Gloved fingers tighten around the hilt of his saber, as if he's trying to will himself into action. Escalate, and lash out to satisfy that angry, wounded boy inside of him.
Except that boy's never really satisfied. Even after facing his uncle, he feels no satisfaction, and while the ugliest parts of him would insist it's because Skywalker robbed him of that final, cathartic strike, he has his doubts. He felt nothing in that moment when he thought he'd cut the last of the Jedi down, no relief or release, no healing.
Even after reducing the Resistance to that last, tiny handful of survivors, too stupid and stubborn to die, the victory felt empty. Every time he thinks he's found his purpose, he's still shaken and uncertain.
And now it's no different. He doesn't know if he wants to fight Rey or plead his case to her, to make her understand. Both, perhaps. That tends to be the way of things.
His gaze flickers down to her saber-- Skywalker's-- brows drawing together curiously, as he realizes how strange it is that she'd even have it right now. It should be destroyed. It was destroyed. And yet...
Her blade extinguishes before he can study it further, and Kylo finds himself letting out a breath. Relief, though the feeling doesn't quite register as such just yet. Though uncertain, extinguishes his own lightsaber in return, watching her with apprehension tight in his chest as she approaches--
--and moves past him to the reindire.
Kylo blinks in confusion, then turns to watch Rey try to soothe the vicious creature. Foolish. (Admirable.) Weak. (Brave.)
"That thing is going to try to kill you."
It's hard to say if he's really just talking about the reindire here.
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Except that boy's never really satisfied. Even after facing his uncle, he feels no satisfaction, and while the ugliest parts of him would insist it's because Skywalker robbed him of that final, cathartic strike, he has his doubts. He felt nothing in that moment when he thought he'd cut the last of the Jedi down, no relief or release, no healing.
Even after reducing the Resistance to that last, tiny handful of survivors, too stupid and stubborn to die, the victory felt empty. Every time he thinks he's found his purpose, he's still shaken and uncertain.
And now it's no different. He doesn't know if he wants to fight Rey or plead his case to her, to make her understand. Both, perhaps. That tends to be the way of things.
His gaze flickers down to her saber-- Skywalker's-- brows drawing together curiously, as he realizes how strange it is that she'd even have it right now. It should be destroyed. It was destroyed. And yet...
Her blade extinguishes before he can study it further, and Kylo finds himself letting out a breath. Relief, though the feeling doesn't quite register as such just yet. Though uncertain, extinguishes his own lightsaber in return, watching her with apprehension tight in his chest as she approaches--
--and moves past him to the reindire.
Kylo blinks in confusion, then turns to watch Rey try to soothe the vicious creature. Foolish. (Admirable.) Weak. (Brave.)
"That thing is going to try to kill you."
It's hard to say if he's really just talking about the reindire here.