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There is nothing more magical than the worlds you escape in reading for hours.
You can become an adventurer, seeking a great legend, or a fighter, ready to give your life for a cause, or a witch, enchanting villages to heal, or something useful, like a staple gun, or in love.
It would always take you away from the realities of your world. A galactic war, you grieve at night for; because you're you. And you're only the librarian in the capital city of Coruscant.
Besides, there's the Jedi Order and the Republic to fight the war. All there's left for you is to wait, and cry silently, and try to live despite it all.
You close the book you were holding, it was the last installation of the novel you were following. Towards the end, the female lead finally achieved her life's purpose— a happy ending.
It left you feeling empty, jealous even. Because she got to live a life worth hurting for— a sweet fervor. At least her suffering is met by an ending she deserves.
With a sigh, you got up and placed the book neatly on the bookshelf. The library was quiet, like it usually is. No one seems to take interest in thousands of stories waiting to be unravelled.
Maybe, they're actually living a life worth telling a story for. And you're here, stuck, looking for anything to take you off your own reality.
You heard a chair creak from a distance. You perk your head up, trying to find the source of the sound.
A lone man sat, holding what looked like a book in his hand. He was wearing robes you could recognize were of the Jedi's. Strange, a Jedi reading, even stranger, he was holding something, a pencil or a pen, and he was writing down in his book.
As the librarian, you wanted to come up and ask him if there was anything you could help him with. Half-hoping to hear what type of books he was interested in. But his eyes were focused and intent, like he was really immersed, and you thought it best not to disturb him.
So you left him to his business. It was already late, and your energy is already depleted from finishing your book.
The following days were identical. Arranging books, cleaning shelves, helping a few readers find their books.
The Jedi you once saw that night became ever-more present. You wanted to ask what he was reading, must be something good if he's willing to sit down and go through it rather than pursue colorful adventures as a Jedi.
You were finishing the inventory one night when you curiously peeked over the Jedi. His eyes caught yours and you looked away, embarrassed to have been so shamefully staring.
But then, your curiosity overcomes your embarrassment, so you walk up the Jedi.
"I can't help but notice you come here often" You began, trying your best to conceal your excitement. You wanted to know what he was reading, you needed some place to take your mind off.
"Oh?" He looks up, closing his book.
The cover didn't have a title, and you frowned at the let down.
"Well, I've never seen a Jedi actively want to read before" You commented, earning a chuckle from him.
"May I ask what you're reading?" You blurt out.
You could feel his gaze land on you and you suddenly feel conscious of being subjected to his attention.
He shakes his head with a lighthearted smile, and tucks his book to his robes.
"No, I'm sorry, It's not a book" He answers.
Seeming to read the visible disappointment in your face, he brings the book on the table again.
"Then what is it?"
"I draw, sometimes" He answers, handing you his journal, you turn the page revealing his sketch of the architecture of the library, it was elaborate, sharp lines that capture the symmetry of the columns, darker shades where there is no light.
Your eyes land on another sketch, a mech-droid. He even has a deconstructed version beside it like he had been studying how to operate it.
You turn another page, and you recognize a woman, Madame Jocasta, the librarian for the Jedi Library.
"These are really well done." You commented. "Are you a mechanic?" You asked, finding another elaborate deconstruction of a lightsaber.
"Yeah, you can say" He answers with a smile. "But I'm a Jedi knight, I'm only drawing what interests me"
"Why come to the library then?" You asked, turning to the last few pages, and to your surprise, you saw a sketch of the night you finished a novel you were reading.
Your cheeks were painted scarlet— following the lines he used to capture your visible dismay. You look up, stuck between being flattered and feeling embarassed.
"I meant to give you that" He scratches the back of his head.
You shake your head, deciding it was an innocent act to observe and draw what he sees. "Well, you got my nose wrong" You tease.
He chuckles, as if he's relieved by your positive reaction.
You dared turn another page and find another portrait of you, you recognize that it had been the day when you were explaining the metaphor used in your favorite classical tale of a boy who's got too much in his ego, it ended up being his downfall.
The Jedi didn't fail to capture the Twilek's reaction to your rambling and you laughed at the picture.
