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He first noticed the necklace when they went undercover as travelers into a small town. Satine had divested herself of all her other jewelry, and made a quite a show out of it as well when Obi-Wan had pointed out that, not only did they clash with their disguises, but they could also be recognized. Not many Mandalorian girls walked the streets in diamond chokers.
She had obeyed with only moderate complaints, handing her bracelets and rings to Qui-Gon who would stay to guard the spaceship. Lastly, she pulled a thin silver chain from beneath her shirt, with a small locket attached to it. She paused in consideration, then slipped it back under her garments.
“This one is simple enough to match the rest of the look”, she said. “And it can’t be recognized.”
Obi-Wan had only shrugged, eager to get the job done, restock supplies and be back to the ship as soon as possible. He wasn’t exactly paying close attention or anything of the sort, but he noticed Satine fidgeting with the little chain for the rest of the day. She would pull it out of her clothes, move around the clasp of the charm, toy with the chain, then hide it again the moment she noticed what she was doing.
And it wasn’t just that day. Apparently it was a habit of hers, one she had picked up subconsciously, because he caught her fidgeting with the pendant many times in the next weeks. He wouldn’t have given it a second thought, if it weren’t for the sense of sadness that surrounded her every time she noticed that her hands had returned to the necklace.
Obi-Wan wanted to ask her about it. He doubted he would get an answer though, so he kept his mouth shut.
•———•———•
When she ran into the forest, he knew he should go after her. He would follow her anywhere without hesitation, yet in that moment he felt frozen in place.
He hadn’t wanted to deliver the news. Master Qui-Gon had said that “it’s better if she hears it from you”, but he hadn’t wanted the responsibility. The look on her eyes when he shared what he had learnt was that of utter heartbreak, and he hated being even the least bit responsible for her pain.
It wasn’t his fault, he knew that. He only informed her of news that were shared on the holonet hours ago. But he couldn’t help feeling guilty. Perhaps he could have spoken more eloquently, offered her more comfort.
But what comfort could there be, when she had just discovered that her mother had been killed? Not only that, but the news reached them from an article, one where the old Mandalorians bragged about murdering the late Duke’s wife.
A hand was placed in his shoulder, and Obi-Wan turned to see his master standing next to him, staring at the forest ahead of them.
“I take it she didn’t react well”, he said.
“Obviously not! That’s her mother we’re talking about. You know how much Mandalorians care about family.”
A few moments passed, and then Qui-Gon spoke.
“Go talk to her. She will need a shoulder to cry on. Plus, we shouldn’t let her wander too far, she might get lost.”
Despite agreeing with his master, Obi-Wan also felt a pang of anger towards him. He could meditate about it later, but at that moment as he entered the forest in search of Satine, he thought that Qui-Gon was handling the situation terribly. Why had he sent Obi-Wan to break the news to her? Sure, it was known by now that the younger Jedi had formed a bond with the duchess, but informing her of her mother’s death was too big of a burden. And now he had to figure out a way to comfort her, as if any untrained mind could be comforted in the worst of griefs.
At least he had no trouble detecting her in the woods. In her distressed state, her existence in the force felt amplified, which only hurt him further. He felt helpless, for he was unable to take her pain away. A supposed protector, yet he couldn’t protect her from suffering.
He found her curled up on the ground, and he thought that, if she were on her right mind, she never would have risked ruining her dress like that. But this was probably the last thing she cared about right now. With her knees drawn close to her body and her head buried in her hands, she seemed to be trying to shield herself from an anguish she could not escape.
Obi-Wan kneeled down next to her and could do nothing but observe for a few moments as she sobbed next to him. People never displayed such strong emotions at the Jedi temple. He had no idea how to deal with that.
Slowly, he placed his palm on her back and caressed it, rubbing soft, hopefully soothing circles. Satine didn’t acknowledge him, but the shaking of her body steadily decreased. At first Obi-Wan was relieved, certain that this was a sign of calming down, but as minutes passed and Satine remained motionless and utterly silent, he began to worry more than he had at her initial outburst.
Was this normal? Should he call his master? But he couldn’t leave Satine on her own, not in this state. He opted for reaching out through the force, and he was consoled by the fact that her mind didn’t seem fractured. She was in excruciating pain, but for now all he could do was stay by her side.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but eventually he sensed Satine shift next to him. Although she still didn’t look up, she extended her hand towards him, reaching for his own. He offered her his palm, and she grasped it so tightly it hurt; though he dared not complain, he was more than willing to take away any bit of pain he could.
