[Its a scoff of disgust. He can see the tears pricking her eyes and can feel the pressure behind his own. Its -- not as satisfying as he had hoped. In fact, its the opposite. The righteous bite of his fury feels...less, somehow. It brings to bare how much how much he'd absorbed from her and vice versa. How much the bond was really effecting them both.
And it slides over his skin again like oil, this creeping feeling of dread -- that he'd gone too far, let her get too close when he wasn't looking. That he was too invested in her presence, in her skillset, in everything about her. It seemed like such a natural thing, two years ago. A need for an apprentice, to carry on Snoke's teachings. To pass on what he'd learned.
This is different. Why is it different? When did it become different? Why did neither Snoke nor Luke possess this haunting spectre hounding them from the other side? The conflict continues to swirl.]
No. I know its too late.
[That's what he'd said to his father. That's what he had felt from Luke, that night he'd come to kill him. He pulls on those memories now, even as it makes his face go numb, as he blinks hard to hold Rey's tears back. It had taken a long time to understand, but he gets it now. By nature, this would always happen. He would be the one to pull the truth of things to the surface, no matter the cost, at all times. And his willingness to do that made him a monster. That's what history had told him.
That's what all the people he'd ever trusted or believed in had told him. And they were right.]
I know what lies at the end of that road.
[Death. Pain. Betrayal. Consequences. Why did she want to bring him there so badly?]
no subject
[Its a scoff of disgust. He can see the tears pricking her eyes and can feel the pressure behind his own. Its -- not as satisfying as he had hoped. In fact, its the opposite. The righteous bite of his fury feels...less, somehow. It brings to bare how much how much he'd absorbed from her and vice versa. How much the bond was really effecting them both.
And it slides over his skin again like oil, this creeping feeling of dread -- that he'd gone too far, let her get too close when he wasn't looking. That he was too invested in her presence, in her skillset, in everything about her. It seemed like such a natural thing, two years ago. A need for an apprentice, to carry on Snoke's teachings. To pass on what he'd learned.
This is different. Why is it different? When did it become different? Why did neither Snoke nor Luke possess this haunting spectre hounding them from the other side? The conflict continues to swirl.]
No. I know its too late.
[That's what he'd said to his father. That's what he had felt from Luke, that night he'd come to kill him. He pulls on those memories now, even as it makes his face go numb, as he blinks hard to hold Rey's tears back. It had taken a long time to understand, but he gets it now. By nature, this would always happen. He would be the one to pull the truth of things to the surface, no matter the cost, at all times. And his willingness to do that made him a monster. That's what history had told him.
That's what all the people he'd ever trusted or believed in had told him. And they were right.]
I know what lies at the end of that road.
[Death. Pain. Betrayal. Consequences. Why did she want to bring him there so badly?]