For a moment she said nothing, but as his footsteps receded she said, “Obi-Wan?” She heard him stop. “You love him, too, don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, she turned to look. He stood motionless, frowning, in the middle of the expanse of buff carpeting. “You do. You love him.” He lowered his head. He looked very alone. “Please do what you can to help him,” he said, and left.
kill me like genuinely kill me now what the hell is wrong w you matthew stover .