He moved closer, wrapping her into a hug. He had figured, in the past few weeks, that she enjoyed physical touch, and he would be lying if he didn’t admit how terribly touch-starved he was. Though, in that moment, he cared only about giving her some solace, or perhaps a distraction from her pain.
The sun had moved past afternoon, and soon they’d have to return to the ship. But the duchess didn’t seem ready to go anywhere.
“Satine?”, Obi-Wan spoke for the first time since he found her in the woods. It was barely above a whisper. When she didn’t respond, he gently tugged some loose hair strands away from her face, then tried again.
“Satine, can you hear me?”
She nodded, and Obi-Wan felt a spark of hope that perhaps he could help her. She would be terribly upset if she knew that the tactic he was about to apply -simple questions, one small step at a time- was actually one used for traumatized children, but he had no other knowledge of comforting people.
“Can you look up?”, he asked.
Satine repeated her short nod, but she kept her head buried in her arms.
Well, this isn’t working , Obi-Wan thought.
“Can you please look at me?”, he tried phrasing it differently.
This time she responded with more than a nod. Slowly, as if in a trance, Satine raised her head. Her eyes seemed almost swollen from crying, and the whites had a red tint. Her cheeks were full of tears, and Obi-Wan leaned close to wipe them with his free hand. Satine kept her eyes on him, as he had requested, thought he was beginning to regret that. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear to look at the sadness that plagued her.
He lowered his gaze, taking both her palms in his. Only then he noticed that her other hand was clutching the little locket, which was no longer around her neck, its chain escaping her grasp. Obi-Wan ran his thumb over her closed fist, and she opened her hand to let him see.
He hadn’t noticed it before, but the little rectangle was etched with a carving. Obi-Wan recognized it from some of Satine’s other jewelry. The symbol of House Kryze, she had told him.
She dropped the chain to his palm and turned her head away.
“Take it”, she said, her voice still shaking from the tears. He knew her well enough to know she was ashamed of sounding weak, but he could never think of her as anything less than admirably strong. “I can’t bear to look at it right now”, she added.
Obi-Wan examined the piece of jewelry, and he noticed a slit on the side of the metal. With a single press of the force, the locket opened to reveal two tiny pictures. On the right, Satine stood along with a little girl. Her younger sister, the one who had gone into hiding with their mother, only to now be declared missing. The left picture depicted an older couple in royal clothing. Obi-Wan knew that those were Satine’s parents, now both deceased.
The sound of a broken branch behind them indicated footsteps, and within a moment Obi-Wan was on his feet ready to fend off an attack. But only Qui-Gon appeared, carrying a flask. Without a word, he sat down facing the two youths and passed the bottle to Satine.
“Herbal tea”, he said. “It should soothe your mind.”
Satine nodded and drank the steaming liquid, though Obi-Wan couldn’t tell whether it actually helped. No more words were spoken. There was an understanding, painful as it was, that nothing but time could heal such wounds.
When the sun began to set and the small group returned to camp, Obi-Wan reached for Satine’s arm. She let him hold her, and didn’t protest when he placed the necklace back around her neck. He tucked the locket beneath her clothes, like she usually did, and led her back to the ship.
He would hold her close that night, and for as many nights as she would have him.
•———•———•
He had been foolish to believe that she would ask him to stay. He had hoped that she would ask him. He knew that he had broken the Jedi code, that despite his best intentions he had gotten attached to her. How could he get used to sleeping alone again, and waking up without her arms around him? He would have to live with both the guilt of breaking the rules and the guilt of leaving her.
He was in her bed, much like every night, except this was their last one. They had agreed that they should get some sleep, but there was no hope of that. At last Satine shifted in his arms, leaving his embrace to sit up on the mattress. Obi-Wan suddenly realized how cold he felt without her touch, yet he didn’t speak as he admired once more how beautiful she looked in the dim lamplight that illuminated her face and body.
Perhaps he was too busy appreciating her looks, because at first he missed what she was doing. She brought her hands to the back of her neck, and a moment later the thin chain that always rested on her chest, fell to the bedsheets. She lifted the small locket and carefully removed the tiny photos that were hidden inside it, all while Obi-Wan looked at her, curious as to what she was planning.
After placing the contents of the locket on her nightstand, Satine turned back to him.
“Give me your hand”, she requested.
