A glimmer. A nebulous brightness struck painfully at the depths of my retina, through my still closed eyelids. An aggressive sensation that woke me from my almost sepulchral sleep and forced me to arduously open my eyes. I wrinkled my forehead painfully and finally exposed myself to the daylight, which was piercing through the curtain, whose obscuring effectiveness could legitimately be questioned.

I gradually accustomed myself to my surroundings, to the light that had most likely risen and was now trying to occupy my room. For how long? Slowly, images came back to my mind. The interview with Wann, the hotel, the pub and the wine, the glasshouse, Bastila, the night that followed. Suddenly I widened my eyes and gasped for breath. Bastila. We had parted from our evening in a very friendly mood. I had then decided to get into bed quickly, so that I could dive into my thoughts and memories of that wonderful evening. But just as I was about to change for the night, a knock sounded at my door.

Bastila.

I wasn't quite sure of the exact sequence of events, but it was clear that it took no time at all for the Jedi and I to become unable to break away from each other and to put an end to the passionate interaction that she and I had initiated. So much so that we had spent the whole night together, holding each other, pursuing this exchange lovingly yet forcefully. We were like two people who had wanted each other for so long that they were no longer able to hold back their affection and their deep attachment to each other.

I rose quickly to a sitting position and turned my head to my left. There was no one there. I was alone. She had run away, without me noticing. I released the deep breath I had been holding for several seconds and stared randomly at the folds of the sheet that still covered my legs, down to my hips. Nothing else was to be expected. I turned onto the side of the bed, planted my feet on the floor, and blew out another breath, my face against my hands. As I freed my eyes from them, I saw a few belongings strewn chaotically across the room: my leather, my lightsaber, a blue jacket, my boots...

A blue jacket?

Suddenly I glanced at the cloth, obviously not mine. I squinted at it, my mouth half-open, releasing a controlled but somewhat shaky gasp. Then I stood up abruptly from the bed and examined every corner of the room with a sharp eye. Soon I could spot other things that didn't belong to me: a double-bladed lightsaber resting on a dresser near the room's entrance, and another pair of boots in the opposite corner of the room. She was still there. With no further thought, I grabbed my trousers and hurriedly pulled them on, and then reached for my jumper, which I tried to slip into as I left the bedroom and made my way to the small living room. Eventually I managed to get dressed, and as the jumper struggled down over my shoulders I felt a cool breeze against my face, through my young beard, and through the fabric of my clothes. I lifted my gaze to the bay window that led to a small rectangular balcony.

The Jedi was there.

I saw her leaning against the railing, facing the vastness of the ocean. I took a moment to observe her, and a moment to consider what I should do then. It was quite obvious. I had to join her. Anxiety rose in the pit of my stomach and seemed to spread throughout my body in a fraction of a second. A fear that warned me that the moment to come was going to be hard. But I knew there was no other choice. And this cruel fate held the curious power to comfort me. Just enough for me to finally walk out onto the balcony. With a determined, but nonetheless worried stride, I stepped towards the half-open window, and put my feet on the icy floor of the balcony, which knocked the breath out of me very briefly. I approached the woman, still staring at the horizon, as if she had not noticed my presence, which I very much doubted. I came to stand beside her, close by, but keeping a respectable distance. At last the young woman turned her eyes to me, and I could see in them a mixture of regret and sorrow. Something so bitter that I could almost feel it physically. Yet, in this violent torment, I did not perceive any hostility or animosity towards me. Bastila did not seem to be resentful of me, which I found somewhat surprising, knowing the woman. I felt even more surprised when she gave me a slightly defeated, yet honest, smile. I responded to that smile, and I decided to risk a bold approach. An initiative that could give me a very clear indicator of what was to come. Gently, I moved closer to the young woman and placed a delicate kiss on the graceful curve between her neck and shoulder. I felt the Jedi shiver, probably because of the sensation of my beard on her skin, combined with the freshness of that morning, and certainly also because of the embarrassment she was feeling at that moment - although she did not refuse my gesture. I regained my original posture, leaning more firmly on the railing and joining both hands in front of me, I uttered the first word:

"How long have you been up? "

"About twenty minutes or so, maybe."

