𝐒 𝐓 𝐀 𝐑 𝐖 𝐀 𝐑 𝐒 | 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 + 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬

if at first you dont succeed (please don't try again)

There are certainties in Obi-Wan's life.

Like the certainty that he always took his coffee with only a little cream and one spoon of sugar; the certainty that the shower head was broken, and only worked properly when tilted at just the right angle; and, of course, the certainty that by the time he turned forty, he would be driven irrevocably and undeniably insane by Anakin Skywalker.

Though, as he enters his apartment on a particularly unassuming afternoon, he thinks he may not even make it to forty before his sanity decides he doesn't need it anymore.

And so this is why Obi-Wan begins to think, and not for the first time (and certainly not for the last), that he should find his own, roommate-free apartment. His own, secure space where his sanity is not challenged every other day.

"Anakin Skywalker, I swear to the Maker ."

He's barely through the threshold of the door, keys still in the lock and bag still slung over his shoulder, when he notices the absurdly yellow thing sitting innocently in the middle of the kitchen.

And besides the fact that he is wondering why in the world a couch is blocking the path to the sink, there are more pressing matters at hand.

Like the fact that this is not their couch.

(Honestly, at this point he really shouldn't be surprised, knowing who he lives with.)

He squints at it; maybe he's just seeing things?

"Obi-Wan! Great; you're home!"

No, your eyesight is unfortunately fine. As is your hearing. He's never particularly wished for a vision or hearing impediment, but alas, Anakin Skywalker tends to have this effect on him.

Obi-Wan looks at the clock above the sink. He gets home at exactly this time every day. It shouldn't be this surprising.

"Yes, and I am starting to regret it," he tells the young man who has just recently swung around the corner and into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding the garish new edition to the decor.

Anakin Skywalker ignores him.

(This is about the only normal thing that has happened since he has walked through the door.)

"So," he spreads his hands, enthusiasm lining every vestige of his body language as his eyebrows raise and his smile widens. "What do you think?"

What does he think ?

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows.

He thinks he is looking at the reason why his hair is already graying.

"I think," Obi-Wan says pointedly instead, eyes scanning over the already cramped kitchen with its new addendum, "that cooking dinner tonight just became a lot harder than it should really need to be."

Anakin rolls his eyes, arms dropping. "Buzz kill."

Obi-Wan ignores him. (This is normal as well.)

"Where did you get this couch, Anakin?"

He almost doesn't want to know the answer.

"Me and Ahsoka found it in Midtown on the side of the road."

Scratch that last thought; he definitely doesn't want to know.

Obi-Wan seriously considers stepping out of the apartment, locking the door behind him, and throwing his keys down the stairwell.

"Midtown?" he asks carefully, the hand still gripped around his bag tightens. "Anakin, that is seventeen kilometers away, at least . And you don't own a car."