Obi-Wan obeyed, wishing only that she would ask more of him. Ask him to stay. They had so little time left…
She took his palm in hers and placed the silver jewel inside his fist. When he looked up at her for an explanation she slipped back under the covers and placed a soft hand on his cheek.
“I don’t know if you’ll want to remember all this”, she whispered, “I wouldn’t blame you if you tried to forget… but I’d like you to have this, so you will always remember that I loved you.”
To say her gesture was heartwarming would be an understatement, yet Obi-Wan felt his heart shattered as he realized that this was her goodbye. She would never ask him to stay. And he would never make the decision to leave the Jedi without her encouragement.
“Unless you’d rather forget”, she added. “I would understand.”
“Satine”, he managed to say at last. “Why would I- how could I forget? Despite the hardships, my time with you was possibly the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Still, he should give back the locket. Jedi weren’t allowed material possessions, much like they weren’t allowed attachments. He should thank her and tell her that he didn’t need any gift to remember her, for she was extraordinary, a force that could never be forgotten. Then he should bid his goodbyes and leave before doing something stupid.
“It’s made of beskar”, Satine said.
He would keep it, a secret hidden and buried along with his guilt and shame.
“Thank you”, he whispered.
He had once joked that she would torment him eternally. He could live with that, he would love to spend his life by her side exploring all the arguments they could have, and getting to know each other all the better along the way. But to be haunted by the ghost of her memory for all his days was not a fate he had considered before it became his reality.
•———•———•
•———•———•
When he received news that he was to visit Mandalore, he tried to shut down all his emotions, out of fear that past longings would resurface. A vain attempt. The moment he returned to his room after the meeting, he went for the little box that was carefully placed in the back of his closet, beneath several layers of folded tunics. There were only two contents inside: his old padawan braid, which he was permitted to keep as it hardly classified as a possession, and the locket, the gift from a lover he had long given up on.
For sixteen years he had tried to forget, yet he remembered every little detail. How could he not? She had been carved into his memory, much like his deepest scars were etched into his body. The pain eased with time, but it never truly healed.
He had long ago made peace with the path he chose, that of a proper Jedi, as was his destiny. And Jedi do not ponder on ‘what if’s. So he no longer imagined the life he could have had with her. For the most part he was content with his life, or at least he had been before the war.
But when he rarely allowed himself to re-visit old memories, his heart ached at how much he still missed her. He missed the way she would smile at him -a thousand different smiles- a sarcastic sneer when they were bickering, a laugh when he caught her by surprise, a hesitant smile at the beginnings of their friendship, a warmer one as they grew closer, a sideways grin when he’d bring up an inside joke, a breathless smile as they gave into their passion when the tension had become unbearable, the most genuine expression of happiness when he told her he loved her…
The memories flooded his mind as he let his finger touch the emblem of the locket. He had never worn it once, but he had to admit it was a lovely jewel. Now he took it out of the box and examined it closely. He wouldn’t wear it. He refused to. For all he knew, Satine would greet him as an old acquaintance. That was probably for the better. There was no point in wishing for something they could never have.
He stuffed the necklace in an inner pocket of his tunic and closed the box without another thought. He could get sentimental over the padawan braid that still lay there another time, or preferably never. He had a mission to complete, a duty to fulfill and an old friend to help. The piece of beskar jewelry in his pocket was completely unrelated to any emotions he shouldn’t be experiencing.
•———•———•
“Is that…? Oh, Obi-Wan”, Satine exclaimed softly as she picked up the locket from ground.
“Ah, I didn’t notice I dropped it”, said Obi-Wan. “It must have fallen off my pocket when we jumped in here.”
The night on Concordia had taken a rather unexpected turn, and in the end they had to jump inside the fallen elevator to avoid the missiles. Now Death Watch was fleeing, and there was no point in trying to stop them. So Obi-Wan focused on cutting a way out through the metal wall using his lightsaber.
“Did you ever wear it?”, Satine’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
He couldn’t look at her, so he kept his back turned to her and shook his head.
“I see”, was all she said. She walked up next to him and leaned on the wall.
“How much longer is this going to take?”, she asked.
“Longer if you keep complaining.”
“I have hardly complained all evening!”, she protested.
At last, he cut out an exit large enough for them to pass through, and kicked the metal.
“Show off”, Satine muttered, but he saw the smile she tried to hide.
