i…..uh…….kylo’s the biggest switch i have ever seen in my goddamn fuckin life
#the way he takes a moment to look at her
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Rian Johnson basically confirmed that Kylo / Ben wanted to kiss Rey in the elevator scene. It’s canon.
Not to mention, Johnson tells us that Adam Driver, as Kylo / Ben, seriously considered kissing Rey (Daisy Ridley) in this scene.
He is, indeed, staring at her lips in the elevator.
We almost got a kiss here.
Why? Because Rian Johnson gave us this tidbit:
Q: So…is this the first time Kylo has ever held hands with a girl?
Rian Johnson: I actually talked about that with Adam [Driver]. Adam was like, “So…have I [Kylo / Ben] actually kissed a girl before?” I would think maybe he has. Maybe after hours in the Jedi camp, there was a game of spin the bottle — “spin the lightsaber…”
Lord help me. The wait for 9 is too much. I need the kissy kissy now.
Fun fact: If you combine Cosmic Love (Florence and the Machine) and Paint It, Black (The Rolling Stones) and you get the ultimate Dark Reylo soundtrack.
I see your red door, I want it painted black
No colors any more, I want them to turn black
And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,
So darkness I became
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door I must have it painted black
The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map
And knew that somehow I could find my way back
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you.
Touch
Inspired by this artwork, created by @lucidlucy
He doesn’t know how to touch other people. No one ever taught him.
His gloved fingers dig deep into her back as he pulls her closer, holding on to her like a man on the verge of drowning. His teeth graze her collarbone as he burrows his nose in the crook of her neck. She can already feel the bruises forming on her skin – bruises that will undoubtedly make him treat her like she’s made of glass in the morning, his touch feather-light, his eyes full of fear and regret. Too rough, or too soft. Too passionate, or too cautious. No in between.
He doesn’t know how to touch other people, but luckily, neither does she. He can touch her however he likes, as long as he doesn’t stop.
