𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐌. ✧ star wars imagines.

Human. (Obi Wan Kenobi)

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*
May 14th, 2021.
✧~

THE SUNSET BASKED THE TEMPLE'S hallways in an orange hue, meshing perfectly with the tan tiles lining the floor and walls. At this time, most of the occupants — space wizards called Jedi — were out on missions, or training with their masters. Some Jedi did this, while others simply walked and chatted.

One particular couple did this often — unless they were occupied by their apprentices, of course. Jedi often talked to share thoughts and discuss upcoming missions, but these two Jedi conversed on a deeper level.

One, with soft, neat locks of auburn adorning his head, often found her after her training sessions, and took her on a walk — if he could. Often, she was carving her body late into the night, had she no missions the next day. He was the only one who could lead her away from training; everyone else who tried approached her with flattery— always "You have brilliant reflexes!" or "Your skills with a saber are unparalleled!"

She would take these compliments, but never stopped her actions for just anyone. She always pushed herself to be better — she knew there were always new heights to reach.

When this auburn-haired Jedi tried, it was only a fraction of the time he knew she was training. He knew better to interrupt her; after upwards of the two decades he had known her, he had come to understand her better than anyone else; he knew no one could separate her and her training. Over the years, however, he slowly began wedging his way in between— not completely, though. She would never allow that, and he wouldn't dare try to tim one of her interests.

In recent years, he tested the waters. He knew training too much could lead to injury, and he never wanted that to happen to her. So, he often — after being told by his padawan that she was nowhere to be seen — would stomp on over to the training room and ask her politely to stop.

If anyone else had the audacity to interrupt her and her training sessions, they would be given the worst glare, one that could kill. She used to give him this glare, but she loved him too much to even pretend to hate him.

In truth, his appearances brightened her day. They always had, ever since they were both padawan learners. Jedi, as protectors of peace in the universe, were told to suppress their emotions, as to not distract them from their goals. She couldn't help it, though — whenever she was with him, her heart fluttered. She always found her eyes drifting down to his lips. Even when they were hers, she couldn't believe it.

Every time she saw him, she wanted to make sure he was real and she wasn't dreaming, so she made sure to touch him somehow — a brush of the sleeve, a quick squeeze of the hand; when they met alone, it would be a much different story. There would be much more affection, the exact thing Jedi were forbidden from, but couldn't help from feeling. After all, it was only human.

She loved to train with others, pass on the skills she learned (but keep her favorites to herself). Most days, however, she was alone, practicing the forms that were almost lost but that she was determined to remember.

He often reminded her that it was okay to rest. He was the only person able to draw her away; he knew her better than anyone else, and saw beneath her surface-level polite, badass facade. She was kind, golden-hearted, but he always knew she was more than that. And when she started to crack for him, that's when he knew he was in love with her.

As the years passed, he understood why and when she trained — when she was stressed, worried, overwhelmed, and everything of the like. He had to say something that would appeal to her. Usually, he would give some kind of sarcastic comment to get her to pay attention. She would, and then they'd go from there.

He only had the authority to do this — if anyone else tried, they would astonishingly fail. He, however, knew just where to push her buttons, and how.

Today, he had done the same thing. Now, they were strolling around the temple, dreading when this wonderful moment would end. She unloaded her feelings onto him, but managed to keep herself composed whenever a fellow jedi would walk by. They were careful in public not to show affection, but she always wondered if anyone noticed the increasing amount of time they spent at each other's sides over the years.

She found herself glancing up at him often, his face made ever more handsome by the tan lighting. She stopped walking just to stare.

He noticed her movement immediately, the lack of her in his peripheral vision. He looked at her, giving the slightest tilt of his head as he stepped closer. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, then checked the hallway around her. Upon deeming it empty, she reached out to slip her fingers through his. Her eyes glowed, the stars they traversed through daily sewn into her irises.

"Obi Wan?" She whispered, praying her words wouldn't conjure a visitor or break the moment entirely.

He moved his chin from side to side before stepping closer, their tan cloaks brushing each other. He laid a gentle hand on her waist. "Yes, my dear?"

She smiled softly, reaching up with her free hand to cup his face. "Thank you."

He leaned into her touch. "For what?"

She studied his face — his eyes, perfect structure, and tempting lips — before returning her gaze to his eyes and responding, "Everything."

Again, he scanned the hallway for visitors, and when he found none, he squeezed her hand tightly. He led her into one of the deeper shadows of the hallway, where three structures cloaked them on three sides from any passerbyers, before pressing her to a wall and capturing her lips with his own. All the tension in her mind faded, becoming a distant memory.

Any time she got sentimental, she knew it was his weak spot. She seldom showed this side in public, saving it for their romantic private moments that left her lips pulsating and heart pounding. This moment, she knew, would have a similar outcome; nothing too intense, though. She knew she and Obi Wan could only share these small pecks in the halls— even this was risky. Anything further would be saved for their room, where they knew they would be alone and entirely uninterrupted.

Obi Wan pulled back, circling her waist with his arms. He held her close to his chest, valuing this precious moment.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She gazed up at him, stars ever present in her eyes.

She stood on her tippy-toes, planting another firm kiss on his lips —the ones she had to inspect frequently to make sure they were still hers. By his reactions, she knew they were; she knew they belonged to her, now and forever.

When she pulled away, she wrapped her arms around him, holding tight. "I love you, Obi Wan. I love you so much."

Together, in the shadow of the hallway, they watched the sun sink beyond the horizon, engaged in a tight embrace that meant more than words could ever say.

Through all the emotions they experienced with each other —curiosity, lust, and eventually true love— they both knew one thing:

Desire what the Jedi Order demanded, they could never truly obey the rules. Their warm emotions for each other were too strong, and they knew these wonderful feelings would never vanish.

And they never wanted them to.

After all, they were what made them truly human.

—

Hi! I'm extremely proud of this imagine, wow!! This ending is golden, in terms of structure and playfulness and— wow okay, pop off, me!!

Thank you for finding your way to my little corner of the Internet and reading this. It truly does mean so much to me :).

Until next time!

—dee.
DONAMEERE.