Choose Your Words || A Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Story

Chapter 8: Pacify Me

At fifteen, Anakin decides it’s time to redecorate his room a little.

“Wow! That’s...not at all dramatic, Anakin.” Voice heavy with sarcasm, arms folded and an eyebrow raised, his Master is standing in the doorway, eyeing the lightsaber scorch marks on the opposite wall. “You do know that’s not how my name is actually spelled, right?”

With a not-at-all-dramatic eye roll and a groan, Anakin flops backward onto his bed and flings one arm over his face to cover up his flaming cheeks as he vocally wishes for death.

Behind him, in huge block letters, the wall reads:

OB1

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Okay, maybe it was a little dramatic. So what?

How else is he supposed to show his Master that he is the most important thing – the only important thing – in his life?

It’s not like he can give him flowers or gifts. All because the stupid, stupid Jedi Code – rather rudely, by the way – condemns material possessions.

And it’s not like he can outright confess his feelings either, because – apparently – “attachment is not the Jedi way, Anakin”.

What even is that kriffing Jedi way, really?

Hard as he tries, Anakin still cannot grasp the point of pushing all of his emotions, and fears, and desires down, letting them boil a little and then just waiting for them to blow up right in his face.

At least, that’s what Anakin keeps getting every time he tries that shit.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Bantha fodder! There is no peace for him. He is caught in a constant whirlwind of anxiety, jealousy, awe, adoration, devotion, admiration, possessiveness and love. All of those – because of one person.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

If there is knowledge, he doesn’t know where or what it is. The only knowledge he, personally, possesses is that he has no hope of his Master – his perfect, and serene, and dispassionate Jedi Master – ever loving him back.

And frankly, he would trade that particular piece of painful knowledge for a bit of blissful ignorance and foolish hope any day.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

Right, right. There is serenity. But it seems that Obi-Wan Kenobi has all of it now. While Anakin himself is a ball of pining, and craving, and longing, and desire, and barely controllable constant arousal. He is burning from the inside. There is lava flowing through his veins. His very soul is on fire. But sure, there is no kriffing passion. Just this Sith-forsaken fiery hell.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

At that one Anakin can’t help but laugh every time. He laughs and laughs, laughs and laughs, until he is completely hysterical, until he can’t breathe from his uncontrollable sobbing, until he weeps his eyes out, whimpering and whining as he falls to the floor, begging for his Master to come and find him. To gently gather him in his strong arms. To kiss him soothingly on the forehead. To let him tuck his wet, teary face into the crook of this neck and breathe, breathe him in until he passes out from his emotional overload.

And if he doesn’t come in time… Well… There is always this other option where the Force bursts out of him in an uncontrollable torrent, sweeping away everything in its path and wreaking havoc. And it’s probably a good thing that they don’t have much stuff (the stuff they do have, is either completely broken or has been fixed too many times anyway).

There is no death, there is the Force.

Which means no matter how much he suffers in this life, even after death, there’s no rest for him. Just kriffing great!

The recitation of the Code’s mantra always fails to calm him down, but never fails to get him in one of his moods. Oh well, at least one constant he can always rely on.

Anakin sighs and stares up at the soot-covered, sharp-edged cuts running deep into the metal of the wall.

They are but a mere reflection of what his soul looks like, scarred by his Master’s sizzling starlight.

OB1, the wall reads.

OB1, the scars spell.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s lips keep whispering like a mantra.

And it calms him down.

Where he is all emotion, and ignorance, and passion, and chaos, and death – Obi-Wan is peace, and knowledge, and serenity, and harmony, and the Force itself.

And Obi-Wan is all there is.