WARNING: This chapter covers mentions of Rey's past abuse (Plutt being disgusting to a minor, really) that may be triggering to some. Please proceed carefully.

When she finally hears his breath even out, feels it gently ghosting over her cheeks as it pushes out of a too-big frame in hot, long exhales, Rey opens her eyes. He's dipped in darkness, the only light source the moon behind his head as it lights up his impossibly shiny hair in an icy halo. Rey blinks, breathing shallow air to keep from disturbing him while her vision adjusts. One by one, his features become discernible. His strong cheekbones, long nose, oddly angular chin. His impossibly long, thick lashes and his wide pout parted lightly as his body works on bringing in air.

Rey bites her lower lip, the words he'd practically shouted at her that afternoon playing on loop in her mind, a barrage of doubts crashing into her as she examines the tiny moles that dust his face.

It had taken all of her composure not to start crying right in front of him. His accusations had hit too close to home, and yet… from where he stood, all of it had been true, right?

Rey, traipsing across the world in pursuit of her happily ever after while not being given the time of the day by her boyfriend. Sure, there are things he doesn't know: the fact that Rey and Finn's lives had never been perfect, the fact that Finn could not compromise his job because of her recklessness, the fact that Rey had been losing her nerve the longer this nightmare of a trip went on. Still…

Rey lets out a soft sigh, watching Kylo Ren's sleeping face. He looks so young with his guard down. Peaceful. Boyish.

"You just had to go and say those things, didn't you?" she murmurs to herself, both about her accusations and his.

Then something happens she did not expect. Kylo's lashes flutter and his eyes open, and Rey holds her breath, waiting for them to close again. She hadn't intended in waking him up.

They don't. Instead they open to half-mast. She should close her eyes right this moment and pretend to sleep. Getting caught staring would be embarrassing at best, absolutely creepy at worst. Her eyes can't seem to pull away from his as he gives lazy, drunken half-blinks, though. She breathes in quietly and waits for his eyes to unfocus and close.

Instead Kylo lets out a soft puff of breath, a half sigh as he blinks again, his words slow, a deep rumble.

"Decided to haunt me here, too, then?" he murmurs as his eyes survey hers, fall down to her nose, her lips, then back up. "That hardly seems fair."

Rey's eyes widen, her heart stuttering in her chest. Is he… is he awake?

Her immediate desire is to bolt out of bed and run at this stranger telling her she's been haunting him, but she finds herself rooted to her spot, fingers digging into her pillow. Kylo blinks lazily once more and his eyes close a fraction, another puff of hot air hitting her cheeks. His eyes fall closed again and Rey finally breathes.

No. Perhaps he's just sleep talking. Dreaming of somebody else. People had a habit of talking in their sleep sometimes. But the way he'd inspected her face… Rey chews on her lower lip, curiosity getting the best of her.

"Who haunts you?" she murmurs, trying to make her voice a soft whisper so as to not disturb him. His lashes flutter again and he sighs.

"And now you're talking," he says, and a sleepy chuckle escapes him. Rey blinks rapidly, but his eyes remain shut. "With that bell… like… voice."

He seems to be floating back to sleep, but Rey can't stop. It's a twisted thing, her curiosity. But he's asleep, and she barely knows anything about this man. She can't help it.

"A bell?" she whispers, watching as his face scrunches. Then he laughs.

"Yes, a bell, even here in my dreams…" he says, and suddenly Rey realizes what's happening. He's stuck between wakefulness and sleep and he thinks he's dreaming.

"Your bell-like voice… and hazel eyes…" Kylo sighs. She tenses, but oh, he's talking. "And your pouty mouth every time you talk of him…"

Rey frowns.

This is so beyond what this man should be saying to her, but the longer he keeps talking the more curious she gets. He had thought of her eyes? Enough to notice, at least. Kylo rolls his cheek on his pillow, perhaps trying to make himself comfortable, but it only pushes stray locks of hair onto his eyes. Rey licks her lips, torn between wanting to run and wanting to watch him, wanting to hear what he has to say in the quiet of his dreams when his walls are down and he's not angry at her. Would his words change? Or would he still accuse Finn of neglecting her? Would he think her an entitled princess? Rey gently, carefully lifts her fingers and brushes his hair aside, wanting to see his eyes if they open again.

Kylo groans, though. Her fingers had come too close, had touched him too intimately. She tries to withdraw but his hand comes up to cover hers, until it's caged between his fingers and his cheek, and only then does Rey's brain catch up. He's burning.