•———•———•
She had kept the locket. She hadn’t even mentioned it, she had simply taken it as if it was no big deal, as if she wasn’t taking back a promise of love.
Of course Obi-Wan had other problems in his life. He was a general, he had spent a large part of the war in the frontlines, he still had to be a good example for his former padawan… Yet in those next days aboard the Coronet, his worst concern seemed to be the duchess; and not just her safety, which would be a justified worry. No, he was troubled by her feelings, even more so than by his own resurfaced emotions.
They had spent days practically dancing around the subject, arguing and bickering and at times almost flirting, but neither acknowledged the elephant in the room.
It wasn’t until she came close to death that she finally spoke the truth. Obi-Wan, although hesitant at first, soon confessed his old dream of leaving the order to stay with her, if only she had asked him to.
Yet as she walked away to ‘return to the business of diplomacy’, he felt as if nothing had changed, and their relationship was still the fragile bond they had been trying to salvage from the years of no contact.
There was a mess to clean, and the flight deck was littered with the bodies of pilots that Merrik had shot without hesitation. Luckily, Satine’s Protectors offered to take over and give the Jedi a break.
On the way back to the guest quarters that had been assigned to them, Anakin was far too energetic for someone who had just killed a man. Under different circumstances, Obi-Wan would have lectured him about how he could have chosen a less violent way to de-escalate the situation. But he would feel like a hypocrite doing so when he would have had few qualms about killing Merrik himself.
Eventually Anakin broke the silence, his tone far too lighthearted considering the events of the night.
“So, what exactly happened back there with the duchess?”, he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You and Satine. What happened?”
For someone so intelligent, Anakin’s lack of eloquence at times could be astounding.
“Absolutely nothing”, Obi-Wan said in a probably-less-than-convincing tone.
Anakin’s smirk was a sight any man should fear, for it meant endless trouble was on its way. And this was his exact expression in that moment, as he opened the door to Obi-Wan’s assigned room and strutted in as if it was his own.
“So”, Anakin started, “I didn’t just arrive in the right moment to kill Merrik and save the day. I mean, of course I saved the day, but I was around the corner for a few minutes waiting to see whether or not you had the situation under control, and when it became clear that neither you nor the duchess were going to stop Merrik’s madness, I stepped in. But I heard quite some interesting stuff before that.”
Realization dawned on Obi-Wan, and he wondered whether he was simply very unlucky, or if perhaps the Force was purposely making his life into a shitty holofilm to entertain spirits and deities. Either way, he now had to deal with his former padawan eavesdropping on, not only a love declaration, but a confession Obi-Wan would never want him to know: that he had been willing to leave the Jedi order for love.
“I never would have thought that you of all people would ever even consider leaving the order”, Anakin said. “You’re, like, the most code-abiding Jedi I know. To annoying extents.”
He sounded almost hurt, as if Obi-Wan had deliberately obscured a part of himself from him. Which was precisely what he had done, because he had to be a perfect Jedi to set an example.
“Anakin, that was… a long time ago”, Obi-Wan said. “I was still a padawan at the time and… I know you must think I am a hypocrite for ever lecturing you about the Jedi code when I strayed away from it in my youth. But that was sixteen years ago.”
Anakin sat on the bed. Why was he acting as if this was his room? Obi-Wan was about to make a remark about that when Anakin spoke again.
“Do you still love her?”
“Anakin! How can you ask that?”
“Do you?”
He did. But how could he admit that? He had spent years trying to get over her, and he had made peace with her absence, only to be thrown in a hurricane of emotions the moment he saw her again.
“It doesn’t matter, Anakin.”
“Yes, it does matter!”, the young man protested. “Because no one ever told me that there are Jedi who have broken the code and remained in the order, Jedi that loved and experienced such strong feelings. I never knew that you’re not the picture of the perfect Jedi, or that you might understand. Why weren’t you honest?”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and the answer came easily.
“Because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone by admitting that even I have sometimes struggled with the code.”
It felt good to admit it out loud. Perhaps he should admit something else too.
“And I did love her.”
“And now? Do you love her still?”
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. The look in Anakin’s face wasn’t disappointed or judgmental. It was almost… hopeful.
The older Jedi refused to speak the truth out loud, but after a long moment he nodded. And he was surprised to find that he wasn’t ashamed.
“Well then go tell her!”, Anakin blurted, jumping up from the bed where he had been sitting. “She admitted today that she still loves you, so why are you still here? Go talk to her!”
