Kylo doesn’t tell, so Hux doesn’t ask. He knows better than to care. He’s beginning to wonder if Kylo even needs a reason to destroy the ship in childish fits of rage, or if he’s perhaps on some kind of schedule, or has to meet a quota. If he doesn’t destroy four communication consoles every six hours, someone’s going to have hell to pay.
Or something like that.
Hux, of course, knows better than to care.
However, the Jedi - sith - whatever, seems to be on the cusp of one of his fits now, and Hux isn’t pleased about it. He’s even less pleased by the fact that he can tell when Kylo is about to break something, even with the mask.
It’s in his shoulders. And the tightness of his hands in his gloves. Even the sound of his false-mechanical breathing sounds different. Hux doesn’t know how he knows these things; he has, over the course of several months, convinced himself that he’s done it through sheer necessity. Best to know when the sith might snap. It just so happens that Hux stares at Kylo an awful lot, for safety reasons. And observes his mannerisms closely. And listens intently for his breathing when he’s near. For the safety of the crew. For his own safety.
Or something.
Kylo’s shoulders hitch up to somewhere around where his ears most likely are - difficult to tell these things with the idiotic bucket on his head - before he lowers them and sighs loudly with a breath of static.
Hux rolls his eyes and purses his lips into his most recognizable face: disdain with a side of superiority complex and condescension.
Kylo’s such a child. He’s practically begging Hux to ask him what his fucking problem is.
Hux won’t do him the satisfaction.
Kylo starts pacing around the bridge once Hux has clasped his arms behind his back and fixated his dead stare on the stars beyond, clearly conveying his maturity and overall superiority to all things Kylo Ren.
He cuts an eye from side to side when Kylo isn’t looking and finds the bridge conveniently empty of people who don’t have their eyes glued to screens and are effectively incapable of paying Kylo and Hux any mind.
Of course.
Hux has noticed this.
When the two are in a room together, bystanders are quick to find an out. Hux wonders what they think will happen; perhaps when polar opposites come into close contact they explode, or rip holes of the fabric of time. Or some other rubbish.
Kylo paces some more. Hux is certain he can feel him glaring, which is admittedly slightly disconcerting.
Finally, finally, Hux gives in, unable to cope with the shear annoyance he feels at Kylo's very existence at the moment.
“Can I help you, Kylo Ren?” he asks as scathingly as possible.
Kylo’s boots go silent against the floor. He says nothing for a while. Hux shouldn’t be disappointed, but he wanted to have some kind of argument with Kylo; he can’t argue if Kylo remains mum.
Finally, he says somewhat softly, “The force can do incredible things; why can’t I tap into it?”
“As if I could know the answer,” Hux sneers. What a stupid thing to say to someone like Hux; to him the Force is nothing more than some mildly practical magic to be exploited.
“No, you wouldn’t. So I’ll put it into words you can understand: There are things I could do that would help ‘our cause.’”
“By which you mean kill more people in large quantities, yes?”
“Among other things.” Kylo practically waves the idea of mass killing off as a side note. Hux respects this at least. “Things I should be able to do, but can’t.”
Hux decides to play along. He’s at least passingly interested in all the ways Kylo might be capable of euphemistically furthering the cause.
“I could stop lasers, I could-“
“Could you really? Sounds a bit insane, even for the ‘Force.’”
Kylo is almost certainly frowning disapprovingly at him. Or pouting. One or the other. Possibly both simultaneously. If only he’d take of the bloody bucket. “Do you doubt the power of the ‘Force’?”
“Maybe. Maybe I just doubt your power.”
An officer within earshot who really should be paying attention to their work, snaps their head up in alarm, probably fearing the sith would kill Hux for the jab. Hux has little to no fear at this point. Kylo could kill him. He won’t. He doesn’t know why exactly, but he won’t.
“Perhaps I doubt my own,” he says, shocking Hux with the admission. Kylo isn’t one to admit weakness of any kind.
“Then fix it,” Hux says. Kylo is silent, a waiting kind of silent. “If you’re weak, become strong. Fix it.”
“Not everything’s a strategic point on a hologram you can send pawns to capture, General.”
“Not everything’s so bloody complicated. If there’s a enemy base, you send troops to crush it. If there’s a traitor, you find and kill him. If you can’t stop lasers with your magic powers, figure it out.”
Hux hears something that sounds strangely like a laugh. “I see,” Kylo says. And then he turns away, cape fanning out dramatically behind him and Hux really can’t stand that man.
Probably.