And of course he'd be burning. He'd stalked outside and stomped around in the rain for twenty minutes after their fight. Rey had gotten glimpses of him out the window, watching him stalk back and forth in a line muttering to himself. She purses her lips and forces herself to relax. This is all feverish talk. Feverish talk and he thinks he's asleep. It would mean nothing in the morning.

"You deserve better," he mutters.

Rey nearly swallows her tongue at the words. "What?" she murmurs again, trying and failing to pull her hand away. He has a surprisingly strong grasp even while sleeping.

"You deserve better," he repeats, his eyes finally opening. They're glassy, as if looking far away.

Rey worries at her lower lip, guilt pooling in her stomach that she's allowing even this much. Guilt that when Kylo says those words a small, treacherous part of her heart agrees. Guilt that it's this man she's touching instead of Finn.

Rey looks away from his eyes, focusing out the window instead, staring at the bright white moon as she lets out a pained sigh.

"What would you know about what I deserve," she says the words in a whisper, like smoke in the air. "You barely know me."

Rey tugs her hand away and he follows it. Before she knows it Kylo has scooted over, and her brain rings in alarm when he lifts himself up and cages her underneath him. He's barely holding himself up, really, but his knees are pinning her legs in place and he's pulled himself up, resting on his elbows. She can't look anywhere but up at him as his raven locks cascade around his head. His eyes are still only barely open, but he's looking at her with an intensity she's not sure any man who is feverish and sleep talking should possess.

"I know enough," he mutters, breath turning hotter as it disturbs the small hairs on her temple. His head starts drooping the same way his lids are and Rey's eyes widen, trying to shift under him, though a perverse side of her still begs to hear what he has to say.

"Do you now?" she asks, their conversations taking place in nothing but whispers and murmurs. Rey wiggles a hand up, placing it on his chest to keep him from crashing on top of her, which she wouldn't put past him. She can feel the taut muscle twitching under velvety skin and has to avert her eyes. Kylo lets out a sleepy 'mmhmmm' as his head moves down, his forehead connecting with her collar bone. Rey lets out a sigh of relief. He's falling asleep again.

He stays there for a moment, and she thinks she's safe to move him back to his side when his lips start moving. She chokes on a breath of air. Kylo, in the meantime, brushes a gentle kiss against the curve of her neck, letting out a soft murmured 'hmhmmm' again. Her breath hitches.

"I know that you should be kissed," he whispers, doing the same thing he just said she should receive, as if to demonstrate his point. His lips are so hot a ridiculous part of her brain, the only part that's now processing stimuli where the rest of her body has frozen, tries to tell her that he could probably burn her. He plants another kiss, the spot only to be caressed by another puff of scorching air escaping his lungs before he moves up slightly.

"I know you should be kissed," he murmurs again, "and held, and protected." His lips travel to her exposed shoulder, and this time when the kiss comes accompanied by parted lips a shock of electricity runs through her.

She should move.

She should run.

She can't make herself do any of those things, except swallow hard and try not to breathe too sharply. Even if she wanted to run, he's now entirely sprawled on top of her, weighing far more than any person should, a boulder made of nothing but muscle and bulk.

"Kylo," she says desperately, the hand now pinned between her chest and his boiling from the absolute furnace that is his body heat. He lets out a soft groan.

"And then you whisper my name," he murmurs, resting his cheek on her shoulder, his breath coming hard against the side of her jaw. His hair is impossibly soft and it tickles her earlobe, but Rey tries her best not to jerk away and bring him to lucidity. "What a cruel…little thing you are…"

His eyes shut again as he brings in air through his nose and out through his mouth, as if trying to come to terms with her cruelty. Rey stares at the ceiling.

This could not be happening.

"I am not cruel," she defends, unsure of whether she's defending herself against a man who's clearly not even self-aware at the moment or against her own heart as it beats desperately out of her chest.

"Hmmmm," Kylo mutters against her, and her heart somehow learns how to do the tango in her chest for a moment when his voice comes hot and low against her skin. She couldn't have ever known what the rumble of his voice in his chest could do to her when it sank into her own. "You are cruel. Your beauty…is cruel… your laugh… is cruel… it's all cruel…even your—" he stops, and Rey splits in two between relief that maybe, maybe he's finally done for good, and frustration at wanting to know the rest. He huffs. "Even your stupidly cute… button nose… is cruel… cruel duckling."

Oh.

Oh if she had any doubts that he was talking about her before, they've been dashed now. He's talking about her, and Rey groans to herself. She tries to push him away gently, but he refuses, his body too leaden-heavy for her. It reminds her of her futile attempts to get him to move back in the hotel room.

