Your new home was cold. Not due to lack of a proper heating method, but rather due to the lack of heart and soul. It was white with pristine floors, stormtroopers roaming around the place at all time.

Your husband was also cold. Gone was the man who would tenderly hold you as you gazed upon the busy skies of Coruscant. Gone was Anakin Skyw-lker. Lord Vader, that was what they called him now. A title proper of the Empire he had helped build.

As the months passed, any attempts at conversation with your lover became harder. Even the Inquisitors—whom he didn't exactly love, and were mostly just means to and end—seemed to get more words out of Vader than you.

He didn't even sleep besides you any more. His nights were now spent inside a bacta tank. Your bed was cold, the sheets uncomfortably neat. You rarely even got sleep these days. How could you, though? Ignore the massacre that your own husband had committed and sleep soundly knowing the countless lives that had been lost.

You sat by the small corner Vader had built for you, a separate room that connected to your bedroom. It had a few books, and the lighting was considerably cozier than the one in the rest of the facility. Though far from perfect, it had become your own little corner—away from the trouble with your husband, away from the guilt of the Republic’s fall.

Or so you thought. Your quiet reading time was interrupted by Vader’s firm steps. The doors swooshing open as he made his way through. “You have been avoiding me,” he stated, not letting room for any queries whatsoever. “I built this for you. I became this for you.”

He came closer, a frown engraved into his brows, yellow eyes reflecting against yours. “And don’t you dare betray me too, like Obi-Wan did, and say I’ve changed—I know that much. Anakin’s gone. I am what remains. I’m better now, stronger. Strong enough to save you, my love.”