~~~~~Laurana's (Anamar's) POV~~~~~
I turn and see the love of my life standing right behind me. I hold back a happy squeal as I throw my arms around his neck. "OBI-WAN!!! I MISSED YOU, BABY!!!" I cry out happily. I hear my dad chuckle in the background. I look over him when he lets go of me, smiling. He is injured, his clothes are tattered, his face covered in sweat and a little blood. I notice a cut on his forehead, just below his hairline. Close enough that it probably cut a little bit of his hair off. I notice his hair is longer than when he left. It now lays down on the back of his neck but not quite at shoulder length. "I like your hair long... It suits you. Obviously, not as long as my father's.... but this length suits you very nicely." I gently take his jaw in my hand and examine his face. "Though you do need to shave... and we will clean those wounds up," I say, thinking. I quickly add, "Strip those clothes."
Obi-Wan stutters for words, with a look of shock mixed with disbelief on his face, "W-w-what!?"
I answer, "You heard me, strip now! I'll get you a change of clothes."
Obi-Wan says, "Can I go change in the bathroom?"
I reply, "No. Strip... right here. Clothes off, now!"
Obi-Wan answers, "In front of your dad? No, I can't do that! That's not even right."
I face palm and say, "Not all the way, you adorable idiot!" I shake my head and laugh at the look on his face. The look is a mix of relief and disbelief. I go to my room and retrieve a change of clothes for him. I also retrieve a medkit, knife, and a royal blue towel. Blue wouldn't show as much of the blood if it got stained. The towels which were a gift from one of my father's friends bear the J of our last name and the white wolf our segment of the family is associated with, for better or worse. I return to the living room, giving Obi-Wan the change of clothes and telling him to only put on the sweats. His upper body needs some work. Next, turning my attention to my father before I begin the laborious work of tending to Obi-Wan's wounds, I bring him a cup of coffee because he looks weary.
I ask my father, "What did you and Obi-Wan get into this time?"
He answers, "Well, Obi-Wan found his way into a thorn infested forest, which led to a village of uncivilized pirate outlaws."
I say, inspecting the wounds finding some of the thorns in Obi-Wan's wounds, "So the same song and dance as every other mission."
He says, "Yeah, just about. I mean missions not on the front lines are same old, same old." I smile a little.
I say, to Obi-Wan, "Alright, this might hurt, possibly a lot." Slowly, I cut around the first thorn sticking out of his side, between his 9th and 10th ribs. Slowly, I pry it out of the wound, using my thumb, index, and middle fingers. Obi-Wan bites his lip, avoiding reacting to the pain.
~~~~ G's POV~~~~
I lie on my bed, thinking. What is life worth for me? What is my purpose? Am i just a Jedi pawn? I turn onto my side for a moment in order to grab my improvised "stress reliever" from my nightstand and light it using my small lighter. I chuckle thinking of it as a stress reliever. I live by that lie, swearing up and down to my twin sister, to my father, and to my two brothers that I am okay. That i am clean. I have made that promise before. But every time I swear to get clean... I NEVER do. It's not that I don't want to... I can't, or at least I don't think I can. I guess there's a difference between the two... but I'm not quite sure what that matters in the scheme of things. Either way, I am in this perpetual cycle of hell. Drink, get high, drink, hit the low... sleep it off. Do it again. What else is there for me? To chase away the thoughts, I take a hit of the lit "stress reliever". The feelings just slip away from me, leaving my mind free to wander the impossibles of dreamland. My favorite place in the world because nothing matters there. I don't have to think about the she-devil that shattered my heart into a thousand pieces, I don't have to think of my bastard of an older brother. I don't even have to think about my father's disappointment. That much is apparent to me, just by the look in his eyes. I am a screw-up; I know that. I don't need him reminding me. I sigh, and shake off the truth of reality with another deep inhale of my "stress reliever". Halucinations of HER invade my paradise, and I sigh deeply. She was the last person I want to see. To avoid the hell, I must apply pain.
