Respite On The Spitalfields (Obikin)

"Forgive me, Master, I did not think before I spoke. It came out wrong."

"That it definitely did." His auburn brows knit together on his forehead and he missed the way Anakin's eyes darkened and his nostrils flared. He entirely missed the way those black wings raised as if in mild offense, which didn't make sense anyways.

Anakin's own brows pinched together at how dense his master could be, he almost wanted to reach through their bond to show him just what he smelled like to him. The black winged man cleared his throat, mind made up as he set his shoulders in determination, and corrected himself by saying, "sorry, what I meant was, you smell karking amazing."

*my love letter to the prequels, obikin, and Padmé*