The Apprentice || Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Chapter 19: Poetry •

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(Y/n)'s POV
I had finally fallen asleep, but only for a short while. It felt as if I had only closed my eyes for fifteen minutes before the world around me called me back. The soft rustle of the night, the distant hum of the city, and the faint ticking of the clock on the wall all conspired to pull me from the depths of slumber. I blinked awake, my gaze wandering to the ceiling above, where shadows danced in the dim light, creating a tapestry of shapes that seemed to shift and sway.

"Why are you awake?" Vader's voice sliced through the silence, pulling me from my thoughts like a knife through silk. I turned my head, resting it against the pillow, and saw him leaning against the headboard, a book in his hands.

I furrowed my brows, "I could ask you the same thing." My eyes darted to the book, though its title remained unknown to me, hidden by the angle at which he held it. The sight of him reading was unexpected; it was a rare glimpse of a side of him I had never seen before. "Since when do you read?"

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Since always."

I shifted slightly, propping myself up on one elbow, curiosity piqued. "What are you reading?" I asked, my voice a low whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile atmosphere around us.

He glanced down at the pages, his fingers tracing the lines as if they held some hidden wisdom. "Poetry," He said before shooting me a quick glare, "If you laugh, I will not hesitate to throw you off the roof of this temple."

I propped myself up, settling beside him with my back against the headboard, mimicking his posture. "I promise I am not going to laugh," I said, reaching for the book. He released it slowly, allowing me to take it into my hands. "But I will admit, I never pictured you as someone who enjoyed poetry." My eyes drifted over the words he had been reading: As I wander through the remnants of our time, I find solace in the bittersweet ache of remembrance. The world feels dimmer without your light, yet in the silence, I hear your voice, a gentle reminder that love, though it may wane, never truly disappears. It transforms, becoming a part of the very fabric of my being, a haunting melody that plays on repeat, urging me to cherish what was, even as I learn to navigate the void you left behind.

"Neither did I," he replied with a sigh. "This book belonged to my mother. She gave it to me the last time I saw her alive. I pick it up from time to time; it brings me peace in times I feel stressed."

I smiled, "It's a reminder that even in darkness, there can be beauty." I echoed the exact words I've heard Shmi say time and time again. That woman loved poetry, she even wrote it, unfortunately I don't know where that book went.

Vader remained silent, and the heaviness of the silence made me question his presence. I turned to face him, curiosity gnawing at me. When our gazes finally met, his eyes pierced through me, delving deep into my soul. "And in the midst of beauty, there is darkness," he recited. For a moment, his gaze flickered to my lips, as if contemplating something far beyond the moment.

Even in darkness, there is beauty: Me, my beginnings, the path that has defined me. I found a certain beauty in a life I once thought was meant only for darkness.

And in beauty, there is darkness: Him. A true embodiment of beauty, his presence surpassing simple looks. Each aspect of him radiated a charm, making him beautiful in ways that words could hardly express. Yet, he holds a depth of darkness that few could truly comprehend.

"You want me to kiss you, don't you?" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he observed my reaction. "It's what you've been asking for—my lips on yours, my hands leading you, helping you discover how to embrace yourself. To empower you to take ownership of your own body."