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Eli Vanto is wildly in love with Thrawn.
This is not a surprise to anyone that knows him, and Thrawn learned long ago that there is no one so loyal as someone who loves you more than life itself. Eli has shown that he does, time and time again, no matter what casual cruelty or lack of consideration Thrawn subjects him to. Sometimes, out of curiosity, he sees how far he can push Eli before he snaps back; Eli proves to be incredibly resilient. This is good. It allows him to be broken and rebuilt over and over until he thinks and acts how Thrawn wishes him to. Eli's development is a long-term project that would not be possible if he did not feel as strongly as he does.
Thrawn is fond of Eli, in his own way. He cares for him the way one cares for a favored object, or a pet: to lose them would might be disappointing or upsetting, and might even inspire a brief period of mourning before they are replaced with something new or more interesting. Eli thinks that Thrawn loves him, but it is just his own love, intense and all consuming, reflecting back upon himself. Thrawn has invested too much time and energy to lose his greatest work, so he permits Eli to see what he wishes to see.
Eli’s love is a bright spark in the vast emptiness of Thrawn's existence. It would be easy to snuff it out, but it is useful more often than not, and a part of him likes its presence. Careful feeding - a kind word here, a brush of the fingers there, a lingering look or a just too-long hold during sparring keeps the flame manageable. It is a balancing act; too much attention and it may become an inferno that will consume them both, too little and the embers will snuff out one by one until there is nothing left but cold ash. He is too disciplined to permit the former. He has invested too much in Eli to allow the latter.
Thrawn’s heart is ice and stone; it has been since he lost his brother, so many years ago. He allows Eli’s fire to warm him, but nothing more. And when the time comes, he sends Eli away without a second thought.
It is not until Eli is gone that Thrawn realizes something inside him is different. He has become accustomed to the warmth of Eli’s love, has been infected by it, and its absence is difficult to cope with. The ice he has layered around his heart has thinned, melted. The stone has a crack, broken open deep down to the protected flesh within.
Eli's absence hurts vastly more than he anticipated.
Thrawn promised he would look after a plant that Eli left behind. He sits with it daily, meditates on it; he tells himself that as the plant withers, so too will any affection that he still feels, hiding away in the cracks and corners he cannot reach to tear out and cast aside. The ice will reform and mend the damage Eli has done to him. He will be protected again.
The plant eventually dies from his willful neglect. The remaining feelings, it turns out, are harder to kill.
Thrawn finds it intolerable that Eli has changed him in such a way. He vows that, should they ever meet again, he will stamp out the love that he so carefully encouraged and tended for so long. He will repay pain with pain. Anger is easier to cope with than sorrow and loneliness.
Anger is easier to cope with than regret.