𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱 || 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟎.𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫. ●

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WARNING: Angst! Abandonment talk, breaking up.

Smutty content. Handjob, dirty talk. public sex (kinda). (I'm sorry for my combos).

A/N: Sorry for the 2-week wait! I've been swamped with uni and I also wanted to drop this chapter on my birthday!! Seeing you enjoying my writing is the best gift! <3

I got inspired by Yours - Conan Gray, in case you want to listen to it for this first part of the chapter! Other angsty songs that help me get in the mood: Touch - Sleeping at last, Je te laisserais de mots - Patrick Watson, When We Were Young/ Love in the Dark - Adele.

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Obi-Wan's POV

The nerve-wracking sound of my shoe sole hitting the floor was driving me crazy.

Be tougher than this, Obi-Wan. She shouldn't have this control over you.

My head felt dizzy and it was not because our repulsor pod was moving forward to the center of the chamber. Forcing my eyes to focus on a determined spot, I stopped searching around the different pods in case I could find... her. My breath got stuck in my lungs when I saw a very elaborated headpiece, but I exhaled harshly as I noticed that it was the queen of Naboo.

To know that she was here... somewhere... was making me lose my mind.

I closed my eyes, calling in the Force to help me localize her, however, it was useless. Maybe I was too clouded by my feelings, maybe she hadn't arrived yet, nonetheless, I wasn't catching her force signature. I remained with my eyes shut until the pace of my breath calmed down, Qui-Gon's big welcome speech was the only thing my senses were catching. The rest of my body? Coldly numbed. Years of pushing her away finally worked.

There were countless nights where I stayed up, looking at the ceiling and wondering what I would do the next time I saw her if that ever arrived. The oath I took the day she stepped over my heart lingered around me: That I would never be the fool I once was. I was also not very fond of the idea of meeting her once more, because that meant having to be accountable for all the atrocities I had done trying to cover up the hole she left inside me. It meant having to face her rejection. It meant dealing with the fact that she didn't love me... as much as I love her and I would never be ready for that.

Depending on how my day went, I would sometimes go to bed drowning in rage.

In those days I thought of all of the things I would yell at her the second I looked at her: that she was the most selfish and inconsiderate person I had ever met. That she was a hypocrite for letting herself be carried away by what other people had to say. That she was a coward. A fucking coward.

I would picture her face shaking with tears as I vomited the truth to her face: How fearless could she really be, if she was not strong enough for love, even when that cost her own happiness?

I deserved better, way better than someone who would take me, a person willing to throw his entire life away, for granted. On the nights when anger invaded me I would feel the momentary relief of spilling out the bottled feelings in my heart. But the burden would only get heavier and heavier with each word, with each made-up scenario. It was like a drug; supplying the necessary relief, but the side effects made me question if it was worth it.

However, after repeating those words over and over in my head, I still didn't buy them. If I was so great, why would she dump me? Maybe I was the one lying to myself.