Her movements only make him shift, Kylo's gigantic arms moving under her to wrap around her waist, jostling her as if she weighed no more than a feather. Rey feels his lashes flutter against her neck and a yelp dies in her throat. He once again kisses her, this time right where her jaw meets her neck, and she holds back a groan. Still, her stupid body reacts. Her eyes nearly roll back into her head and she has to clench her legs at the unbidden tingling pooling at the junction of her thighs.

"If I were him," Kylo mutters, leaning up again until his nose hovers an inch above hers, eyes barely open and staring at her mouth, "I'd kiss you properly. And never go away…"

He's burning. She can feel his fever radiating off him and he's awake but not, and he's whispering words that by God she had hoped Finn would say even once, and even in his half-gone state this perfect stranger is managing to light up her veins in way that Finn never had.

Finn had always looked at her like she needed to be protected and kissed, but never like this. Never with this intensity. He'd worshipped her as though she were more, yet like a lightning strike, she realizes he had never worshipped her as a woman. She clears her throat, trying to push these thoughts away as her eyes travel from one golden brown eye to another, trying to find even a bit of lucidity. When the words stumble out of her, it's too late.

"You're not my boyfriend," Rey murmurs.

Kylo gives a humorless chuckle as he buries his face into her neck. His voice is dark and mouth-watering and Rey squirms because this is just so very wrong.

"No…" he sighs, "I'm not. I'm just the asshole…"

The whole exchange has taken less than two or three minutes but Rey's not sure her heart valves can keep up with the strain of trying to pump blood this fast.

"You're not an asshole," she stammers, knowing how stupid it is to try and reassure a man who probably would not remember this in the morning. "You're just dreaming."

"Nice dream," he agrees, sagging back into Rey. "You listen to me in this one… remember… you should be kissed properly. And looked after."

She can't help it. She laughs. Why is he fixating on that one thing? It's gone so far past the line of ridiculous that she can't help herself. She decides to play along with his crazy talk.

"You mean like how you would?" she asks, her lips hovering by his ear. Kylo groans.

"Yes," he replies, his head resting on her pillow.

"You're dreaming," she sighs tiredly, "and feverish."

He's probably delirious and only half asleep, but he's not lucid enough to realize he's actually talking. Then she remembers how he'd taken care of her while she had been sick and feverish. She can't remember any of it except sitting up to drink tea, vestigial memories of Kylo telling her to sit up floating in her mind. So Rey frees a hand and carefully, gingerly runs her fingers through his hair once. It's the least she can do, to provide the sick man some comfort.

How strange, she muses, that she has no problem touching Ren when all her life she had jumped through hoops to avoid others. How strange, that she's lying under his weight –– his near naked weight –– and somehow there are no traces of panic or fear. Rey bites her lower lip when he lets out a huff at the fact that her fingers have stopped moving. She resumes the gentle soothing motions.

It's because he'd never try to hurt me.

Deep inside she knows this. Any other time she would have had a panic attack at being grabbed by the shoulders and hauled up, but she'd only glared at him as he'd seethed into her face, barely registering the touch in her own annoyance with the man. And she hadn't missed the way he'd avoided touching any other woman, yet he somehow kept seeking her out tenderly. He'd never hurt her. So Rey keeps running her fingers through his hair.

"You're such a strange man," she muses, tone dropped to a whisper. Kylo grumbles something against her neck and Rey shakes her head. "He does kiss me, you know? And protect me."

She should drop it. Arguing doesn't gain her anything, but every word he says makes her want to defend Finn, even when something itches in the back of her neck that tells her Kylo speaks truth.

"I bet," Kylo grumbles into her neck, nuzzling it, and Rey has to bite hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from squirming again. "Does it make you… happy…duckling?" he murmurs.

She wonders how he can keep up a dream going so long. Rey can barely remember hers, and the few she has are only ever passing, unless they're nightmares.

"Does what make me happy?" she asks, fingers now absentmindedly carding through his hair while she stares at the ceiling. Maybe once he finally went completely under Rey could push him back towards his side, close her eyes, and pretend this never happened. Yeah, that would be a good course of action.

For now she pets the feverish man out of a sense of duty to ease his illness in any way she can. It had been her fault, after all, for leaving him all night with no blankets or dry clothes.

"How he kisses you…" Kylo mumbles, and is that a tiny amount of jealousy she hears? Rey shakes her head and lets out a soft 'hmmmm,' but then really thinks about his question.

"I suppose." she replies after a long moment.

It's not like she didn't enjoy it. But Rey also had nothing else to compare it to, except for one faked-kiss with this very man. Finn's kisses were loving, soft and gentle, adoring in a way that made her feel warm and happy. Kylo chuckles. It reminds her of a growl. She thinks if the devil had a laugh, it might sound like this. Like a man who knows more than he lets on when he chuckles, like it carries with it all the sin in the galaxy.

