waiting for any sort of response, Rey opens the smaller box and is immediately distracted by what's inside.

"Oh! It's a little cake!"

The cake itself is pink in color, although Rey won't know that means it's strawberry flavored, and it's decorated with a simple swirl of white icing and a few flower-shaped sprinkles. It's not exactly a custom thing, just a suggestion from the bakery he'd visited to get something for her, but it's nice enough to look at.

"I don't know what you like," Kylo admits somewhat lamely. He's... fairly certain that anything with any amount of taste in it will be nice in her book, but on the other hand, it could be that some flavors are too strong because of what she's used to. Even if he doesn't know the details of what exactly she ate back on Jakku, he doubts it was any better than First Order rations.

... well, he just has to hope. It's not like he'll have to wait that long.

Rey can't help laughing at Kylo's awkward disclaimer. "Liking" food is still so new to her that the very thought of receiving such a treat and rejecting it is hilariously unthinkable.

"If it's half as good as it looks it'll be delicious," she says quickly, so he doesn't start thinking she's laughing at him. She takes a chance and leans forward a bit to place her hand over his, the one he'd used to shove the cake toward her, closing the distance between them again back to where it was when he was trying to get her attention.

"You know me. I trust you to know what I'd like."

Edited (i spell steambucks as steampunks every time and i ruined my own joke so i had to fix it) 2018-02-18 22:02 (UTC)

Kylo can't help but turn to look away with the combination of her comments and the hand on his own, and though his fingers curl in slightly, he doesn't pull away. The most he does is bring his shoulders up slightly, as if to defend himself against the sheepishness. (It doesn't work.)

Really, the main thing to it is the declaration that he knows her. Even though he's aware that he knows her better than most people, logically, oftentimes he still doesn't feel like he knows enough. He can't predict what she'll think or what she'll do. It makes him uncertain, especially with more personal things like gifts.

He presses his lips together and mumbles a response.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

In all fairness, Rey can rarely predict herself. Then again, she doesn't exactly try. She acts on impulses, and she doesn't particularly care to change that about herself. It hasn't led her too astray so far.

Rey watches Kylo turn his face away, and a part of her heart aches to see him so unwilling to accept affection even after what he's done for her. Why does he keep hiding? What does she have to do to make her feelings clear to him? To make him see that he's good enough to deserve those feelings?

She doesn't think, she just acts... and closes the small amount of distance left between them to give him a quick peck on the cheek. It's his unscarred one, she notes idly, which is probably good. Kissing the side she sliced open seems odd. ~~Though also somehow appealing...?~~ She doesn't even wait until she's fully pulled away before she answers his question, so the first few words end up murmured an inch or two from his face.

"For you to stop hiding."

There's a twitch in his face after Rey starts to pull away, and all trace of the sheepishness from before disappears as his expression goes blank, a low ringing sounding in the air as if they'd suddenly gone deaf for a moment.

Kylo struggles to stop himself from thinking or feeling much of anything, already far too aware of the dangers in the direction any of them could go. It's because of that—and trying against Rey's request to hide the turmoil he's sure he can't keep from his eyes—that he can't bring himself to look at her, hoping for the briefest of moments that he can pretend things haven't come this far. He doesn't want to think about yet another person he's come to care for like this returning to detesting him back home, even if he won't remember it himself. And that's... without the other complications, as if there weren't enough in the first place.

But already it's too late to pretend. It doesn't mean he has any idea of how to deal with the situation, however; his mouth parts slightly in a subconscious desire to try, but his uncertainty stops any words from leaving him as his eyes flick downwards.

Rey hasn't even pulled fully away before she can tell that something is wrong.

She wasn't expecting Kylo to be happy, at least no more than he ever looks overly happy when she shows any affection for him. But he usually seems grudgingly pleased, like she's fulfilling a desire he desperately doesn't want to admit that he has.

This isn't grudgingly pleased. Or pleased at all, maybe. Rey's brow creases in concern, and a non-small amount of confused dread flickers through her eyes. Still, she refuses to draw back completely or take her hand off his. She doesn't want to lose that connection unless she has to.

"Kylo?" she says uncertainly, her voice echoing oddly in her ears around that odd, awful ringing. She curls her fingers around his much larger hand, hoping to get attention again somehow but afraid to do much more.

It's not terribly often that he's at a loss for words when he's reaching for them—either he simply has nothing to say or would much rather show rather than tell—but with Rey it seems to be a frequent occurrence. Perhaps it wouldn't be if she didn't keep being the source of such confusing, difficult feelings, both in the sense of emotions and otherwise.

