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"You're tired," you remarked softly, standing with your shins pressed against the couch, your hands resting on your hips. The fabric wasn't very soft—scratchy even—and the colour reminded you of cold pebbles.
It seemed that it remained comfortable nonetheless (and not at all like pebbles), seeing as Obi-Wan had sprawled himself across the cushions—which wasn't exactly common for him to do. He tended to remain upright or neatly laying down; not hanging limbs and tousled hair and rumpled robes.
"The council was... unusually indecisive today," Obi-Wan muttered with little strength, passing a hand over his face raggedly. You hummed, feeling your heart tear at the exhausted tone of his voice.
You brought a hand to gently card through his auburn hair and felt the strands slip between your fingers like silk. A nearly inaudible, satisfied hum vibrated from Obi-Wan’s throat, vaguely pertaining to a purring cat.
It was amusing how easily he seemed to melt under your affections whenever he was tired—overly tired.
"Would you like some tea?" you whispered. You felt as if you couldn't speak much louder, sensing the dull throb of pain in the back of his skull—as if the pain was your own.
Obi-Wan's eyes flickered open, lashes lit gold by the beam of sunlight travelling along the floor and spilling across the couch. The colour of his eyes looked silver rather than blue, lit up from within as if a bright burning star had exploded within each iris. It was mesmerizing to look at, and you nearly missed his response entirely.
"That would be lovely, my dear—but I'd rather just have you."
You nearly choked on your next inhale, but managed to compose yourself. You could feel heat prickling beneath your cheeks, and you caught the amused gleam in Obi-Wan's eyes as he smiled up at you, lips curled like a leaf.
"I...I can stay—if you want," you stammered, feeling foolish that such a simple, innocent thing to say had caught you so off-guard.
Obi-Wan's smile grew into a tired, satisfied grin. Oh, you could never truly be annoyed at Obi-Wan, not even when he speaks in a way that metaphorically sweeps the ground out from beneath you, causing the air in your lungs to hitch on the way out.
You shook your head and let your knee press into the couch cushion. Gently and conscious of where Obi-Wan's arms and legs are, you lowered yourself onto your side, your head pillowed by Obi-Wan's shoulder.
Obi-Wan’s arm curled around you within an instant. His hand deftly trailed up and down your arm, fingertips soothing against your skin.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and you felt the soft scratch of his beard against your cheek as he inclined his head, pressing his lips against your temple.
You shifted further into his side as if you might bury yourself into his warmth, his soul—a place that seemed to cradle you. Gently callused skin brushed against yours, and you wondered if Obi-Wan had ever felt the same desire to carve himself into you, if only to remain warm and wanted forever.
You wondered if that was how he felt with you pressed against his side and the sunlight beaming across the couch. Even underneath the sun’s gentle stare, you weren’t sure that its heat could ever be compared to the heat that radiated from Obi-Wan—as if his heart had been replaced with a sun of his own.
As Obi-Wan’s exhaustion seeped into you, infecting you like a disease, you took his free hand that had been resting on his chest and brought it to your lips. In his weary haze, the Jedi could only half-heartedly murmur your name in question.
Against his knuckles, you whispered.
“May thy love for thee burn as does the sun.”
You felt the upturn of his lips against your temple, and his hand squeezed yours in a silent response.
May thy love for thee burn until the sun no longer shines.
thank you for reading, God bless <33
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