"You don't…" he says, and this time Kylo's eyes do open. He pushes himself up, and when she inspects them they're still glassy and gone. She wonders if he's like her when she's sick, checking out of reality entirely. Before she can deny his statement, however, he speaks.

"Here…" he mumbles, "Let me teach you."

Her throat closes immediately and Rey throws up her hands to his bare chest to try and push him away, but Kylo lowers himself until his lips gently rest unmoving atop hers. This time she does squirm, but by now she's not entirely sure if it's to dislodge him or to calm the throbbing that's beginning between her legs. Rey lets out a strangled 'Kylo' and that only drives him.

The kiss stops being chaste, and it's not careful or quiet like the one in the living room at dinner time. No, this is the sort of kiss Rey had only seen in movies. The toe-curling kind. Kylo presses himself into her until she's been pushed deep into the mattress and urges her to open up with a groan, suckling on her lower lip, licking at her top one, the softness of his mouth bringing about a whole series of physical reactions Rey had never felt from just kissing. He's an expert at this, and god if this is what it's like when he's asleep then what would it be like when he's awake? Kylo growls into her, finally getting what he wanted, and coaxes her tongue into his mouth so he can suckle it, explores her mouth with his tongue and attempts to devour her as he tugs her closer to him, his breathing and hers hot on each other, and despite her mental alarms screeching…

She closes her eyes.

This sort of kiss is new.

This kiss is all sorts of sinful.

This is not how Finn had ever kissed her, and she's curious. Her mind whites out when Kylo once again groans into her, the rumble reverberating inside of her, against her chest. It's a throaty drag that demands more from her, his mouth on hers doing what she had previously thought was unimaginable; Rey finally gives in and whines for him to stop because if he keeps doing this she might regret her whole existence. She can barely breathe as he brings her lower lip into his mouth and rolls it between his teeth, her back arching of its own accord when he then soothes the spot, sucking gently, before taking her once again until she's breathless.

She's kissing a man that's not her boyfriend and while her brain shouts one thing her body and heart do another, and God above she needs to get out of this bed. When he finally pulls away from her, lips parted and tongue just as the edge of his teeth as he looks down at her now-bruised mouth, Rey has to force herself to steadiness by counting back from one hundred. Their shared breath turns misty between them, fever-pitch heat meeting the cold room air as Rey tries to collect herself. He doesn't miss it, though, the way her pulse pops at her neck and her cheeks flush, the way her nostrils flare and her breathing refuses to simmer down. His lashes flutter, eyes just barely open, before he lets out a satisfied, husky sound.

"There," he mumbles, before his head plops back down on the pillow unceremoniously. "Kissed properly." Then he chuckles to himself as Rey stares at his expression wide eyed. He's officially going under. "Funny… you usually don't stay this long."

His breath steadies back down again, deep lungfuls being drawn in and expelled. She stares, her own chest beating erratically. It takes about five tries to dislodge him without waking him, and by the end of it Kylo's on his back, lying spread-eagle on the bed, with Rey barely managing to keep upright at the foot of it.

Nope.

She could not return to that bed again.

She looks around, starting to feel the chill after basically being roasted alive under Kylo's fever-pitched torso. There's nothing there. Rey runs back to the other room, the room where their clothes are. She grabs a comforter and throws it over her shoulders. The only other thing is his hoody hanging on a peg and she would not wear his clothes and smell his cologne after basically being drowned in the sheer smell of him, spicy and woody and red-hot. Rey grunts her displeasure and decides to walk off her stupid arousal, walking down stairs and roaming the halls and the rooms silently in the darkness as she restarts her count back down from one hundred.

When she wakes up, it's to the smell of coffee.

Rey blinks with bleary eyes and stares at the mug in front of her, the steam wafting up and towards her nose, and she takes in a deep breath before bolting upright. The comforter over her shoulder falls around her lap and she looks at the coffee. She'd fallen asleep with her cheek on the table.

"That's an interesting choice for sleeping," Kylo murmurs from above her. Her eyes snap up to him. He looks exhausted, no doubt still feeling the effects of his fever the previous night as he pops two Tylenol into his mouth from the bottle in front of him and makes a face at his tea, taking a seat across from her.

She blinks, mouth gaping as a collection of memories rush to meet her… his arms around her, his lips on her neck, her shoulder, her jaw… the mindblowing kiss he'd given her the night before. Her brain does a somersault right along with her stomach at the reminder.

