He stared forward, lightsaber drawn, poised to act on that hateful girl in front of him. And while he wanted so much to hate her for being a Jedi, and for being his enemy by extension, he found it impossible. No, he hated her for her face. Her eyes. Her very lips made him seethe inwardly. And not because they were terrible to look at, either. It was a deeper emotion, one which Sion himself hadn't felt in a very long time: jealousy. After all, she surely had no idea of how lucky she was, and he knew this to be the truth because he himself had once been the same way. Once, he had been considered extremely handsome in his own right, and it had made him vain; caused him to believe that he was untouchable. Then, the accident had happened, and none of his vanity could have ever saved him. Yes, he had come out of that ordeal disfigured. Ugly. Broken. He'd only truly survived because of the will of another. And this other had pieced him back together. The man Sion had been, the path he'd walked, all that had become meaningless as he strived to fit the face of the monster he had become. And didn't this Jedi know how easy it was to lose everything just like that? He doubted that she ever would.
"I hate you... because you're beautiful to me."