The Clone Wars One Shots

Poet

The first poem came in the night.

You woke up far earlier than you would have liked, and decided to go for a walk to clear your head before you were scheduled to begin cadet training for the day. You had been charged with running through training drills with Bravo Squad first - something you weren't looking forward to in the slightest. Though they were skilled, that skill came with arrogance. They were rowdy and exhausting, yet somehow no fun whatsoever. Not like Domino Squad, who, though not nearly as successful, never failed to amuse you.

The halls of Tipoca City were quiet and empty, free of the usual hustle and bustle of daily life on Kamino. It was odd, and rather unsettling. The white walls still reflected what little light entered the hall, illuminating your path with a faint, ghostly glow.

You took two steps out of your room, and heard a quiet crunch underfoot. You immediately pulled back, and looked down to see an envelope, now with your boot print over the name on it: your name, written in elegant, swirling letters.

You scooped it up and headed back inside, now wide awake and curious. Who would have sent you a letter? Normally, anyone who needed to get a hold of you just commed you. You hadn't even seen a letter like this in a very long time. You briefly wondered where the sender had gotten paper on the flooded world of Kamino, but that thought was tossed aside as you carefully opened the envelope, revealing the poem inside.

'Y/n,' it read.

'Your smile makes me smile,

Your laugh makes me laugh,

Your eyes are enchanting,

You make my thoughts seem daft.

Since the day I first laid eyes on you,

My feelings grew and grew.

In that first conversation, my knees clicked and clacked,

And those butterflies flipped and flapped.

And as I spill these simple rhymes,

My mind goes over time and time.

I have a crush, a little teenage crush

I don't know what to do about this lovely little crush.

I hope this doesn't seem too creepy,

Please don't think my thoughts have flown too freely.

Just know that what I speak is true,

And that I have fallen deeply for you.

- He who admires you.'

(But not actually. This is 'Lovely Crush of Mine' by M Sagnik Das.)

You stared at the elegant writing for a long moment, wide-eyed. Was this some kind of cruel prank, or did someone genuinely like you? You couldn't tell, and you weren't entirely sure if you wanted to know.

Your smile made him smile? Your laugh was contagious? You couldn't imagine anything so simple having such an effect on another person. And yet here was proof, assuming the poem was genuine. It seemed like too much work not to be. Too heartfelt. Too beautiful.

A smile slowly crept its way onto your face, which began to heat up. Someone in the city, a man of mystery, thought of you in a way unlike anyone else. A way that compelled him to write something so pure and so heartfelt. Nobody had ever thought so highly of you before.