I stared at the woman and nodded slightly. Twenty minutes. She would have had plenty of time to get her belongings and leave in twenty minutes. And yet here she was. Certainly in some sort of absence, but clearly not in any plan to escape. I took my eyes off the Jedi and moved them to my hands, then I added in a nervous whisper:

"When I woke up, I thought you were gone."

Silence fell. It invaded our painful attempt at a dialogue for several long seconds. Then, like a flash of light in the darkness, Bastila resumed the thread of the discussion, drawing my attention back to her:

"That's what I was thinking of doing when I woke up." She admitted sombrely.

"And here you are." I replied factually, with my eyes locked on the woman.

"And here I am. Even though I shouldn't be." She retorted, sternly fixing me.

I cracked a disillusioned smile, before resuming the conversation.

"We're not doing anything wrong, Bastila." I said with irritation as I rose from my position, confronting the Jedi.

The woman, no doubt perceiving that the tone of our discussion was rising, turned straight towards me, facing me. Her face grew more and more grave, indicating the imminent coming of an umpteenth argument between us.

"You definitely don't understand." She stated firmly. Her assertion provoked a fed-up grumble in me, which led to an angry outburst that I could no longer channel. I stepped slightly closer to the woman and responded as harshly as I could at that moment:

"Don't look down on me." I began aggressively, gasping for breath. "Stop taking me for a fool by deliberately leaving me blind!"

Bastila shot me an almost frightened look. I was not impressed and carried on:

"Since to you I am a complete idiot, please explain the things I cannot understand." I went on without expecting any answer. The tone and formulation I employed appeared to disturb the Jedi, who arched an eyebrow in surprise. "I'll tell you what I get from this, Bastila: you and I are two people who happened to meet, who happened to like each other, and who desire to stay together. Why are you so afraid of something like that? What is so terrifying about something so ordinary for the common people?"

"We are not common people, Corem!" The young woman sharply interrupted, in her harshest tone. " This is the part you refuse to listen to!"

I was shocked by her outburst and fell silent, my eyes painfully sealed in her own. About ten seconds passed without any words being spoken. We stared at each other, as if we were sharing some of our respective distress. As if we were trying to show each other how much we were suffering from the situation. Caught up in my deep desire to be with her, I went on in the same line, in an assumed naivety:

"We could be." I said in a restrained, but resolute voice. I saw Bastila shake her head slightly in disbelief, her eyes still on me. I wasn't quite sure, but I also thought I perceived a hint of disillusionment from the Jedi.

"No." She stabbed cruelly. "Get that out of your head, because it's never going to happen."

"So what? We're just going to keep giving in to each other and then pissing each other off?" I painfully retorted. At this point I saw the woman's gaze slightly soften, giving way to some regret.

"We have to stop giving in." She said resolutely.

"Sure." I replied ironically. "So far, it's been a great success."

We studied each other in another awkward silence. I took my eyes off the young woman for a very brief moment, during which I let out a depressed breath, before continuing more decently as I returned to Bastila's face.

"I'm sorry to put this weight on your already burdened shoulders, but don't expect me to be able to resist. I can't."

The Jedi just stared at me, without adding anything. So I prolonged my speech:

"I will not solicit you, Bastila. I will not initiate anything. But if I ever learn that you are looking for me, I want you to know that I will run to you. And this, unconditionally."

I stepped a little closer to her, until we were barely a dozen centimetres apart. I said in a low, hushed voice, a confidential whisper, with my eyes locked in hers:

"You can try to cover up what's between us. You can try to put all the space in the universe between you and me. You can't get me to take you out of my thoughts. You don't have that power, Bastila. And I won't give it to you. In any case, I'm pretty sure you don't really want it."

"You're pretentious. " The Jedi responded dryly, visibly torn between austerity and the desire to give in once again. She suddenly seemed to come to her senses and placed a firm hand against my chest. "Your distances." She ordered. "You're not supposed to take any initiatives. You just said so."

