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How could it be so cold? The days had never been cold during the month and yet, on the 31st night of October, the night was freezing.
Even though it was dark outside, Obi-Wan could see his breath, shivering from the cold as he looked around the dark room for what he needed in order to light up a candle. The power had gone out the minute he crossed the threshold of the old house; its wooden planks, cracking underneath his feet as he stepped into the house, were getting wet with the few drops of rain that had clung to Obi-Wan’s clothes from the sudden drizzle that had fallen on him as he stepped out of the house.
Thanks to a match, Obi-Wan was finally able to bring light into the darkness, illuminating the living room and its old furniture that, despite the time that had passed since his owner had last sat in it, still smelt like Qui-Gon and his herbs. Obi-Wan’s heart twisted painfully at the sight of Qui-Gon’s old chair, the scarf that was responsible for everything still laying on its back.
Obi-Wan remembered being frozen in shock as Qui-Gon stumbled into the ongoing traffic after he turned back, getting hit by that car before anyone could react. He vaguely remembered the commotion that had followed, his gaze locked on the hooded figure that had scattered away, getting lost among the mass panic Qui-Gon’s accident had created.
Something about that hooded figure had remained with Obi-Wan, from saying goodbye to Qui-Gon as he laid in the hospital to the funeral that had occurred just a few hours prior.
Obi-Wan had never felt at home at Qui-Gon’s, no matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise. The enormity of the house, the loneliness that poured through every crack, the unsettled feeling it carried… It had never sat right with Obi-Wan.
A tap on the window startled him out of his thoughts. Peering outside, he was surprised to see a small boy – no older than nine years of age – staring at him with a smile on his face, waving with glee. His blond hair, in a bowl cut that gave him an air of innocence, fell into his eyes, covering them from Obi-Wan’s sight.
“Hi,” the small boy said, looking up at Obi-Wan from outside the window. “I’m Anakin!”
“You should go home,” Obi-Wan said, staring in disbelief as Anakin wasn’t getting wet with the rain, which had increased since he stepped into the house. “It’s late and your parents must be worried.”
“I can never go home,” Anakin’s smile was unnerving Obi-Wan, covering half of the child’s face with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “And neither can you.”
“Now what in the…”
“Qui-Gon was scared of me so he trapped me in here,” Anakin said, his smile growing as he extended his arms with glee, “but now he’s gone and I have a new friend!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Now I get to have fun ,” Anakin transformed himself into a young man, slim and sinful in his beauty. His hair was now curly and falling into his eyes, a scar adorning his right eye. His lips, plump and pouty, reminded Obi-Wan of those red apples he had seen when he had first met Qui-Gon at the orchard.
“You can’t keep me here,” Obi-Wan looked around the room, desperation clogging itself on his throat as he saw all the closed doors in his room. “I have a home to go back to.”
“That’s all true,” Anakin said with a shrug, his smile turning dangerous as he licked his lips. “But if no one is here to keep me entertained, well…”
“Entertained?” Obi-Wan asked, fearing the answer.
“The old man liked to have me meditate and think of ‘the consequences of my actions’,” Anakin said carelessly, looking at his nails in boredom. “But I don’t think I’d like to meditate much with you. There are more… fun things we could do,” the young… man added with a leer.
“Why would I do that?” Obi-Wan asked, crossing his arms as he stared at Anakin, who had grown tall enough that it was now Obi-Wan who had to look up at him.
“Because it’s either that or doom the entire world to face my wrath,” Anakin replied before flashing his eyes, a deep red that reminded Obi-Wan of an open wound, bleeding unable to scar. “The old man’s safeguards aren’t enough to keep me at bay.”
Obi-Wan was reminded of how Qui-Gon had become a recluse in the last few months of his life, barely leaving his house or allowing anyone in. Obi-Wan had broken in, demanding him to step outside and return to the land of the living. Qui-Gon had agreed, stepping outside of the house hand in hand with Obi-Wan, only letting go when he had realised he had forgotten his scarf.
“I have wanted you from the moment that I saw you, barring into Qui-Gon’s rooms as if he was deserving of your attention. I knew then and there I had to have you, one way or another.”
“You…”
Anakin shrugged once more, his hair flying with the breeze, the rain and wind unable to touch him.
“So… what’s it gonna be, Obi-Wan?” Anakin extended his hand, his smirk in place.
Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon’s old scarf, memories of their times together and all they had shared encompassed in one piece of clothing. He turned back to look at Anakin, with his beauty beyond words and a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, never breaking eye contact, Obi-Wan went to open the window.