chapter fifty

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You woke up back in bed, your skin still warm from the bath, covered in fresh new sheets.

A quick glance down, and you realized with slight alarm, that you had no clothes on.

And then you remembered what had transpired only a few hours earlier, a content smile playing at your lips as you sat up and stretched.

Where was Anakin?

He wasn't beside you, and your bed was made crisp and neat all over other than the place you slept. There was no sign in him in the bathroom, either.

It was times like these where you thought it unfair, how he could wake up in this situation and simply just know where you were with a slight pulse of the force. But you had to go traipsing around the halls, peering into each room as you passed until you got to the living room.

He was standing before the window, surveying the city outside with his hands clasped behind his back. The dark blue robe he wore to bed hung loosely around his shoulders, keeping the morning chill out and framing his broad back. You hesitated by the doorway.

He stiffened as he felt your presence before turning around, eyes fluttering as if they've been closed for a while. Dark bags hung under his eyes– he hadn't slept well.

"You had a nightmare."

"It wasn't too bad."

"How long have you been out here?"

You felt awkward– uncomfortable. Morning-afters were supposed to be waking up next to each other, staring at their face as they slept, and tracing their features in the sunlight all wrapped upped under the blankets. Not this.

But more important than your fantasy, you wanted to know what was wrong. Anakin was always a pillar of strength, but he wasn't good at hiding his feelings. It made your stomach twist knowing he'd deliberately kept his dream from you; that he was struggling and you had somehow missed it.

"Not long," he answered with a small smile, crossing the room to reach you in three quick strides when he realized you weren't going to come to him. His hands fit over your waist, gentle as a butterflies wing, and he looked down at you. Wouldn't meet your eye.

There were many things you wanted to say. Mostly having to do with, "can we stop pretending you're fine and just tell me what's wrong?" but if you knew one thing about Anakin, it's that he would not talk unless he wanted to talk.

You just wished he trusted you with his feelings in the way you trusted him.

So you stayed silent, fiddling with the fabric of his robe, waiting for him to come back to you. In the meantime, you gravitated closer to his warmth, inhaling his breezy scent, and basking in the weight of his hands on your hips. So enchanting, even the slightest movements from him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a moment. The fake smile fell from his mouth, the shadows taking over his eyes. He ducked his head further, turned away from you. "I didn't want to wake you. Not after... last night. How good it was. I didn't want to take away from your happiness."

Warmth cracked the ice building in your chest. A small smile tugged at your lips, and you lifted a hand to trace the sunbeam striking across his cheekbone. Cruel, beautiful thing he was. And so unaware of how deep your feelings were for him.

"I don't mind," you told him truthfully. "I want to be there for you. Help you so you don't have to do these things alone anymore."

He finally lifted his eyes to you. Haunted.

"I have a bad feeling," his voice was shaky, hoarse. You'd never heard it like that before. "That I am going to end up alone either way."

Your hand froze. "What do you mean?"

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