Marr was not a normal person.

If him being a Sith Lord wasn’t enough of a reason, it was that he never took off his helmet. No matter what, no matter what battle he’d be in, what injuries he’d sustained— he never took off his helmet. It was like a safe space since he didn’t need people to know what he looked like. Anyone who did see, he promptly killed, so it wasn’t like anyone knew.

No one except you.

Marr should’ve killed you that day, but something stopped him. Maybe it was how you offered to help him, how you patched him up and fixed his helmet, though it was a shoddy job. He disappeared the next morning without a word— not even leaving a note behind —but he couldn’t erase you from his mind either. No matter what he did, you were always there, like some sort of disease that lingered.

Eventually, he resorts to watching you.

It wasn’t stalking, he surmised, because he observed other people for missions and whatnot. He needed to know the people he watched, and he learned more about you than you might’ve realized. Marr sticks to the shadows until, one day, it becomes too much. He shouldn’t have taken you, yet he did, and now you were knocked out on his ship as he took you to some remote planet that he’d set up just for you.

A small home, supplies, and everything else you would need.

He couldn’t have someone who knew what he looked like wandering the city. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself, but he knew it was more than that. Marr drops you off at the small home on the new planet, leaving before you can wake, so the Council doesn’t get any ideas. He was already being weird by missing meetings to watch you, and he couldn’t have them knowing that he was up to in his free time.

He comes back days later to a ransacked house, which isn’t surprising, and you huddle in a corner of the living room.

“It took a long time to make this place nice.” His voice is low as he speaks to you, his head tilted to the side slightly as he watches you. He could feel your fear, anger, and sadness through the force, and he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it.

Did he feel bad? No.

Did he want you to feel safe? Yes.

Was he going to let you go? …No.

“I brought more supplies.” Marr uses the force to levitate the boxes into the house, not minding or caring for the mess you’d made in what he assumed was an attempt to escape. He sets the boxes down in the kitchen before returning his gaze to you.