Give Me Love

chapter fifty two

Anakin had left shortly after those words. Ripped his hands from yours and stalked out of the room without another glance.

Being stabbed in the chest would have hurt less.

You weren't sure what to do with your hands anymore– left open and empty in the position they had held his. And your legs, they were beginning to go numb with how long you'd been kneeling on the floor.

You couldn't stay here. Not with the emptiness screaming at you from every corner of the room.

Your feet took you to the only place you could think to stand right now– the garden in the Jedi Temple. As soon as you stepped out of the path and into the hidden clearing with the water fountain, you closed your eyes.

There. The sound of the trickling water of the fountain. It had been the one constant source of peace in your life.

Without fail, this was the place you had come to when you were broken down over and over again. And this time, as you curled up into a ball on the stone before the fountain, you weren't entirely sure you would be able to get up again.

You thought that maybe your head should be swarming with thoughts, but you could only really hear one thing repeating over and over again in your head.

Save him.

It was as if it wasn't even your own voice, the intensity it screamed at you.

Save him, save him, save him.

And the push of it scared you. You were teetering on a precipice, staring at the drop down below, and with every frantic shout it urged you closer and closer. You wanted to cry, but more than anything, you just wanted him to be alright.

How pathetic of you, wasting away for a man who was too blind to help himself.

No– not blind.

He was misguided. And overwhelmed. And he was trying to help you. This was all for you.

You're not sure when you fell asleep. All you knew was that one minute you were shivering, ice cold on the stone before the fountain, hoping that Anakin would wander in and find you here when he realized you weren't back at the room, and the next you were shooting upright, sweating and shaking your hands as if it could wring the feeling of the flames off of them.

In your dream, Anakin had been burning. He was on the bank of a little mound of molten rock, the lava inches from his legs, and he was alight with fire. Every single inch of him. And you were staring at his face, that beautiful, beautiful face, twisted with torture and agony. Screaming and screaming and screaming.

Your heart was in your throat, tears blurring your vision as you found the door to Obi-Wan's room.

He opened after a moment of you knocking, eyes bleary and hair sticking up in odd places. He was wearing a loose shirt and sweatpants, instantly frowning as he took in your condition.

"What's wrong?" he nudged you inside with a gentle arm around your shoulders, closing the door behind you. His room smelled fresh, like a rose garden and boiled herbs.

"Y/n," he spoke softly as not to startle you, leading you toward the island seat and immediately starting up a pot of tea. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I don't know what to do," your voice came out small. Like a child's.

Obi-Wan's face fell.

"Is this about Anakin?"

"We're going to lose him," your throat ached, eyes burning. "He won't listen to me."

Teapot forgotten, Obi-Wan circled around the island to sit in the chair next to you. His eyes didn't leave your face, alarmed and intense as he spoke his next words.