kylocanyounot:

Kylo didn’t even have his saber anymore, having lost it lodged in some piece of the hallway. Sparks and shards of steel and plastic and glass were everywhere, as well as a trail of smeared and dropped blood that led to a shaking, screaming Kylo who stopped and turned at Techie’s voice.

His eyes were wild, scared, and deeply wounded, and his blood speckled and tear stained face was a raging snarl. “Run. Away.” He didn’t want him to see this, this ugliness he couldn’t control anymore.

Though terror was overwhelming every nerve of Techie’s body, he took a few more staggering steps towards Kylo, hands held up placatingly despite his instinct to ball them up and sprint away. When he spoke it was with a voice too small, too quiet, too trembling; clearing his throat and trying again, Techie said, “N-No. I’m not leaving you.”

Every inch closer to the beast-like Kylo got heavier, harder to take. But he’d do it. Techie would trust Kylo not to hurt him, his Kylo, even if he was a fucking moron to do it. “I’m here for y-you,” he whispers, sincere, eyes watering up. They were close enough to touch, now.