"I think she just wasn't ready to hear the tale of a boy who got too close to the sun" You explained the reason for the Twilek's expression on the portrait.
"I don't understand why it'd be a tragedy, Icarus was smiling when he fell" The Jedi speaks, and your heart skips a beat. He knows the story, you fought the excitement to urge him to expand on his thought.
"You know the story?"
"Ah, my mother used to tell me a lot" He answers. "She told me that he knew exactly what it'd mean if he went too far"
"And you think he was happy when he fell?" You inquired, curious by his optimistic view.
"I think he finally achieved his life's purpose" His lips curl to a smile.
For a moment, you held your breath, perplexed by how he interpreted such a tragic end.
You caught him looking, and you stripped your gaze away, closing his journal and handing it back to him.
You hoped that you've not made him feel embarrassed to not want to come again. The way he gave a fresh view on your favorite tale made you want to hear what he has to say.
"Well, if you're interested in drawing, I'm always here" You invited.
His eyebrows flash. "In that case, I swear I'll never bore the way that Twilek did. You can tell me all the stories you can"
Your heart skips and you can't help but smile at the thought.
"My name's Anakin"
"[Name]"
Anakin became more apparent to your life.
With your permission, he finally was able to study you, his eyes would narrow in focus, trying to replicate what he sees and how he sees you using a pencil, and you, reading stories and tales out loud.
In the beginning, you felt squirmish. He was really intent on looking at you, seeing you. No one else has quite looked at you the way he does. and you felt like every insecurity of yours was brought up front.
It felt like undressing; you thought, if he sees too closely, and unmasks you, will there be anything underneath? You felt like you were too mundane for him to look at you the way he does.
"And towards the end, she'd settle for a quiet life. She'd have lain on the ground he'd walk on, and this was a life she could see herself in" You finished the tale.
Anakin's eyebrows furrowed, showing dislike for the ending. "That can't be her end" He states his opinion.
You put down the book, happy that he was thinking the same as you. "Why do you say?" You encouraged him to speak more.
He doesn't stop looking up and down from you to his sketch. "She was an traveller, she wanted to sail" He recalled the synopsis.
"She was in love, it made her have different priorities" You considered the point the author made.
His hand halts, and his eyes land on yours. "If he truly loved her, he would have allowed her to become a fully realized person. He'd not have asked her to extinguish her fire" He looks up, as if in thought. "If he loved her, being near her fire would have been enough"
You smiled, surprised to learn that Anakin had been such a romantic.
"Well, what do I know, I've never been in love" You shrugged.
You look up to find Anakin's expression soften. You wondered what he was thinking of in this very moment.
"It's done" He says after a while.
He shows the portrait, and immediately, you see how unkept your hair looked. Then, how he deliberately emphasizes the creases of your cheeks when you smile and how he erased a portion in your eyes to make them appear as though it twinkled with light.
"You don't like it?" He says after noting your reaction.
"No, no, it's lovely" You answered. Though, you felt like it was too pretty, too idealized. Perhaps, he was seeing you in a manner you can't, for the better or for worse, you don't know.
He nods, you can see his reluctance to ask what you thought, then you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting he can sense, and he definitely got what you'd been feeling.
The following afternoons went like that. You freely speaking your mind and him carefully sketching, listening.
For the first time, you don't feel like there is a need to escape your world anymore. You wake up, filled with stories you wanted to tell Anakin. Your heart would skip every time you hear the bells of the library door ring. Or when you'd catch Anakin so deep in focus, as if he was committing you to memory, and over time, his sketches of you became more honest, he'd sketch your insecurities with charming strokes, and you don't feel as though you have to hide them around him. He looks at you and sees art. It felt like the most comforting thing.
"But that was the test, he needed to trust that she'll walk behind him, he has to decide that it would be enough" You challenged his view one time you finished reading a tale of two lovers, Orpheus and Eurydice.
He has finished drawing and put down his journal to engage with your opinions.
"Can you really blame him? The Gods were playing with his doubts" He defends.
"Right, he did walk to hell for her" You considered.
"But isn't that what makes it so tragic— they could have made it out, they were so close" You grieved, because despite knowing the ending, you still hope that somehow, they'd find a way to crawl out of hell. Enduring love like that earns an ending that is deserved.