"Yes." I replied. "Sorry." I added, stepping back slightly, trying to hide a small, inappropriately amused smile.

I watched the Jedi, who had moved her attention away from me. She huffed. Then she finally returned to me, with a sidelong glance.

"You were the one who came to me yesterday." I stated. It was a truth, an irrefutable fact. Bastila found my eyes more openly, and replied in a strong voice:

"And you knew the outcome of such a thing. Please don't tell me you thought I was going to totally change my perspective on life after this."

"No." I admitted bitterly. "But there is still a part of me that hopes. The fool who lives in his world of illusions. The naive fool."

I faced the horizon again, the ocean, the daylight reflecting off the surface of the water.

This pain.

This pain that was smashing my whole body, my whole mind, my whole soul. This woman, presently just a tiny step away from me, represented both my greatest happiness and my greatest sorrow. She was right. It had to stop. I had to stop tormenting myself for her. It was too hard. I recovered the position I had had before we confronted each other. Then, leaning nonchalantly on the railing, I said with a trembling voice:

"Please Bastila." Despite the fact that I wasn't looking at her, I could feel her eyes on me. "I can't fight my feelings for you." I paused briefly, took a deep breath. "You're right." I said with bitter determination. Through our bond, I thought I felt a sudden surge of anxiety and apprehension coming from Bastila. I tried my best to brush aside these uneasy sensations, and then I resumed almost angrily: "Don't ever come to me again, Bastila. Knowing that, don't come to me again. It's too painful."

I stood up from my stance and moved my face back to the young woman, staring at me with a look that I thought was close to grief, which she must have been trying to restrain. I had to go on, I had to keep going.

"The only way to make this naive fool in me stop talking is to let him starve to death. Choke out his hope." I took a short pause. "After that, things will get better. So please, don't ever come and feed him again."

Once again fully facing the young woman, I ended with these words which I considered myself cruel, for her as for me:

"When we have completed this mission, if we manage to complete it, I would like us to find Masters who can break our bond. I don't want to be sharing this with you anymore. After this, I'll do the necessary to make sure we never see each other again. It'll all end there. For good."

I didn't even bother to glance at Bastila, who was deeply silent. However, thanks to our bond, I was able to pick up fragments of emotion from her. I had struck hard and accurately.

The woman was trying to mask the pain and suffering that seemed to have settled in her as I went on with my painful speech. I knew perfectly well that deep down she did not want us to end our semblance of a story. I knew that she wanted us to live freely with our feelings for each other. But that was not our reality. There was the mission, the Order, the Masters, the Code. In other words, everything that kept us from enjoying our relationship.

Before I withdrew, I said these words, which I struggled to face:

"I'm going to get ready for the day. When I'm done, I'd like you to be gone."

I stepped out of the balcony and left the woman I loved alone in the cold Manaan morning air to join the shower room, where I locked myself in. There I turned on the water from the shower with loud noise. To drown my pain. To suffocate my despair. To hide from Bastila. To give the Jedi time to gather her belongings and leave, without crossing my path. I could not hold back the sobs, which I allowed to run out of my tired eyes, my hands resting on the edges of the sink. Then I decided to get into the shower. I took off the few clothes I had put on earlier and slipped under the hot water, which joined the tears that were still rolling down my cheeks. I stayed there for at least fifteen minutes. I couldn't bring myself to go back into the living room, into the bedroom, and possibly meet the Jedi again. But I would have to get out of there eventually. I turned off the water valve and left the shower. I grabbed a large crimson towel and tied it around my waist. After a long, hard sigh, I set off for the bedroom to collect some of my clothes and get dressed in a more appropriate manner. When I stepped into the living room, I realised that the draught was gone. The bay window was closed, the balcony deserted. I let out another breath, comforted and at the same time devastated that I could no longer see her, that she might really be gone. I entered the bedroom, with the idea of making sure that the Jedi had indeed left me. The naive fool inside me could not help but picture her still here, awaiting me, ready to throw herself into my arms as soon as I crossed the threshold of the bedroom door. However, when I actually got into the room, I had to face the truth: Bastila and all her belongings were gone.