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❝Why do we keep doing this?❞ I screamed at him, turning around to face him with the coldest glare I could muster.
❝You must forget them. Attach...
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• SEASON TWO | EPISODE FOURTEEN •
THIRTY TWO.
— ☬ —
DUCHESS SCANDELS
We barely make it through the door to my assigned temporary living quarters before his lips are on mine.
Thank the Force we had split off from the others earlier. With Embry attending to Satine and Anakin long gone, sneaking away to his secret wife. For once, I didn't have to help him sneak away from the others, with Obi-Wan already long focused on me rather than where his former Padawan was trying to be.
After any mission either of us went on, when we were reunited Obi-Wan always examined me. Even though this time the mission I was on involved him, this still did not dispel his worry. The fear of my brush with death from the incident on Geonosis had cut deeper into him than I initially realized. I would always unwind under his touch as his fingers ran down my arms, across my cheeks, through my hair, and up my spine.
If he returned from a challenging mission, having lost a significant number of troops or even his own occasional injuries, he was always more desperate with me. Even if I was the one injured with just a scratch. He was harder. Faster.
Other times like this, he was just deliriously slow.
When we were alone, he always touched me as if he expected it to end—either like it was the last time we saw each other or the last time before we were caught.
I reveled in the feeling when our lips touched and my body would be crushed against his.
Obi-Wan rested his head against my chest, wrapping his arms around me while I tangled my fingers in his hair. I hesitated for several minutes before I spoke. "You've hardly said a word since we returned. Did something happen?"
He stiffened and became silent. He didn't speak or move for so long that I wondered if he'd fallen asleep. Then Obi-Wan turned his head just enough that I could see the blue of his eyes.
"Those last moments with Merrik—they were . . . difficult," he said at last. "When I caught up to him, he was dragging Satine toward one of the boarding ships and told her to say her farewells."
I tense slightly under him. "That's fucked up," I admit. I may not be fond of the Duchess, but teasing someone like that when you may kill them. It eats at a person. I would know.
He was quiet for a moment. I laced my fingers in his hair.
