He was calm. Disciplined. Pure. You on the other hand, you were chaos. Ruthless. Trained to kill Jedi. Luke Skywalker should've been more careful. He should've stopped trying to see the light in every Sith he crosses paths with. He should've stopped when you've filled his skin with scars.

But he didn't. He kept trying to pursue you. Despite the Order. He bent it all for you. And now here you were, laying next to him on his bed in his newly built temple. Who could imagine that this particular Jedi would end up in bed with a Sith?

The moon was still up, and you were also. The calloused pads of your fingertips trail across his naked chest, following the scars you left on him during your previous battles. Luke was so beautiful it hurt. So pure. So kind. Everything you weren't.