#the name is ezra but thats just bc this was a blurb for my own mental support and ezra is one of my names

[rainstorm-banshee]

Little hux comfort blurb, first time posting anything like this so uhh be nice

The door to his quarters is always locked. It doesnt matter if we saw each other regularly, it was still protocol for even a high-ranking medical officer to request entry into the General's offices. I knocked three times on the durasteel door, and waited.

"State your business." His voice came over the comm slightly staticky, but that couldn't disguise the familiar tinge of exhaustion it held. For a moment I debated retiring to my own quarters to let him sleep.

"Medical Officer Dr. Ezra requesting entry."

The door hissed open without a comm response and I stepped into the main room. The lights were dimmer than the hallway, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust and scan the room for life.

I didn't have to look for long, because a voice called to me from the next room over: the kitchenette.

"Tea? The pot is still warm."

To my surprise, Armitage Hux was still in his full uniform, complete with greatcoat and gloves, hair carefully slicked into place.

"Please."

Within minutes, I was handed a warm black cup of tea. He eyed me from where he was leaning on the counter, taking a small sip of his own.

"Out with it. You look like you're about to collapse in on yourself like a dying star."

Bold words from a man who regularly got so worked up his entire body shook, who skipped nights of sleep to complete paperwork, who 'relaxed' by spending time at the blaster shooting range. His dedication to the First Order was greater than to anything else, even his own well being.

"I'm just tired. Wanted to come see you." I took another long sip of tea to avoid meeting his icey gaze. It was just on the wrong side of too hot. Only one of those sentences was a lie, and Hux saw right through it. He brushed his already neat hair back with his free hand.

"Don't lie to me, Sweetheart."

The pet name sent a little burst of affection though my mind, especially with the way his voice dropped whenever he said it. A delicate balance of condescending and genuine. Nevertheless, he knew I was bullshitting him. Sometimes I swore he was force sensitive, with the way he could read me. I set my cup down on the counter behind me before turning back to face him.

"I am so tired all the time," I started, hands flying with the force of the emotion pushing the words out, finally said out loud instead of rattling around in my head. "I feel stupid, I feel like if I threw myself out of the airlock the next officer under me would take my place and nobody would miss me, I feel like I'm just a waste of-"

I didn't register Hux walking across the room towards me but before I knew it, both of my wildly motioning wrists were firmly caught in his gloved hands. I didn't struggle, the warm leather a sort of soothing restraint.

"You are not a waste of space. How many do so much less than you, and are still allowed to succeed? To exist, even?" His voice was level, if not a little sarcastic. When I looked up, his eyes were already locked onto mine. He arched an eyebrow and continued.

"You have suffered to get where you are. And you will suffer more before you're done."

The grip on my wrists loosened, and I dropped my hands to my sides. My body seemed colder now. His hands came up to rest on my shoulders, and I entertained the thought of embracing him for a moment before he continued.

"But you have fire. Ambition. The same drive as I do, and you will reap your just rewards before you're done."

"I know. But I feel like it shouldn't be this easy. So many promotions in so little time, so much responsibility. Where is the senior officer that comes to yell at me, to tell me that I'm manipulative and scheming, and that my ruse is up? I don't feel deserving." My eyes dropped from his as I spoke, settling on Millicent walking across the counter behind him.

His hands dropped from my shoulders, and again I missed the warmth of his touch.

"You could work yourself to death. You could never stop, fly through the ranks, come to sit at my side as an equal. You have the eye for military strategy. I could even give you a new position that I created, I could make this easy for you." He seemed nauseated by the mere suggestion, a sneer curling his upper lip.

"But it would be an insult to you for someone to just throw success in your lap. You and I both know that power and respect are earned. Keep working. No one is coming to tear you down if you don't give them the chance."

For some reason, the last sentence brought to mind the assassination he greenlighted of his abusive father. He was drunk when he shared that story with me, but it had sent a shiver down my spine. Cutthroat.

"You will be tired, you will ache. You will suffer. And you will keep going." He was still looking at me, but his eyes weren't completely focused. It sounded like these were things he told himself, and not something he thought of just for me. In that moment, I understood what drew us together.

I stepped forwards and finally embraced him, and he froze for a moment before he hugged me back. He usually did. That sort of thing came with the territory of being overworked, paranoid, and touch starved. I turned my head so my ear rested on his chest and I closed my eyes. He smelled like subtle and expensive cologne, the stiff fabric of his uniform body-warm and lint-free. The steady rise and fall of his chest could fool me into thinking we were the only two people aboard the Finalizer, the only two people in the galaxy, for a few blissful moments.

After what felt like years, or maybe seconds, I stepped back. He looked down at me, the ghost of a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

"Sometimes, you just need someone to tell you that you can do it."