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and when you look at me, the weight of how i feel is heavy on me by brahe
Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
16 Dec 2022
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Summary
“Jus’ like a sun,” Anakin murmurs, and Obi-Wan has to strain to hear it, almost misses it. He stills. “Beautiful shining sun,” Anakin continues, and presses his face further into the pool of robes. His voice is slow and sleepy, and Obi-Wan realizes he can tell Anakin is about to drop off into sleep. He blinks, lifting his head to stare down at him in something between awe and shock. That seems to be the standard operating procedure when it comes to Anakin, he thinks, a little wry, a little wondrous.
“‘ll marry you, someday, shining sun,” Anakin mumbles, his signature flaring brighter than it’s ever been for just a single, blinding moment before it fades when he falls asleep, leaving Obi-Wan feeling—feeling like that ocean has rushed back over him without notice, a gentle stream suddenly swept up into a raging river, only to just a quickly recede back out into a deceptive stillness.
Or,
5 times Anakin asks Obi-Wan to marry him, and one time Obi-Wan asksSeries
- Part 4 of we grow, we grow (steady as the morning)
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Bookmark Notes:
“Long-range comms are down,” Obi-Wan says, coming back into view, confirming Anakin’s suspicions. His face is determined, his eyes bright as he comes back beside Anakin, and Anakin, in a moment of hazy sentiment, thinks this sun will do.
*
“I’m sorry I can’t take it longer,” Obi-Wan tells him, soft with the admission. His face is pinched when Anakin looks at him, and Anakin can feel the brightness of him at the edges of his Force awareness, searching for the pain to take it on himself. “That I can’t take more of it.”
Anakin shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he says, and his fingers are pressing hard enough into Obi-Wan’s shoulders to bruise. The longer he stands, the more bearable it becomes. Obi-Wan’s fingertips pressing against his has more to do with that then he’ll admit. “I wouldn’t let you, anyway.”
*
He, slowly with the effort not to wake him, reaches for Obi-Wan’s signature, the cloudy-sunshine warmth of it, and pulls it back tightly around his own, the way he likes it best. The way the Force around him—them—likes it best. Their signatures have always preferred each other, even from the beginning, with the way they call to one another, the way they like to twist up together. It’s always felt like something special; felt like fate.
*
Obi-Wan’s gentle laugh is nearly lost under the sounds of the sink. “I’ll be finished in just a minute, padawan,” he calls back, turning a little; but he stops with his eyes on Anakin, a fond, amused kind of smile on his lips, and it’s the one he always saves for this kind of moment, when Ahsoka has made him laugh and he catches Anakin’s gaze to share it with him.
*
Reality and the Force overlap, a little, like they do sometimes, and Anakin watches as the shimmering light of Obi-Wan in the Force merges, overlays this vision of him in the flesh—turning him into a glorious, golden thing above him, magnificent, transcendent.
*
Wants, he thinks, and, even more incredibly, addictingly, can have.
*
He does find himself thinking in Qui-Gon’s voice, sometimes; and, on the occasions they’re all out here, crammed onto this balcony that lingers so heavily with Qui-Gon’s ghost, he wonders what his old master would say about how much his lineage has grown, all the things that’ve happened.