He held out his hand and told her to come to the dark side. The only reason Rey accepted was because she was tired.

Tired of being told she belonged with to the light side. Tired of being told she was good.

She just wanted to be Rey again, like the time her parents were still alive, and the world wasn't complicated. Was that too much to ask for?

So when Kylo Ren held out his hand and called her just that, Rey, she decided to throw it all away and follow him to the ends of the earth. To freedom.

To the dark throne that was waiting for her.

...Goddammit, Rey was just so tired.

He had not expected her to take his hand. He really hadn't.

She shouldn't have. Rey belonged to the rebellion, and Kylo Ren to the dark side. Rey was good. He wasn't.

So why had the so-called "savior of the galaxy" thrown everything away just to be here, in this darkness with him? She had betrayed her friends that would've died for her. Why? For what reward?

Kylo wanted to ask her. But he didn't. Silence suited them best, so he kept quiet. Always quiet.

He let go of her hand as they descended into the shadows. Because she disgusted him, and because Kylo Ren hated her.

He hated her a lot.

For giving him that scar. For being so steady in her gaze when she looked at him. For taking his hand.

Kylo Ren would never forgive her for that. Or himself for offering his hand to her to take.

Now, they were both trapped in this darkness, breathing the same tainted air, walking on the same path to destruction.

And somewhere in that black, she took his hand again.