Kylo doesn't pull his hand away either, not wanting to push her away despite the small thought that he should, but there's a certain anxiety in his gaze when his eyes meet hers, when she questions him. His jaw trembles as he stares at her, knowing he has to say something. But still nothing comes to him.

Something's changed, Rey realizes, and she doesn't think it was for the better. Rather, it feels like she's broken something, something that was terribly precious but far, far more fragile than she ever thought. The dread in her expression grows steadily closer to alarm and mild panic the longer his silence persists, and she drags her eyes from his face to glance miserably down at the cloak he gave her.

He told her she was more than a scavenger. He said she didn't have to pretend she was important. He insisted she shouldn't think so little of herself. She thought she was just responding to that, but she sees the truth now.

She doesn't blame him for saying that when clearly now it's proven to be untrue. He was obeying the rules of the game. He understood the rules. No, she blames herself for buying into her stupid fantasies. She slipped up and for a brief, idiotic moment, she actually believed she was more than a scavenger.

But Rey will always be a scavenger. And Kylo will always be the child of heroes, blood of legends, and everything she's not. Fortunately, Rey's years as a scavenger have taught her how to repair broken things. She snatches her hand away from his, deciding maybe it'll be easier if they just ignored what happened—and hopefully he'll ignore the sand she's left behind on his hand—and picks up the cupcake to shove half the thing in her mouth.

"It's good," she mumbles automatically around a mouthful of cake.

Kylo sees that retreat for what it is, and his hand twitches around the place where her hand once was, temperature plummeting around them as he realizes what his reaction has done to her. His inner conflict was meant to be for him to deal with alone, and he can't stand the thought of it hurting her as well.

His mouth thins into a determined line. He has to make her understand—but he doesn't know if that will make this better or worse. He just has to hope the truth is the best path, and secrets have never helped him, anyway.

"Rey," he finally manages, not allowing her attempt at a distraction to stop him from cutting into the heart (hah) of the matter.

"I've been stupid," is what tumbles out after another moment, and he tries to reach for either of her hands again. It's a great start.

Rey looks back up at him as soon as he says her name, and the expression on his face is enough of a distraction to let him take hold of one of her hands, though she flinches the slightest amount when he does. It hurts more than it should, to have him reach for her now after the line in how far he's willing to pretend has been so clearly drawn, and Rey knows going back won't be easy. But she isn't sure what else she can do at this point without losing him, and she doesn't ever want to lose Kylo. Hopefully this is him volunteering to fix things. Make the rules more clear. It'll be easier when she knows what the rules are.

She drops her eyes again, schooling her expression into calmness and away from the fearful sort of longing she felt her face take on when she looked at him, and takes her time chewing and swallowing the cake.

"I understand," she says stiffly. "It's okay, you don't have to explain."

"No," he says, more quickly this time. "That's not—I need you to listen."

He closes his hand around hers, keeping it in a firm grip—one that says he has no intention of letting go.

"I didn't realize how I felt until now," he says, though for the moment he still hesitates to voice what exactly he means—fearing that maybe he's misinterpreted her feelings somehow, since it's not like that would be terribly new. He looks at her beseechingly, wanting to confirm he's not being even more stupid than he thought.

"You... feel it too, don't you?" he asks softly, for fear his voice might betray him even more than everything else is. Because there's definitely a point to that.

~~Why is confessing even harder now??~~

And then all at once Rey doesn't know what's happening anymore.

She can't tell what's pretending and what's not. What's the game and what isn't. ~~Or if there even is a game??~~ All she can do is stare into Kylo's terribly, awfully sincere brown eyes and try to decide if she's allowed to reach out and accept what's been offered or if it's just an incredibly tempting bait.

Replying verbally feels like too much of a gamble, especially after the reaction her last impulsive action got, but responding negatively or not at all would be far, far worse. And anyway, Rey's mouth feels so dry right now she doesn't think anything she said would sound halfway intelligent. So in the end she just nods, forcing herself to make the movement slow and deliberate. If she's going to be taking the safe way (the coward's way, her mind supplies) she should at least do him the favor of making her wordless gesture as clear as she can.

Ren realizes how ridiculous this runaround is, and he has to scoff at himself. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, gathering himself and shoving down his nerves until he can force himself to be straight with her like he wants to be. The atmosphere around him returns to normal, relatively, as he takes a slow breath.

