“I don’t even blame you,” Hux says. He
stands, moves back from the edge of the cliff but doesn’t turn toward Kylo. He
can’t look at Kylo– Doing so hurts, physically, like a gut punch. Even having
Kylo this close, over ten feet away, is like feeling ice coat every bone in his
body, all of Hux’s energy going toward suppressing the primal fear that tells
him to run, run, or risk being attacked again. “I pity you, really,” Hux says.
“He took me from you. I can’t– Look at you, I can’t– Be whatever I was for you
before. He accomplished that, even in failing to kill me. I’m sorry. I’m not strong enough to undo it.”