I don't remember the exact day I realised that I was in love with my master. I don't think there ever was a particular moment when it struck me. You don't wake up one morning and know you love somebody and have loved them for years. It creeps up on you slowly and then you find yourself unable to live without them. I remember how miserable I used to feel on the rare occasions when my master was sent on assignments by himself. Outwardly I was perfectly normal, but inside I couldn't stop myself from worrying that something might happen to him and that he might not come back. Of course it never did and he always came home, but that never quite stopped me from anxiously counting the days until his return. It seems so silly now, looking back. If I'd known how much worse things would actually be...but I know I shouldn't be thinking like this. It won't bring him back, a bitter little voice in the back of my head reminds me.
I open my eyes at that and realise that the sun has set while I was trying and failing to meditate and the room is dark and cold. Slowly I get to my feet, my cramped limbs complaining after sitting motionlessly for so long, and cross the room I used to share with him to look out at the familiar view. Spread out beneath me the bright lights of the busy city are twinkling and people come and go as if nothing has happened, as if the world hasn't changed forever. Well I suppose for them it hasn't, there lives will all go on as normal. It's just me who will never be the same again.
If I close my eyes and really concentrate I can still feel him in this room, like an echo. I let my head fall forward so that I'm leaning on the cold glass. In my mind's eye I can see him sat on his bed, a worn old book in his hands, studying some alien culture or foreign language that he will need for some mission or other. The vision is so real that I can almost hear the rustling of paper and smell that wonderful scent that is uniquely his. I can picture him reading out passages that he knows will interest me as I sit at the foot of the bed trying unsuccessfully to concentrate on my own work. He never did stick to the things that all padawans were supposed to learn, there was always something he thought was more important to teach me first. It used to annoy Master Yoda when I was younger, but after a while he gave up trying to argue with my master, it never made any difference anyway.
Reluctantly I turn away from the window, my eyes still firmly shut. I don't want to spoil the perfect image in my head and I know this room so well that there's no danger of me tripping over anything anyway. I cross the room easily and sink onto his bed. The blanket beneath me is unusually cold, so cold that it almost feels damp to the touch. Even though I know that this is probably a bad idea and will make me feel worse in the long run I lie down and bury my face in the pillow breathing deeply. It still smells like him.
They say smell is one of the best aids to memory. Suddenly I can remember the last time he was here in perfect, clear detail. It was a warm night and it must have been quite late because through the gap in the curtains I could see the black sky above the blaze of the city, though I didn't bother to check the clock. I was lying on my side somewhere halfway between being awake and asleep with my master's arms wrapped tightly around me, leaning back against his warm, solid chest. His breathing was deep and even but I knew he was still awake. "Master?", I whispered and I felt him raise his head a little to look at me, "I love you." He rested his cheek against the top of my head and I could almost feel him smiling, "I love you, too. Now go to sleep." Obediently I had snuggled closer to him, feeling warm and safe and happy, and had been asleep in minutes. When I woke in the morning he was already up. That was the last time he'd ever been in this room.
A single tear leaks out from under my closed eyelids and drips noiselessly onto the pillow. I know I should be able to control my emotions better than this, that I shouldn't really feel like this in the first place, but I can't bring myself to care. I reach out with the Force to where he should have been, but there's nothing there. Loneliness overwhelms me and I bury my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. I feel lost, like a small child who has been forgotten and abandoned.
Now instead of my happy memories all I can think of is the worst moment of my life, the moment when...I can't bring myself to even think it. How are you supposed to cope with the knowledge that you could have saved the person you love if you had been just a little faster, tried a bit harder? I had failed him, whatever anybody said I had failed him. I would have to live with that for the rest of my life, the fact that I was powerless to help him, all I could do was stand and watch as...
With a jerk a wrench my eyes open and make myself sit up. This is not what he would have wanted, I tell myself firmly. With new determination I get up of the bed and stride purposefully around the room. I will make him proud, I will train the boy whatever Master Yoda and the council say, I will not allow myself to fall apart like this again, it's not how he would have behaved if he were in my position. I picture his kind smile, his warm friendly eyes, how his arms felt around me. Everything I do will be for him, I will be the best I can possible be for him. "I love you, Master," I whisper to the empty air and I could have almost sworn I heard a faint murmur in reply.