kesstiel:

Okay but imagine a frantic, exhausted, bleary-eyed Hux as he works himself to the bone trying to gather the shards of the first order and reassemble them. He staggers back to his quarters, knowing that no sleep will come to him, but hoping that if he collapses it will be out of sight of his subordinates. He has come this far with bruises around his neck and an ache behind his eyes for days now, he just needs to make it a few more steps.

He tries to open his door, the numbers on the keypad blurring before him and the red ‘access denied’ that appears and reappears in small flashes leaves him dumbfounded for a moment before he tries again. And again. Once more, but the red doesn’t leave his vision and for a moment Hux wonders if it might be better to just sink to the floor than suffer one more failure today. He leans his forehead against the door and lets out a shuddering breath before he reaches out to try again and–

And finds his hand stilled by an ungloved one that he knows intimately, that sends a surge of fear and hate and longing and loveneedhope through him all at once. He hates himself viciously, for being reduced to hope.

“Hux,” Ren’s hand is trembling, just a bit, or maybe it’s Hux’s hand shaking underneath. His voice is gentle, and painfully soft. “That’s enough.”