“But, Anakin, the Code-“
“The code forbids attachments”, Anakin retorted. “And you spent sixteen years away from her, so I think it’s safe to say you aren’t attached to her.”
Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile.
“When did you become almost wise?”
Anakin rolled his eyes.
“When did you ever almost give me a compliment?”
“Oh, don’t start complaining, I’ve given you lots of compliments over the years”, Obi-Wan insisted.
“No you haven’t, but now isn’t the time for that. I’m sure the duchess is waiting for you.”
Obi-wan was indeed impatient to visit Satine, but he stopped at the door and turned around once more.
“Anakin”, he said. “Thank you.”
“Anytime”, the boy said with a smile. “I’d rather know the real you, by the way. Perhaps then I won’t feel like a constant disappointment.”
He walked past Obi-wan and out of the room before the older Jedi had time to answer, but his request was noted. Obi-wan would try to be more honest from now on. Perhaps that could mend the shaft their friendship had experienced in the past few years.
But for now, he had other business to attend.
•———•———•
Outside her room, a Protector stood guard. The man nodded at Obi-Wan in greeting.
“The duchess said you might come. She’s waiting for you.”
“Is she? Well then, it’s hardly proper to keep her waiting.”
His first knock went unanswered, but as he reached up to brush his knuckles against the door a second time, Satine opened up and greeted him with a tired smile.
“Come in”, she said, turning her back to him and walking towards a couch where -judging from the open bottle of alcohol on the small nearby table- she must have been resting prior to his visit.
She took a seat and motioned for Obi-wan to sit next to her. He obeyed, taking the opportunity to study her more closely as she reached for the bottle.
She had discarded the many layers of her official attire, keeping only the purple dress that served as an under-gown. Her blonde hair was loose above her shoulders, soft waves curling at the ends. To say she was gorgeous would be an understatement.
“Do you want a drink?”, she offered. “Excuse the lack of fancy glasses, but I don’t have the energy to go back to the dining room for the proper tihaar glasses.”
Obi-wan laughed and took the bottle that she offered him. It was a strong liquid, and despite his high alcohol tolerance, he took a single swig before the taste overwhelmed him. Satine was observing him now, smiling.
“Tihaar, huh?”, he said, assuming that commenting on her choice of drink should be a good conversation starter. “Isn’t that too strong for a casual drink?”
“Considering the events of today, anything less would be as good as water in clearing my mind”.
“Fair enough”, Obi-wan said with a chuckle.
Satine let her head fall back on the couch’s headrest and closed her eyes momentarily. She snapped them back open too quickly and reached back for the bottle of tihaar, but Obi-wan decided to risk taking her hand before she could drink more of that thing. He needed her sober if he was going to make any confessions.
“What’s wrong?”, he asked.
Satine froze the moment their hands touched, but then she turned to look at him and he saw a deep pain in her eyes.
“I never wanted this violence to return to Mandalore. I had hoped I would never see anyone killed again.”
“Oh, Satine”, Obi-wan exhaled, “there was no other choice with Merrik, and you know that.”
“I’m not talking about Merrik’s death”, she said, sounding almost irritated at having to state the obvious. “I’m talking about the deaths he caused. He shot half a dozen people in cold blood in the flying deck. Some tried to plead. I didn’t even know all of their names…”
She was clutching his hand tightly, probably without even noticing. She then turned to him with an accusatory expression and said: “I suppose you must be used to this kind of violence, now that you’re fighting in a war.”
He should have seen it coming, but her tone pierced right through him.
“You think too low of me, duchess”, he said, letting go of her hand. “Violence isn’t something one can simply ‘get used to’ . It’s revolting, and witnessing death makes me feel sick every single time.”
Satine seemed to examine his expression, weigh his words searching for the truth, or perhaps for the person she once knew.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re participating in the Republic’s war”, she said at last. “Which, if the rumors are true, started with the Jedi.”
Only then he realized that she probably didn’t know even half of the truth regarding the beginning of this war. It was common to blame the Jedi, so much that Obi-wan had given up correcting people. But Satine should know the truth. She might hate him for it, she might blame him entirely, much like he often blamed himself, but he wanted to tell her the whole story.
And he did. He kept his eyes fixed at the round wooden table and the half empty bottle of drink because he was unable to look at Satine as he recalled the events that had triggered the first battle. She didn’t interrupt him, which was never easy for her -she loved to offer her opinion at multiple points of any story. This time though she granted him the quiet he needed to explain how the Jedi had been given no choice but to fight. He went into detail, despite his wish to forget those memories. He had lost many friends in that battle, friends that were there because of him .
