When has love ever been enough to protect anyone from being harmed? Kylo's parents had loved him. He'd loved them. It hadn't stopped them abandoning him. It hadn't stopped him from plunging his lightsaber into his father's heart.
Love, for everything it claims to be, is no guarantee of safety. If anything, it's a promise of the opposite— and Kylo knows it, so Ronan knows it. It's why he's shaking.
He knows what Kylo will always do to anything he loves, in the end.

Kylo just wants the trembling to stop.

He isn't gentle when he kisses Ronan's mouth. He isn't tender or sweet or careful as he pulls Ronan's body closer and pins it beneath him. He loves Ronan the same way he loves all his scars: possessively.

"Show me," he demands, barely pulling away from his lips. "Show me you remember."