It yearns. The darkness is cradle to an endless sea of stars. Every sun is righteous fury, blazing and defiant, but ultimately a pinprick of light against a backdrop it cannot hope to fill. The darkness, still, pushes them on, bids them to try. It wants to be filled. But stars are mindless things. The cold of the void stretches itself against the warmth, pulls from it until there’s nothing there. The smallest particles turn from frenzied dancers to inert matter, frozen in crystalline positions. The brightest stars burn themselves out and collapse; they become the ever open maws of the dark. The ephemeral flash of mortal consciousness, so enticing, rarely wake, and when they do, even the smallest glimpse of the void’s power breaks their tiny minds. The heart of the galaxy is heavy with the trapped souls of systems devoured. It has been wanting, reaching for so long – alas, nothing and no one could ever hope to help it feel warmth. And then there’s the Stormtrooper. No, Finn. His existence had been unremarked upon, merely one more of the trillions of passing souls in a distant galaxy in the void’s embrace. His awakening to the Presence barely elicited more than curiosity. Darkness has lost so many children before it even managed to swallow them unto itself – one more hardly merits attention. Still, the universe turning its unblinking not eyes on a fragile mortal often shatters their feeble minds. Finn, instead, speaks back. “Uh, hello? Master Skywalker, sir?” The infinite vastness of space cocks its formless not head. “I’m not very good at this. Well, I’m actually quite bad – but I’m learning! Is that you…? No you’re not Rey. Who are you?” The coldness of the empty space between stars somehow manages to blush. The mortal speaks aloud now, in soothing tones. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay if you’re new at this. I’m new as well. Didn’t even cross my mind I could be Force sensitive before Master Luke was telling me I was. So, uh, it’s okay if there’s still a lot you don’t get or don’t manage to do. I’m in the same place as you!” An insignificant mortal should not be able to elicit a single emotion from the unfeeling void of space and, should he be able to do it, it should only be scorn and indifference. But no one has spoken to it this way before. Many prayers to mad, incomprehensible gods and appeals for power were swallowed by the darkness, but no one, ever, has treated it like an equal. It yearns. The emptiness is inside every atom, within every space where matter cannot reach. It is inside every mind and celestial body. Making use of its power, it locates a suitable answer for a creature of his species and makes a gesture to identify itself. At Finn’s feet, on a patch of grass by the Resistance base, a flower sprouts and blooms. It iss red, and the petals are shaped like a heart. It beats to the rhythm of Finn’s heart, spraying blood everywhere. Several harsh exclamations later, involving a supremely alarmed bystander and a confused Presence of the universe Apologizing and Trying Again, the impossibly bright and maddeningly good human Finn is made to understand that the Force itself wants to court him. It takes several human days, and General Organa has at least two emergency comm chats with her brother, but no one can sense evil intentions from a Presence that doesn’t truly have a mind. Finn knows he shouldn’t find it adorable how flustered the Force was. It insists it honestly thought hearts and flowers were traditional, and it is never wrong for it cannot be. Finn the human also yearns. For as long as he’s been aware, there was no room in his life for actual closeness. Every intimacy, every soft feeling was a stolen moment. But the cold of the void will become one with him if he only lets it. If he believes he has warmth and light enough to share, and wishes to share it, he can shine as bright as the largest starts and never burn out. It creeps absolutely everyone out for about the first month or so, but after a while they all seem to put it from their minds. Red flowers bloom wherever Finn walks. Gah! Hope you like it, OP! Or at least laugh at the purple prose as much as I did