[ He makes this easy, Rey thinks, though she doesn't correct him. Weaponizing intimacy against her only allows her to separate herself, to separate Kylo Ren from Ben Solo in how he has chosen to use affection to instigate pain and instill punishment. That's what this has to be, at least, to her mind; he is too flaccid and too fumbling for it to be a genuine desire to have her like this, or perhaps it's just desperate to provoke a reaction out of her.
It hurts, all the same. Compartmentalizing herself, drifting away as she has learned to do in the three years that she has been alone with herself and her grief, does not lessen the physical sting or the reminder that Rey had wanted this with him — a long time ago, when his promise of not being alone had been soothed her. The sting of his teeth, sharp against the bruising imprint his fingertips left across her throat, allows her to concentrate there instead.
She closes her eyes, unresponsive — even when it looks like she might be, breath pausing only for her to inhale smoothly again. He makes that easy, too, fingers digging into the breast band that covers her chest. Makes it easy to prove her point that having a body does not mean having her. ]
... It won't work.
[ She says, finally, like a ragdoll as her head falls to the side. She should know. She has tried, after all, with herself. With another. Malnutrition has turned her underweight, made her too small and unable to lubricate well. The thought only brings her back to food, the meal he had spilled; despite his claims, she is certain he will be the thing to kill her with misery and neglect, unable to even remember to keep her alive. ]
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It hurts, all the same. Compartmentalizing herself, drifting away as she has learned to do in the three years that she has been alone with herself and her grief, does not lessen the physical sting or the reminder that Rey had wanted this with him — a long time ago, when his promise of not being alone had been soothed her. The sting of his teeth, sharp against the bruising imprint his fingertips left across her throat, allows her to concentrate there instead.
She closes her eyes, unresponsive — even when it looks like she might be, breath pausing only for her to inhale smoothly again. He makes that easy, too, fingers digging into the breast band that covers her chest. Makes it easy to prove her point that having a body does not mean having her. ]
... It won't work.
[ She says, finally, like a ragdoll as her head falls to the side. She should know. She has tried, after all, with herself. With another. Malnutrition has turned her underweight, made her too small and unable to lubricate well. The thought only brings her back to food, the meal he had spilled; despite his claims, she is certain he will be the thing to kill her with misery and neglect, unable to even remember to keep her alive. ]