Like many moments before this one, Luke was at a loss of what to do.
Having learned the way of the Jedi had helped him slowly discover his true purpose in the world, and with that came many answers to questions he had never considered the origins of. A lot of things had begun to come together â an ultimate direction and means to pursue that. But in many ways, Luke had been cheated out of things that would otherwise make him normal.
Or, well. As normal as one could be. And this, what he was about to do, was certainly an example of that.
Many weeks had passed full of companions and experiences he wouldnât have had without the intrusion of this city onto his life. He didnât quite hate all of it, either â in fact, he had learned much of the way of others and universes he could hardly imagine the reality of. It made him feel like a better person. A more rounded person. Even if he didnât make this realization tangibly, a warmth had grown in his heart full of discovery and adventure, the confidence that this perhaps had been exactly what he needed in the time he needed it.
He did not want to stay here, of course. There was much left for him to do at home. But for now, assimilating and planning for what could possibly come next was the best thing he could possibly do to help that mission.
Which had begun in many ways with a girl.
The very girl he sought to give a special delivery to. Heâd known nothing about this day of Valentine â it was not a holiday celebrated on Tatooine or anywhere in his galaxy, perhaps, â but the concept was enough to encourage him to participate. A day filled with kindness and recognition of appreciation⊠and for some, love. An ultimate promise. He couldnât quite make sense of that part, having never felt it or âdatedâ (as they said here) anyone. And this girl was his teacher. A⊠friend. They had become something like friends, hadnât they?
And so carefully held in his gloved hand was an expression of that friendship; heâd asked around and did the necessary research to have come up with a modest bouquet of roses. Yellow roses, just the same as her hair. He quite liked her hair â pale and golden in the light and practically glowing in the dark. Tied together with a red ribbon, it seemed appropriate enough a gesture⊠especially for someone that he felt truly deserved a bit of kindness in this world. There was a lot he felt she should have, in fact. Yet this was simply his way. A conscious that simply wanted the best for others. She was no exception to his sincerity.
Which brought him to her doorstep, pausing for just a moment to collect himself. Realizing what implication this was â or at least what had been told to him upon his research â he actually felt rather nervous. He hoped not to make a wrong impression, certainly when he himself did not understand what the impression actually would feel like if he did feel it. The only concrete realizations he had were that she was a rather pretty person and awfully nice to him for what sheâd been doing since he first came here. Couldnât that be enough for now?
With a deep breath, he knocked, chasing such complicated thoughts away.Â
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