( The acoustics of the ship mean that Kylo hears her coming long before she rounds on him, though the only liberty it affords him is time to gather his scattered pieces together into some semblance of order. With the sheet metal twisted as it is, having made the racket that it did, it's unlikely that his outburst will go unnoticed, never mind the fashion in which he had left the hold, but he's less concerned with that in the wake of his behavior on the Finalizer. His reputation for wanton destruction and seemingly random acts of violence had been assigned for a reason, after all.
As such, he's still sitting on the floor when Rey shows her face, knees drawn up and arms extended over them, fingers dangling and hands relaxed though they throb with the memory of how tightly wound they'd been. One more than the other. The pain is not instructional or useful in this case, and as a result Kylo finds it more annoying than anything. For a number of reasons but not least of all what it says about his own perception of himself than anything else. Reflection on that is as useless as the pain he feels, however, and he's almost appreciative of Rey's appearance as it detracts from the overall task of examining himself and his myriad failures and inadequacies while he sits on the vibrating floor and tries to get a grip on himself, like a child coming down from a tantrum.
Kylo meets her eyes as they sweep from the loose puckering of the wall and skip down to him, casting his own gaze in turn from the flat of her dirty boots on the metal grating underfoot and up past her knees to her midsection and beyond, until he arrives at her face and determines that he likes what he sees there about as much as she likes what she sees in him. There's no denying that she is not wholly repulsive as far as appearances go, though, and he can't deny that he'd been drawn to her in more ways than he cared to count from the moment she resisted him right up to and beyond the hand she'd offered him on Corellia. But listening to her voice rumble out from somewhere deep down and brimming with conviction, despite the nature of her approach, he's left wondering how much time remains until he turns and bites the hand that she's extended toward him, how long until he proves her doubts and suspicions right. It's inevitable, as Leader Snoke might say. )
If your vision proves to be correct - ( He clambers ungracefully and awkwardly to his feet, leaning the top half of his back and the breadth of his shoulders against the cool wall behind him. Eyes that are nearly black with the shadow from the corridor that eclipses them close the distance between them with far more ease than his legs and torso could hope to manage, and the wall soothes the heat from his skin until all that's left is stale sweat. ) - you will be alone. ( Kylo keeps his voice neutral despite the threat laced within it. They all think so little of him, despite what he's done. Vader, Luke, his mother and father. He'll never amount to their achievements despite the pressure placed on him to carry the mantle by name alone. What she's suggested is merely the most logical outcome, though he does not intend to take it lying down. ) But not yet. ( He cracks a smile, all teeth and not nice, and it fades around the formation of his next curiosity. ) How close are we to Mandalore? I'll help you bring the ship out of hyperspace, and then I should take the gunner seat.
( Not just because a surprise attack might be waiting for them, but because it might be beneficial to keep some distance between them until they're off the ship and out of space. )
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As such, he's still sitting on the floor when Rey shows her face, knees drawn up and arms extended over them, fingers dangling and hands relaxed though they throb with the memory of how tightly wound they'd been. One more than the other. The pain is not instructional or useful in this case, and as a result Kylo finds it more annoying than anything. For a number of reasons but not least of all what it says about his own perception of himself than anything else. Reflection on that is as useless as the pain he feels, however, and he's almost appreciative of Rey's appearance as it detracts from the overall task of examining himself and his myriad failures and inadequacies while he sits on the vibrating floor and tries to get a grip on himself, like a child coming down from a tantrum.
Kylo meets her eyes as they sweep from the loose puckering of the wall and skip down to him, casting his own gaze in turn from the flat of her dirty boots on the metal grating underfoot and up past her knees to her midsection and beyond, until he arrives at her face and determines that he likes what he sees there about as much as she likes what she sees in him. There's no denying that she is not wholly repulsive as far as appearances go, though, and he can't deny that he'd been drawn to her in more ways than he cared to count from the moment she resisted him right up to and beyond the hand she'd offered him on Corellia. But listening to her voice rumble out from somewhere deep down and brimming with conviction, despite the nature of her approach, he's left wondering how much time remains until he turns and bites the hand that she's extended toward him, how long until he proves her doubts and suspicions right. It's inevitable, as Leader Snoke might say. )
If your vision proves to be correct - ( He clambers ungracefully and awkwardly to his feet, leaning the top half of his back and the breadth of his shoulders against the cool wall behind him. Eyes that are nearly black with the shadow from the corridor that eclipses them close the distance between them with far more ease than his legs and torso could hope to manage, and the wall soothes the heat from his skin until all that's left is stale sweat. ) - you will be alone. ( Kylo keeps his voice neutral despite the threat laced within it. They all think so little of him, despite what he's done. Vader, Luke, his mother and father. He'll never amount to their achievements despite the pressure placed on him to carry the mantle by name alone. What she's suggested is merely the most logical outcome, though he does not intend to take it lying down. ) But not yet. ( He cracks a smile, all teeth and not nice, and it fades around the formation of his next curiosity. ) How close are we to Mandalore? I'll help you bring the ship out of hyperspace, and then I should take the gunner seat.
( Not just because a surprise attack might be waiting for them, but because it might be beneficial to keep some distance between them until they're off the ship and out of space. )