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He lays awake that night, holding his blanket close to him, his knuckles feel as though they could simply fall off his hands due to how tight he's gripping the fabric.

 Zara had run her fingers over this material, down at his feet was where she had been sitting. It all felt like a fever dream to him, and maybe it was.

 Because in what world would she open herself up to him like that. In what world would she hold him that close for that long.

 At 19-years-old, he doesn't think he's ever thought about anything or anyone as much as this; And training to be a Jedi, that's saying quite a bit.

 If he were a bug, he would gladly let Zara Sidereus squash him with her shoe. If he were the dirt lodged in the bottom of her boot, a hitchhiker from some secret mission with Master Titan, he would gladly let her sweep him into the trash.

 Lying awake in her bed, Zara feels a shift in the Force, much like the one from earlier in the day. She feels Obi-Wan involuntarily calling out for her, like if she didn't follow his shaking voice, he would just shatter.

 Oh, how she longed to have his hands on her again. To practically hear his pulse speed up at any small movement she made.

 Without thinking about it, she's pulling her blanket up to her chin. A blanket made of the same material as Obi-Wan's, they had to be exactly the same, and yet, they were so different.

 His was soft and warm, like the sun on those days when their Masters ended training early. Hers was rough and ratty, reminding her of nights during missions with Elio.

 All alone, thousands of topics running through her brain that she wished she could bring up to her best friend, only he wasn't there. She'd write them down, but by the time she reached home, the list was nowhere to be found.

 Suddenly, Zara can't take it anymore. She throws the blanket onto the floor and lays in the darkness, cold air nipping at the bare skin on her arms, and thoughts of blue eyes filling her head.

 Obi-Wan's voice is calling to her again and he doesn't even know it. Eventually, it gets so loud that she finds herself in front of his door again.

 And just like before, after knocking once, it's thrown open and Obi-Wan stands on the other side. "What are you doing here?" he whispers. "You should be asleep."

 "I could say the same to you."

 There's a long pause as they stand in the dark hallway, just appreciating the sound of each other's breathing.

 "I can't stop thinking about you," he admits, and then instantly regrets it.

 "I can tell," Zara smiles, and then another pause before she reveals, "I can't stop thinking about you either."

 She can't stop thinking about the hug when she arrived at home, can't stop thinking about the hug in his bedroom, can't stop thinking about his hand brushing across her forehead, or his shoulders holding her into place as he speaks.

 She can't stop thinking about how his voice gives her goosebumps, or how his lips fill her dreams at night.

 But he can sense it.

 In a moment, he leans in to kiss her, but Zara moves away.

 But, "Not here," she whispers. "Someone could see us."

 Obi-Wan takes a step back into his bedroom, and she follows, shutting the door and stepping so close to him there's barely any room to breathe.

 His hand hovers over her bare arm, and the other moves to hold her delicate face like her features would crumble if he uses too much force.

 In a moment, his lips are on hers, so slow and perfect he's sure he's asleep. Her lips are just as soft as he had dreamed them to be, if not softer, and his nose is flooded with that floral scent that clung to her at all times.

 He's almost positive this is all just a dream; Zara's hands pulling him closer to him and kissing him like she's done this before.

 She wasn't sure what she was doing at all, but he seemed to melt under her touch. And she hoped she wouldn't wake up any second now, alone in her bed.

 After a few moments, the kiss calms down again, and they're holding each other. Gazing into each other's eyes, clinging to one another like they're trying to prove that this is real, that it's actually happening.

 Their skin is on fire. Zara's hand ghosting over Obi-Wan's clothed chest, and they both know they can't go that far. These simple kisses could do too much damage, that was practically a death sentence.

"Oh, Zara," Obi-Wan sighs once the kiss breaks. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do something like that."

 She brushes her thumb over his lower lip softly and his eyes flutter shut, both too high on whatever this feeling was to tell themselves that it couldn't ever happen again.






END OF PART ONE.






𝙎𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙎, o. kenobi ✓Where stories live. Discover now