Kyle’s presence always felt cold to Freya, despite the angry heat that fueled his power. When she waited for him to arrive at their building (no longer just hers in her mind, but theirs – when had that happened?), she knew he was getting closer by the chill that settled over her, even in the dead of summer. It was heaviest in those first few moments and it dissipated quickly once they got to work, but that chill never fully went away. She still sensed it when she was alone – distantly, yes, but it was always there. He was always there. Like a shadow in the dark.
A sudden appearance in her bedroom through their bond, though, was much different – less like a gradual submerging under cool water than someone sneaking up behind her and putting an ice cube on the back of her neck. Startling and unwelcome at first, but once the initial shock wore off, she found that it was, surprisingly, a balm. Something she’d needed without knowing. To see him here, of all places. To not be alone.
His words echoed her thoughts – I thought I was alone, said not with reproach for an intrusion he thought she was responsible for but something akin to relief that he wasn’t. While his back was still turned to her, she looked at him with wide eyes, a little bewildered about what any of this might mean – but then she realized what he was actually saying.
He hadn’t done this.
“.... Oh.” Freya looked down at her lap, frowning softly. Had she been the one to call to him through the Force this time, even accidentally? She didn’t think so; she had been thinking about him, but not with any intention of reaching out. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them not to do this, to stay out of each other’s heads. As curious as she was about him, Freya would not be the first one to purposefully disrespect that boundary… but things had been changing since they started training using her methods. Their connection was growing more and more powerful by the day. Somehow this had to be the next progression of it.
Freya leaned forward, elbows on knees, and turned her head just enough to him closely as he stood up to face her. She hadn’t reached out to him, he hadn’t reached out to her – but, she thought, they had probably reached for each other, at the exact same time. That was how this dyad tended to work, first with Rey and Kylo and now with her and Kyle. Just one of them wasn’t enough. They had to do it together.
She bit her lip, unsure what to make of that.
His question caught her off-guard, and she straightened slightly, glad that the only light in her room was coming from the street outside her window so he wouldn’t see the faint blush in her cheeks. For some reason, the fact that he’d noticed she hadn’t been sleeping made her feel more exposed than knowing he was seeing her in only a sports bra. (Which was something she could care less about. Freya wasn't a prude, and if a little skin made him uncomfortable, then so be it.)
Her mouth fell open then closed again, and she gave her head a small shake. There was no point in denying it; even if she did, he’d know she was lying.
“Yes,” she said, a little begrudgingly but also with no small amount of release. The last person she’d talked to about her chronic insomnia was her mother, almost ten years ago. “I was…” Her fingers toyed with the end of her braid as more memories of her mother surfaced, unbidden. How she always seemed to know when her youngest daughter was awake past bedtime, and stayed with her late into the night until Freya had finally been able to say what she needed to say and sleep.
Freya swallowed hard and tried to push the memories away. Surely there were worse times for them to come rushing back, but this had to be up there. Kylo was always something of an expert at dissecting memories Rey would rather have kept to herself. “I was thinking too much,” she finished finally, and she waved her hand with a dismissiveness she didn’t feel. “Happens, sometimes.”