"Orpheus was only a man. He chose to look at her, one more time. He knew if he did, he'd lose her. And he did. It's a choice not of a lover, but of a poet" He concludes, and you thaw.
You'd still find yourself mesmerized by his mind. The way he sees things, the gentleness that comes, not because of the absence of violence, he knows too much of it in the war, but because despite the abundance, he remains tender.
You don't know when you started falling in love with Anakin. You only know that he'd be the story that'll last for your lifetime.
Anakin hands you the portrait. And you smiled at the expression he chose to immortalize. One of when you're almost brought to tears narrating how Eurydice was always behind Orpheus despite him never hearing her.
"I wish I looked this pretty when I cry" You commented, tracing over the lines of his sketch of you.
You felt Anakin tuck a loose strand of hair to your ear. He was looking at you with the same focus, the same wonder, same fascination.
You've grown so used to his gaze, it felt like you were communicating something that can't be expressed into words.
"If you see yourself the way I do now, you'd never doubt my sketches" He softly speaks.
"You're beautiful"
His words latched to your heart.
Anakin is the most dream-like of all; sometimes he feels like a mere character of a novel incarnated into an etheric being.
Anakin held your face, and in the heat of the moment, you pressed your lips against his.
You thought, if anyone else can feel how he makes you feel, they'd never want to be anything else.
The understanding you craved for— he gave you most ardently.
Saying 'I love you' was easy. Sometimes, you feel as though saying it would not suffice for how enormously you felt for him.
Your afternoons became late nights, and early mornings. Anakin would ask you to stop smiling, so he could draw you in honesty, but how could you not? You loved the way he'd be so immersed, so lost in gazing at you.
It was a bliss you've only known with Anakin.
But you watched how slowly, he was becoming more and more tense. You're not fighting the war the way he was, being a General, wielding a weapon at the front lines.
He'd rip away pages in frustration, and though you try to soothe the tension and pressure, you're afraid that this story will end in a tragedy.
All your favorite romances leave you feeling hollow towards the sad ending. And with Anakin, you keep being haunted by the thought that any moment might be the last.
What an odd plot to be involved in; loving and being deathly terrified of losing it.
You wrapped yourself in his robes— wishing the feeling to stop plaguing you. Anakin had been asleep, and you stood by the balcony, deep in thought.
You tuck your hands in your pockets, feeling your fingers grow cold by the crisp midnight air.
A piece of paper crumples, and you unfold the portrait.
It was the night you first shared yourself with Anakin. Your mind is flooded by the memory; how he made sure you felt comfortable, how he took every moment slowly like the world outside didn't matter.
You didn't know he drew you, or that he kept it in his pockets. It was strange— to see the picture he loved most was one where you were sleeping. You tuck the paper back inside and go back to bed.
He's gone most of the days now. But you can tell he's making the effort to stay awake when he'd come to your quarters.
"—Love is not an everlasting performance in which you have to attempt to keep your lover's attention. Rather, it's the release of insecurity to trust them to choose to stay, no matter what they see" You narrated softly, thinking Anakin had fallen asleep.
You planted a kiss on his forehead.
"I don't think I've heard this story before" He speaks up after a while.
"No, you haven't" You managed a wan smile. "I wrote it"
Anakin was looking at you the way he used to before. Your heart ached, but you proceeded. "I love you with what in me is unfinished, with what in me remains changing. By you, I am forever dismantled."
Anakin holds you tight.
"Do you think it'll have a happy ending?" You spoke nakedly.
"Not all stories end in tragedy, my love" He reassures.
You bit your lip "We'll have to conquer the fates, it's been written so many times, a cruel ending" You can't entirely let your fears go.
"Fate gave you to me"
"If by some twist, we end in tragedy, then I am happy to have loved you" He says.
You let out an exhale. There was the simple truth of it; that all things must go, even Anakin. And like him, you felt as though you were blessed to even share a portion of your life with him. Loving is never a waste, even just for the brief time you're allowed in one lifetime. You decided it would be enough for you.
In his arms, it felt like you're unravelling a story that may have a happy ending after all.