[He chokes on a deep inhale that turns to a hiccup, tears stinging the corner of his eyes from the pressure that digs deeper into his skull. The pain of it brings him to his knees. The next scrape of his memory delivers to her the pair of shining gold vintage Corellian dice, clutched in the hands of a younger Ben with a room that is cold and dark.
There are tears in his eyes then too. He's holding those dice like his life depends on it, before they suddenly seem to crumble to dust. Something in that dark snarls, and the figure of a younger Ben Solo suddenly looks more angry than despairing. It ripples, transfers, and suddenly both of them are shoving outward at Kira's suffocating presence.
He is on all fours, sweating through his clothes and wheezing furiously. His shoulders quiver with anger, his hands balled into fists. The Dark is pulsing outward now, slowly growing in a manner which Ben cannot seem to get a hold of.]
no subject
There are tears in his eyes then too. He's holding those dice like his life depends on it, before they suddenly seem to crumble to dust. Something in that dark snarls, and the figure of a younger Ben Solo suddenly looks more angry than despairing. It ripples, transfers, and suddenly both of them are shoving outward at Kira's suffocating presence.
He is on all fours, sweating through his clothes and wheezing furiously. His shoulders quiver with anger, his hands balled into fists. The Dark is pulsing outward now, slowly growing in a manner which Ben cannot seem to get a hold of.]