“Of the two hundred Jedi that landed on Geonosis that day, less than a sixth were alive by dusk”, he finished his narration. “Ever since, the separatists have been taking over planets, setting blockades and letting entire populations starve. The Jedi have to fight, there’s no other way to protect the people we have sworn to keep safe.”
He took a deep breath and turned to look at her only to find she was already staring at him.
“I… I had no idea”, she said with a shake of her head.
“We may disagree on when fighting is acceptable, but I need you to know that I despise violence, even though I have had to use it far too often as of late.”
A thin smile grazed her lips, and she took his hand in hers again.
“That’s good to know”, she said, squeezing his palm. “You’re not so much different from who you used to be.”
Her free hand reached up to her neck and she untucked a silver chain from beneath her high neckline. It was the locket she had picked up from the ground after their fight on Concordia. It belonged to her, yet he couldn’t help but think of it as his. She unclasped it and let it fall on his hand, which he had extended towards her.
“Do you remember?”, she asked, her voice so much softer than it had been earlier.
He didn’t need to ask what she was referring to.
“Of course. How could I forget?”
He kept his eyes on the necklace, because he was so close to her now, he didn’t trust what he might do if he looked up and found himself staring at her eyes, his lips a mere breath away from hers.
“Do you want to keep it?”, she asked.
Yes, was the first thought on Obi-wan’s mind. And then another thought: but there is more that I want.
When he didn’t answer, Satine prompted another question: “why did you come here tonight?”
“To check you were alright”, he said, silently cursing himself. “And to… to tell you the truth.”
“Regarding the war?”
He shifted on the couch, wondering how it was possible that in her presence, he felt like a crushing nineteen-year-old again. He was known as the Negotiator. He should not be struggling to find the right words.
“Regarding what I feel. For you.”
“Oh?”, Satine’s voice was little more than a gasp. She took a deep breath and turned to face him fully. He could sense the intensity of her emotions through the force, and his own worry was just as strong.
“I wanted to tell you that…”, he had to finish that sentence. For fuck’s sake, what had gotten to him? He ran his thumb over the carved symbol of the locket and decided there was only one way he could do this.
He looked up at Satine and kept his gaze on her eyes, those piercing blue eyes that were so much like the crystals of her jewelry, only a thousand time prettier than any jewel could ever be. And in her eyes he found the strength he needed to speak the truth.
“I wanted to tell you how much I missed you. All those years, even long after I made peace with our separation, my heart always skipped a beat when I came across anything remotely related to you. Any time I heard your name on the holonews, or I stumbled upon an article about Mandalore, or I saw a white flower or a teal crystal, I was reminded of how much I loved you. Not that I needed a reminder, because I never forgot. I never could. So I’m here to tell you that I love you, in every way I can.”
For a moment they both remained still, as if frozen in time -or in carbonite. Then in a split second Satine was in his arms, kissing him with such passion that all air was knocked out of his chest. He melted into her touch like he was a starved man and her lips were his only salvation. He didn’t need to breathe, he only needed her, he needed to make up for all those years. Oh, how he had missed her!
She ran her fingers through his hair and he let out a quiet groan, his body obeying her desires. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, he needed her to be closer, even if they were already impossibly close. She responded by pushing the both of them to the couch until his back hit the cushions.
The feeling of her thighs around his and her body pressed so close was nearly enough to drive him mad, but he truly lost it when Satine bit hard on his bottom lip. His hand traveled from her hips up to her back, searching for the zipper of her purple dress. When he found it, he gathered all his self restraint and pulled back for a moment, trying to catch his breath.
“May I?”, he asked. It was barely a whisper. Satine nodded hastily, her lips parted in need of air, clearly impatient to go back to kissing him. He did quick work of the zipper, but before he could pull the dress off her, she placed an arm on his chest to keep him in place.
“Promise”, she said, “that this isn’t just for tonight. That we’ll find a way to be together, even if it’s long-distance. Promise that we won’t lose each other again.”
“Of course, dear. I promise.”
Her smile was brighter than a thousand suns, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but mirror her expression, pleased in the knowledge that he was responsible for the look of utter happiness that was displayed on her face.
He only hoped that the walls were soundproof, or else the guards outside would soon hear a lot of things that would scar them for life.