A Love Story

Slay The Dragon

Slay The Dragon

–

"What the fuck?!"

Every movement, every word, every breath of Sebulba's was abrupt and grating in the Watto garage where he witnessed the damage that had been done to his prized possession.

Anakin's head and voice sunk low as he spoke haltingly. "I'm sorry, man. We. . .we didn't see him coming."

"What the actual fuck..." Sebulba rounded the car, mumbling in astonishment. His hands hovered in front of him, looking for some proverbial reset button. "24 hours! You couldn't go 24 hours without crashing my car!"

"I said I'm sorry, I... I'll help you fix it."

Sebulba served him a look of disgust. "Fix it? I told you how rare this car is – we can't get the parts around here!"

"Well, we'll find them and have them shipped over. I'll even pay for it." Anakin suggested, loosely swiping a hand in the air.

"Yeah," Sebulba scoffed at him with cold, mechanical eyes. "You can start by selling Artoo."

Anakin's attention froze on those words. It took him a minute to land on his own thoughts. "I'm not doing that... You can take it out of my salary each month."

"Salary? What salary? You're fired."

Anakin tried to think through the shock. Sebulba wouldn't even look up at him. He kept his eyes on the dent of the car. "...What?"

"You're fired!" Sebulba spat.

Anakin's lips parted, speculatively. "I thought we were friends."

Anakin quickly became aware that even at his friendliest, Sebulba was only giving superficial glimpses of an actual relationship. Perhaps Anakin should have known. Sebulba's abraisvenses forced him to see everything as transactional.

"Friends? We were never friends. You're an employee." Sebulba couldn't even let an exhale past the moment before his fist slammed the side of the car. "I fucking made you! Who were you before you came to work for me? A broke farm boy with no prospects, sleeping on your stepbrother's couch. And this is how you repay me–" Sebulba's eyes drifted away from Anakin and sharply honed in on the car. He spotted a pair of underwear on the backseat floor. He lifted the panties with two fingers. Something coarse and ugly and mean shot out of his voice that came right from his chest. "destroying my car to impress your fucking wife?!"

"Fuck you." Anakin snatched Padme's underwear and walked out the door.

–

But how many corners do I have to turn?

How many times do I have to learn

All the love I have is in my mind?

–

Padme was lying on the couch when Anakin got home. A picture of innocence and patience and wisdom – before it is lost. She was relaxed as ever. He almost didn't want to tell her. They had been doing a good job through all the struggle of romanticizing the future, believing in their eventual success, even with all its holes they can't fill. He had no answers right now. How to bridge the gap between the life they are aiming for and the one they keep drilling into the ground.

"How did it go?" She asked

Anakin sat down with her, and she stretched her legs out on his lap. He rubbed her thigh in a back and forth motion to comfort himself as much as her.

"He fired me."

"What?!" Padme sat up straight in a flash. "Over an accident?"

"Yup." Anakin kept his voice low. It was the only way to stop his own frustrations boiling over.