[ 'Alive' is a term he chooses to use loosely. Kylo feels him shift and move, the familiar rustling of divested clothing items a familiar sound in the near-deafening silence. He's aware of Hux's habits, the unwavering dedication to neatness and order no matter the situation; which lent itself to several interesting moments in their times together.
Now, however, it serves as a strange sort of comfort. Another rustle, and Hux lies beside him. Kylo doesn't turn his head, well aware of Hux's thoughts, the fact that he's barely holding himself together. Perhaps it is kindness that he does not seek to look at him -- although he would deny such a failing. Perhaps it's something else entirely. He hears those words, soft and tired, and he feels something in him twist just a little.
He must have strength, and courage to continue. He had done what was asked of him, he had passed the test. Han Solo is no more; and with that bane removed, with --
-- he swallows the inexplicable lump in his throat. No, these emotions belonged to a younger, more foolish him. It's time he buried them with the man he killed. Even if the seeds of doubt had been sown with Snoke's intentions for Kylo, he fights to continue. A great destiny still awaits, for him and for Hux. He senses the resignation in the question leveled at him, the weariness. He knows what Starkiller meant to the general, how a part of him must have died at its destruction. ]
Han Solo is dead. [ Hux doesn't need to clarify for Kylo to know exactly what he means. The words are even, forced to be neutral. ] But the girl and her band of thieves and traitors escaped. [ His healing wound throbs dully, and he glances at Hux very briefly. He resists the strange desire to put his hand over his, but he lets their fingers brush, wordlessly close.
This is not something either of them should think too deeply about, either. ] We have not yet lost. [ He hesitates, before he asks, low and quiet. ] Were you hurt?
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momijizukamori
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Date: 2016-02-15 03:33 pm (UTC)Now, however, it serves as a strange sort of comfort. Another rustle, and Hux lies beside him. Kylo doesn't turn his head, well aware of Hux's thoughts, the fact that he's barely holding himself together. Perhaps it is kindness that he does not seek to look at him -- although he would deny such a failing. Perhaps it's something else entirely. He hears those words, soft and tired, and he feels something in him twist just a little.
He must have strength, and courage to continue. He had done what was asked of him, he had passed the test. Han Solo is no more; and with that bane removed, with --
-- he swallows the inexplicable lump in his throat. No, these emotions belonged to a younger, more foolish him. It's time he buried them with the man he killed. Even if the seeds of doubt had been sown with Snoke's intentions for Kylo, he fights to continue. A great destiny still awaits, for him and for Hux. He senses the resignation in the question leveled at him, the weariness. He knows what Starkiller meant to the general, how a part of him must have died at its destruction. ]
Han Solo is dead. [ Hux doesn't need to clarify for Kylo to know exactly what he means. The words are even, forced to be neutral. ] But the girl and her band of thieves and traitors escaped. [ His healing wound throbs dully, and he glances at Hux very briefly. He resists the strange desire to put his hand over his, but he lets their fingers brush, wordlessly close.
This is not something either of them should think too deeply about, either. ] We have not yet lost. [ He hesitates, before he asks, low and quiet. ] Were you hurt?