"It's unlike me not to just say it," he remarks, attempting to add a bit of humor into the situation with a wry half-smirk. He's prided himself on being honest, at least when those around him give him the same courtesy, and Rey has been open with him for... a long time, he realizes.

"I care about you. Not like anyone else," are the words that are as close as he can get to his feelings. "And I'm not going to pretend otherwise."

Still, there's a hesitation that comes to his earnest look that implies there's a but coming.

Rey can feel that but coming, and it already stings before it's even left his mouth. It was bait after all, and as soon as he gets to the but the trap will spring, and she'll be left with pain and empty promises that turn out to be nothing more than things she told herself to make herself feel loved.

Ah well, if she's headed for a trap, she may as well make it worth the trouble.

Rey brings her other hand to meet the one he has gripping hers and gently pulls his hand to her own face, lightly holding his warm, leather-clad knuckles against her cheek. It's likely a gesture he'll find odd, but it's strangely comforting, especially when she knows it's also likely to be taken away soon, and Rey closes her eyes for a moment to savor it.

"I know," she replies, breaking her silence at last. But she isn't stopping there.

"You make me feel like I could be someone important. Someone special. I hope I do the same thing for you. You deserve as much."

Under normal circumstances, these would all be horrifically embarrassing things to admit, but now it feels like it could be her last chance, and she thinks she'll probably regret not saying them. Keeping her eyes closed helps, at least.

"And I meant what I said. About you knowing me. And—what I said about your voice, too. It matches your eyes."

Odd or not, he has no argument—whatever Rey needs to do for her to stay and listen, he has little issue with. If her grip allows it, he'll gladly uncurl his hand to rest properly against the side of her face.

A part of him wants to ask how a voice can match eyes, but he fears if he gets off topic now he'll never get around to admitting what he needs to. So instead he acknowledges it with a quiet thank you, not wanting her to think he's not listening, or rejecting any of what she's saying.

But he has to stop stalling by staring at her face eventually, and so he takes a steadying breath, the air stilling around them.

"There's someone else I care about too. Not the same," he clarifies, because nothing about the two of them is the same, really, and he couldn't possibly compare them. "But important. Like you."

Because she is important, and special, and all of those things, and Kylo needs her to know that. Even if the rest of the galaxy just considers her a scavenger, he knows she's more than that. She deserves to know it, too, instead of just believing it a few moments at a time.

"I don't want to hurt him. Or you." He refuses to let her to think of herself as somehow lesser, like her pain is preferable to someone else's. It was really just... a matter of timing, the difference in his feelings. As if to point out the sincerity of those feelings, several red-leafed velvety plants curl out of the ground under their feet, bright against the grass.

"I don't want to give up either of you."

He can only imagine what the other man's reaction might be, but he thinks out of the two of them... Rey is the one strong enough to take the truth up front. And he doesn't want to string her along with any mistaken assumptions just because he's a coward.

Rey's eyes open as soon as he moves his hand to hold his gloved palm to her face, a bit of surprise behind her expression. She was using him to comfort herself for the inevitable impending pain. She wasn't expecting him to actually participate. But now that he has, she can't help leaning ever so slightly into the warmth of his hand. It's stupid, particularly when she still thinks she knows what's coming, but if it's her last chance to feel this she may as well take advantage.

The first few things that Kylo says only confirm her fears, and she looks away, scrunching her nose to keep tears from forming in her eyes. She knows where this is going. He has someone else, someone he wants more, someone he wants differently, and he doesn't want her enough to jeopardize what he has with that someone else, despite his earlier confession. Why would he? She's nobody. She'll always be nobody.

Everything goes as she predicted... until the end. Rey looks up the instant those last words leave his mouth, her eyes wide and unsure. For a moment she isn't sure she heard him right. But no, he really did say either of you. The keyword there being you.

"You don't want to give me up," she says softly, hardly daring to believe what she's saying. ~~Or let her down. Or run around and desert her.~~

The gold cloak in the box glitters brightly, almost sparking. And then it spreads to the table and down to the ground—little sharp flashes like a particularly bright light is catching unseen reflective bits in the wood or dirt.

"You still want me. And him. I thought—you aren't pushing me away."

Edited (waves hands at dialogue) 2018-03-08 14:04 (UTC)

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trudges in a week late with steambucks

takes the steambucks and drinks the whole cup while making direct eye contact with you

sweats

dominance established

i wanted that steambucks........

well too bad bc i drank it

:T...!

>8D

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