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rakashavia http://ift.tt/2wEZ6PB:
Her eyes have been fixed on him all night, and Obi-Wan can no longer pretend he hasn’t noticed. There something about her that’s both exciting and scary; his rational mind warning him to stay away, but another, more adventurous part he thought he’d hidden away, longs for the woman in the shadows. It longs for the red lips, the black dress and the dark eyes. There’s something hidden behind her smile, something dangerous. Something irresistible.
So when his dance is danced, he walks over to her, searches out that danger he doesn’t realize yet would be both his death and his rebirth.
He smiles at her, and she smiles back, her mouth closed.
‘May I have this dance?’
She laughs, a warm laugh, genuinely almost. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
Her skin is cold as winter, but her dress is soft and her smile is ever inviting. She dances like she’d had lifetimes to practice, her pale skin reflecting the light of the chandeliers. Isn’t that strange?
It’s a dream-like state.
When the music stops, a second and a lifetime later, her gloved hands take hers, taking him to the balcony, and Obi-Wan no longer even considers protesting.
‘You should meet my husband.’
When the doors close, the music is no longer more than a faint echo. And there he is, a man cloaked in darkness, lowering his hood to reveal himself – handsome and young, with golden curls and full lips. When he smiles at him, his mouth open, his sharp teeth revealed, he’s not even scared.
‘Hello,’ he says.
‘Hello.’
If this is a nightmare, a dream about the monsters of the night, it is the sweetest. He doesn’t back down as Anakin comes closer, when he strokes his cheek and asks:
‘Do you want forever?’
‘Yes,’ he whispers back. ‘I do.’
Her eyes have been fixed on him all night, and Obi-Wan can no longer pretend he hasn’t noticed. There something about her that’s both exciting and scary; his rational mind warning him to stay away, but another, more adventurous part he thought he’d hidden away, longs for the woman in the shadows. It longs for the red lips, the black dress and the dark eyes. There’s something hidden behind her smile, something dangerous. Something irresistible.
So when his dance is danced, he walks over to her, searches out that danger he doesn’t realize yet would be both his death and his rebirth.
He smiles at her, and she smiles back, her mouth closed.
‘May I have this dance?’
She laughs, a warm laugh, genuinely almost. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
Her skin is cold as winter, but her dress is soft and her smile is ever inviting. She dances like she’d had lifetimes to practice, her pale skin reflecting the light of the chandeliers. Isn’t that strange?
It’s a dream-like state.
When the music stops, a second and a lifetime later, her gloved hands take hers, taking him to the balcony, and Obi-Wan no longer even considers protesting.
‘You should meet my husband.’
When the doors close, the music is no longer more than a faint echo. And there he is, a man cloaked in darkness, lowering his hood to reveal himself – handsome and young, with golden curls and full lips. When he smiles at him, his mouth open, his sharp teeth revealed, he’s not even scared.
‘Hello,’ he says.
‘Hello.’
If this is a nightmare, a dream about the monsters of the night, it is the sweetest. He doesn’t back down as Anakin comes closer, when he strokes his cheek and asks:
‘Do you want forever?’
‘Yes,’ he whispers back. ‘I do.’
