We'll see, won't we? [ I thought there may have been a chance we could have helped each other— it's a slip, sneaking right through a crack Kylo himself likely made in her own mental fortress, pursing her lips together tightly once the realization dawns that she's let him hear. Rey isn't convinced; light and dark are too finite, too absolute to make any sort of logical sense to her, a person urged by too many of the traits the Jedi way seems unsuitable, dangerous. She knows too how much he struggles. Kylo Ren may have tenuously mastered shielding that flicker of light away from his master, but she'd seen his face the day he'd murdered his father with his own hands and had suffered through the aftermath, all burnt edges and frayed emotion, raw, unstable power bathed in the red glow of his lightsaber.

She watches him for another long moment, tempted to take off running without another word ( convinced even further that he won't pursue her ) but tilts her chin upwards instead, looking past that mask and letting him know she is. ] You straddle that line. You thought you'd pushed above and beyond it but you're still there, even worse now, grating at you when you aren't looking. You aren't who you think you are.

[ Another pause; she's shifting into risky territory now, and then she lifts an arm straight out in front of her, summoning her saber from it's holster, turned horizontal in her palm and clearly neither defensive or offensive, keeping it off : ] And you haven't paid attention to history, Kylo Ren. The role model you so hope to be turned to the good side at the end, for your uncle and your mother. Or have you forgotten?

[ She makes no move to threaten or shift into a sparring position, holding his gaze through the dulled sheen of his helm, nearly daring. ]