"I—" she starts, and he arches an eyebrow. Somehow, he can meet her eyes just fine, but Rey has to avert hers. So she does the only thing she can, which is to grab onto the coffee mug for dear life and drown in it as an excuse not to interact with the man who had had her nearly panting the night before.

"Good morning," he says after gulping down some tea. "Couldn't sleep?"

If you only knew, pal.

"Uhm, no. I woke up and…" Rey starts, then licks her lips, trying to test the waters. "You were mumbling."

"Oh," Kylo says, giving her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you… must have been dreaming."

Understatement of the freaking year!

"You can go up and nap," he says, tilting his head towards the stairs as he surveys her expression. His eyes fall on her lips only to jerk away. "It's not like we have anything to do or anywhere to be today."

Just as she'd guessed, he doesn't remember. Rey takes in a deep breath and nods, turning back to her mug of coffee. Kylo only frowns at some toast he has in front of him. She notices that he set out a second plate with toast for her as well.

Taking care of her even after they fought.

This reminds her of why they'd fought, however, and Rey sighs. She didn't owe him an answer, yet… she owed him something. Rey doubted the kiss he'd given her yesterday was it, but fuck, at least maybe an explanation. If not for Finn's sake then for her own.

"He's a good man," she says around the lip of her mug. Kylo's eyes travel up slowly to meet hers.

He hasn't shaved and she can see the beginnings of a goatee. His hair's in a disarray and he looks a little pale, yet his eyes are sharp and intense and it reminds her a bit too much of the way he'd looked at her the previous night. Her treacherous body tries to rise up to the ocassion so Rey bites down hard on her tongue until it dissipates. Kylo, thankfully, says nothing, leaving her to take a deep breath and strengthen her resolve.

"Finn," she explains. "He's a good man."

"Okay," Kylo says, studying his toast for a moment. It prompts her, some desperate part of her wanting for him to believe her.

"He really is," she offers, "he's kind, and gentle. He would never abandon me here just because he couldn't be assed to come find me…" Rey says. "We can't afford for him to take time off, no matter how much I would have liked him to. I…"

At this she stops. What could she say to defend herself?

"I care for him. He's been there for me through a lot of hardships, even when he didn't need to be. I just…" Rey resists the urge to groan, instead twirling her coffee in her cup with a spoon. "I want to propose, yes. But that's not the only reason I don't turn around and go back. I just… there's my landlord, you see? He…" she clears her throat.

God, this is uncomfortable, and she's sharing more about her past with a total stranger than she'd ever shared with even her friends. But he'd known how to act with her in the bath that one day.

"Yes?" Kylo prompts when she stops too long, and his voice is curiously level. Non-judgemental. Yeah, he might know how to deal with this. At least he wouldn't judge her for it. Maybe him knowing might also explain at least one of the reasons she's so set on getting to Finn. Kylo doesn't push further, so she wraps herself up in courage and continues.

"He used to be my foster father. He wasn't… a pleasant man." Rey says, explaining to him how she'd hidden from Plutt until he left for work because the man had a habit of grabbing at her, trying to pass it off as fatherly affection when he'd squeeze her thigh, or gently tap her ass, and the touches had only become worse the older she'd gotten. The ghosted touches down her chest when throwing an arm over her shoulder. The way he'd pull her in close to his side, swallowing her under his ever-growing girth and his arm. The way he'd plant kisses that lingered too long, or how she would hear him against her shower door, panting, while Rey tried to ignore the sounds and finish washing her hair. She chokes back a whimper and has to look away at the murderous look on Kylo's face, but continues on bravely.

"He was…" she can't continue, so she changes tracks. "Anyway. As soon as I aged out of the system, Finn took me in. We still ended up renting from Plutt because two kids recently aged out could never afford to live in NYC elsewhere… and… well… I'm a freelance photographer. He's a writer. We still don't make enough. As long as I stay away from Plutt, it's not so bad. The apartment's nice and anything that breaks I can fix."

She certainly could do that. She'd spent enough time doing 'the super's work' as New Yorkers called it, but really, it was Plutt's work, fixing broken things in tennants' apartments. A way to pay for her room and board. Still, if she can't get a hold of Finn she'd have to return. Life doesn't stop for marriage proposals. When she finishes they sit there for a long moment in silence.

"You're not going back," Kylo says.

Rey blinks and looks up.

"Excuse me?" she asks, confused. When Kylo speaks again, it's with an authority she hadn't realized he posessed, tone hard and eyes harder, speaking the words as though it meant the matter were closed.

"Even if… Finn, you said his name is? Even if he can't return to Dublin right away, you're not going back to New York on your own."

A/N: This story updates Fridays!