( The tightness in her chest that manifests in direct relation to the fan of her eyelashes across the dark circles marring the skin below manifests in his own as well, an echoed sentiment that brings the air in lungs down to a scratchy wheeze in his chest, though it doesn't exist as a reality in its own right. Or maybe it does, he can't be certain, as caught up and tangled within one another as they have become both since leaving the mines and before they ever entered them. There is a weight that settles behind his breastbone, stacking on top of itself to pile rocks in the pit of his throat, restrict the flow of that rattling breath that expands and contracts across his chest with every breath that he takes, and Kylo knows what that sensation is without ever having to stop and give it a name.
He doesn't now, and he doesn't bother with the thickness of his tongue and throat in an attempt to answer with any form of immediacy, not trusting himself to gather the conviction required to ensure that his voice does not waver in the wake of her acceptance, her approval. It's a different make and model and of a different caliber than anything Kylo is used to - from the people who had once been his parents, from the Jedi who had once been his uncle, from the shadow that had once been his master - and it rests heavy and burrows deep somewhere within him, a small, burning ember tucked among the blackened coals. His head tips forward in a nod at her acknowledgement, and something not at all like a reciprocated smile touches the corner of his mouth - more a grimace or a wince than anything overtly pleasant - and falls again as the heat of the fire rinses his face and a particularly loud pop draws his attention from the contours of her own, the bright ring of amber that eclipses the kaleidoscope of brown and green made darker by firelight.
Kylo doesn't follow the line of her sight up into the stars but stays attached to the fire until its brightness forces him to look away, out beyond the hills that she points to once he catches sight of her movement out of the corner of his eye. His initial response is little more than a grunt, flexing his fingers around the bandaging on his thigh, digging the pad of his thumb into a point just outside the radius of the wound, testing it. It's hardly pleasant. )
Maybe you should have considered that before lighting it on fire. ( There's no real heat behind his tone; if anything, despite evidence to the contrary, he sounds like he might be teasing her. Even so, Kylo can't deny that the suggestion has merit, as little as he wants to spend even a night lying on the ground, though sleeping in one of the cramped bunks on board the ship sounds just as appealing. ) We can pull a door off of one of the buildings and attach something to drag it with, make it somewhat easier on ourselves, considering - ( He gestures between the both of them, a vague indication toward Rey's ribs and his own leg. Dragging or propelling the smoldering remains of Aurren Ren via the Force seems like a waste of energy when the two of them together should be able to pull whatever is left of him behind them with less fanfare. As unenthusiastic as he is about spending what might amount to longer than one standard cycle on this moon, Kylo has to concede her point: neither of them are in any shape to do anything other than sit down, as much as Kylo might like to insist otherwise. )
I'm less comfortable leaving our only method of transport unattended, but there doesn't seem to be an overwhelming amount of alternative choices to be made. ( In the interest of speeding their production along and also limiting the chances of something else less productive, more quiet and subdued, from occurring, Kylo plants his hands in the dirt and rises ungainly to his feet. There is no room or place for pretense between them, not anymore. It's pride and duty that pushes him forward now. ) I'd rather get it over and done with, wouldn't you?
( He extends a hand in the interest of pulling her to her feet. )
no subject
He doesn't now, and he doesn't bother with the thickness of his tongue and throat in an attempt to answer with any form of immediacy, not trusting himself to gather the conviction required to ensure that his voice does not waver in the wake of her acceptance, her approval. It's a different make and model and of a different caliber than anything Kylo is used to - from the people who had once been his parents, from the Jedi who had once been his uncle, from the shadow that had once been his master - and it rests heavy and burrows deep somewhere within him, a small, burning ember tucked among the blackened coals. His head tips forward in a nod at her acknowledgement, and something not at all like a reciprocated smile touches the corner of his mouth - more a grimace or a wince than anything overtly pleasant - and falls again as the heat of the fire rinses his face and a particularly loud pop draws his attention from the contours of her own, the bright ring of amber that eclipses the kaleidoscope of brown and green made darker by firelight.
Kylo doesn't follow the line of her sight up into the stars but stays attached to the fire until its brightness forces him to look away, out beyond the hills that she points to once he catches sight of her movement out of the corner of his eye. His initial response is little more than a grunt, flexing his fingers around the bandaging on his thigh, digging the pad of his thumb into a point just outside the radius of the wound, testing it. It's hardly pleasant. )
Maybe you should have considered that before lighting it on fire. ( There's no real heat behind his tone; if anything, despite evidence to the contrary, he sounds like he might be teasing her. Even so, Kylo can't deny that the suggestion has merit, as little as he wants to spend even a night lying on the ground, though sleeping in one of the cramped bunks on board the ship sounds just as appealing. ) We can pull a door off of one of the buildings and attach something to drag it with, make it somewhat easier on ourselves, considering - ( He gestures between the both of them, a vague indication toward Rey's ribs and his own leg. Dragging or propelling the smoldering remains of Aurren Ren via the Force seems like a waste of energy when the two of them together should be able to pull whatever is left of him behind them with less fanfare. As unenthusiastic as he is about spending what might amount to longer than one standard cycle on this moon, Kylo has to concede her point: neither of them are in any shape to do anything other than sit down, as much as Kylo might like to insist otherwise. )
I'm less comfortable leaving our only method of transport unattended, but there doesn't seem to be an overwhelming amount of alternative choices to be made. ( In the interest of speeding their production along and also limiting the chances of something else less productive, more quiet and subdued, from occurring, Kylo plants his hands in the dirt and rises ungainly to his feet. There is no room or place for pretense between them, not anymore. It's pride and duty that pushes him forward now. ) I'd rather get it over and done with, wouldn't you?
( He extends a hand in the interest of pulling her to her feet. )