Chapter Text
It came about after a few glasses of wine – the cheap boxed kind. She couldn’t afford any better, you see, and so this brought Rey to point number one in capitalised, bold font:
- YOU DON'T PAY ME ENOUGH!
It’s true. For the work she does—the work that she shouldn’t have to do—she should be paid more. As his secretary, it’s normal to type up all his dictations, book and cancel his appointments, file his matters and every other mundane task he can’t do himself.
Her job position, however, should not include the following:
- Booking his dinner reservations.
- Grabbing his dry-cleaning.
- Helping him avoid his mother’s calls (she really hates this one)
- Ordering his groceries.
Rey does it though. Without complaint, she’s always done what he’s asked of her. No questions, no scowl, just a bright smile and a cheery ‘right away, Sir’.
And so she types this all up, downing another glass of wine during the process, bringing her to point number two:
- YOU DON’T APPRECIATE ME!
There’s never a thank you with her boss. Never a ‘great work, Rey’ nor a smile or nod of any sort of acknowledgment. He doesn’t say ‘good morning’ or ‘goodbye’. He doesn’t look her in the eye. He hardly shook her hand upon their first meeting.
He’s rude, barking out all his orders in a booming voice. He loses his mind at the littlest, easily-fixable mistakes. He’s arrogant and relentless, hovering at her desk like a pesky little fly except, no—
Not a fly. Nothing like it. He’s big and brooding, too large for his own suits that stretch so tight around his skin and:
- I CAN’T CONCENTRATE WITH YOU AROUND.
He’s an enigma; an utterly confusing one, taking up most of her thoughts, and he has to understand how difficult it can be to work around.
It’s almost hard to breathe with him near, especially with that cologne he wears. She likes it a lot. Bought a bottle just for herself after spying the brand on his desk one evening, spraying the scent tones at her pillow to help her sleep better. It's rich and earthy, and somehow also warm and comforting, even while he’s yelling.
And god, when he yells… His voice is like no other. There’s a cadence to it that’s perfectly unique and distracting; the way it rises and falls, the way it changes with his moods: low and hum-like to loud and cracking.
She loves his voice. She loves his rare, twisted smile and those intense eyes that refuse to meet her own. She loves his sharp nose; wishes she could trail a finger along the slight bump that has her wondering if it was previously broken. She loves his hands. They’re big and wide, always moving when he speaks. She loves his dark hair and the way it falls, and curls when he allows it to grow too long. She loves his lips, full and pouty; even when he’s scowling, she loves them.
She loves him. Somehow, she loves him. It’s ridiculous, it’s impossible, but Rey loves her boss; Rey loves Ben Solo:
- YOU DON’T LOVE ME.
But Ben Solo doesn’t love her back. And perhaps that’s the worst point of them all.
And there it is: all four points, in sharp printed font. The closest it’ll ever get to being said aloud.
It’s out of her system now. Her therapist says it’s healthier that way. Ignoring it won’t make it go away, bottling it will only make it worse. And so here it is, saved within a file of all the other unsaid things she wants to say aloud.
Exhaustion begins to settle in, but just before it grabs her, Rey pulls up her email, composing one last letter to her boss.
She attaches her resignation document, signs her name and hits send before she can think on it any longer.
“Rey.” She glances up, sitting up straight as he calls on her name. It’s soft and withholding, concealing whatever frustration he’s about to unleash. “May I see you in my office for a moment?”
She nods with pursed lips, fixing her skirt with a quick tug as she stands up and walks cautiously into his office.
He shuts the door behind them.
“Take a seat.”
She does as he asks, crossing her legs and gripping the edge of the chair as he rounds the desk in three large strides.
He’s looking her in the eye.
Why is he looking her in the eye?
Rey reshifts her gaze down to his chest, eyeing a button that struggles to hold on.
“Rey, I—” He trails off with a shake of his head. “I was surprised. Your email. I was… surprised to receive your email. It was—”
“Yes,” she interrupts. “I know this is sudden. I know I’ve given no inclination with this and I’m sorry, sir, for emailing it rather than handing it to you personally. It’s unprofessional but—”
“I’m glad you did; I’m glad you sent it,” he murmurs. “You gave me time to prepare.”
Her brows furrow at this. A week’s notice was not much time to prepare at all, certainly not with Ben and his impossibly high standards - Rey’s interview process went on for months.
“What?’” She disregards office formality, confusion sharp off her tongue. To answer her question, he slides over a document.
It’s a printed email, highlighted in certain parts. But the colour isn’t what sticks out.
All Rey can see are four bold points he was never supposed to see.
Her stomach drops.
“I don’t—” Her throat constricts as panic surges within her whole body. “This isn’t… I wasn’t supposed to—”
“It’s alright.” He sounds out softly, leaning in.
“No. No it’s not alright!” Rey shoots him a glare with stinging eyes. “I didn’t mean to send this — you were never meant to see this!” Her explanation is frantic. “I was… you should’ve received my resignation letter, not this, never this.”
“Resignation?” Ben bites out harshly. “What resignation?”
“My resignation — to inform you that after this week, I’m done. After this week, I’ll never see you again.”
“You’re quitting?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She laughs. It’s bitter and shrill. “I think that explains it perfectly.” She waves to the document on the desk.
“No. No, it doesn’t,” he growls. “You’re not allowed to quit—”
“I am. I could even do it today—”
“But you won’t—”
“But I need to,” she cries desperately. “I don’t… I can’t look at you after this. It’s too—”
“Just wait!” he snaps. “If you just wait a fucking minute…” Ben exhales and leans back in his chair, running a large hand through his hair to calm himself.
“If you could give me some time, Miss Niima, I’d like to counter these claims of yours. All four of them.”