Life is what happens when you're busy focusing on eye color.
Year 7
——————
Vader
The next morning
I stayed awake the entire night. I cleaned us up, put my clothes on her before tucking her into my bed, then sat next to her and let it all replay from the beginning.
I hadn't anticipated the type of fear threatening her beloved Anakin would actually cause. I have felt her various emotions toward me as Vader, but the loyalty had always been there.
But I watched that loyalty crack. It almost hesitated at first, like a chipped corner. And then, as she comprehended my threat, the crack split straight through, fracturing her loyalty completely. She's never had to truly choose between the two versions of me. I thought she would choose Vader. I was wrong, so very wrong.
The feelings of fear and hatred that rolled off her weren't ones I'd felt from her before, and something inside me cracked with it. I knew what it meant because I'd felt the emotions before.
The woman loves me. Part of me, at least.
The moment Obi-Wan told Padmé she needed to leave me alone, we got married. He made us choose.
And I made Kitten choose.
I should have seen this coming.
When I can no longer handle the silence, I tear open my curtains and let the morning sun begin to seep inside my quarters. Unable to remain idle, I trudge into the kitchen and start making food for the first time in the Force knows how long.
———
Kat
The first thing I understand when I wake up is the sun on my skin. I can't remember the last time it happened...It is warm, even as the light chill of the air kisses my arms and neck. I am drained of life, but so at peace.
Am I dreaming? I must be. It can't be my bed. I do not hear the people bustling outside my room. My pillow and bed are certainly not this comfy. Oh, and the sheets. I let out a tiny sound of pleasure and spread my limbs, enjoying the silk all around me. I don't know what type of silk it is, but it is genuinely divine.
Perhaps it isn't a dream. Maybe I'm dead. The afterlife is sunny and silky.
Ah, but no. I'm alive, this much becomes clear when pain pierces my head. It fades quickly to a dull thrumming, but at least I'm not dead.
My body hurts when I shift between the sheets, but oh my stars, I am content. I must have woken up as someone else. I must be a senator in their beautiful holiday home...someone's cooking breakfast...
I moan another sound at my latest revelation. It smells so fucking good. Like bacon, fresh laundry, and Anakin. Oh, please don't ever make me leave this bed. Whatever gods there are, hear my prayer...
"Keep that up, Kitten. I dare you."
My eyes snap open at the dark threat, reality slamming back into me.
"Fuck," I seethe as I sit up through the pain.
Oh god, no. I squeeze my head with both hands, hiding from the sun and willing my memories to be false.
But they aren't. And while I am so angry with him I'm already shaking, that isn't it. That isn't what I think is breaking me.
He doesn't care about me. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to keep this up as long as he did. And I tried to fucking stop him from getting soft and gentle with me, because damnit! I knew I was falling for him.
The reason the realization hurts so bad is because I care about him deeper than I care about myself. I fucking love this asshole, but everything he did was a lie. Everything. He buttered me up, and I gave him all of me. Shit, I gave him more, because he got to know me from two perspectives. I gave each of them my all.
"I know, Kitten," he begins.
"I'd like to go home now. I need rest."
"My fortress is your home. You may rest here, where it is quiet."
"Please," I whisper, as it is all I can get out. His words would sound so fucking sweet and loving if they didn't come from him.
"Kitten, I'm leaving soon, I can leave sooner if you want. Just utilize this place, take a bath, sleep all day, eat everything in here."
I won't cry in front of him, but the tears burn behind my eyes and tickle my nose.
"Please," I say again, but I'm not sure anything comes out.
"Okay, okay," he says in frustration and...maybe disappointment. I feel the bed give as he sits on the very far corner, but I stare at my hands resting in my lap. "Look at me. Please." His voice almost shakes on the last word, so against my better judgment, I look up—and my breath lodges in my throat. What the...
"I'm going to leave. Give me five minutes. Hide under the blanket if it helps you bear it. Once I'm gone, if you still want to return to your sleeping chambers, go for it." Oh gods. I just need to hold out for five minutes. Every word he says pushes me closer to the edge though, and I think I might dive right off. I'm just not sure what the edge is. I blink once as he continues, trying to clear my obviously wrong eyesight.
"But I will not be back for at least a week, Kitten, and I've already put you out for the day for vacation time. If you need more, take it. Just please, please take care of yourself today. Whatever that means for you."
I can't look away from him. I'm frozen, barely hearing what he is saying.
His eyes are blue. They are sad and frustrated, but blue.
I know Darth Vader, I know Yellow-Eyes.
I do not know the man sitting before me. I do not recognize the regret in his expression or the way his shoulders are slumped and held too close to his ears.
Those blue eyes close tightly, snapping me out of it, and I watch him pinch the bridge of his nose. I don't know what to think, but my feelings are raging.
I do know that I love him more than I've ever loved anything or anyone. And I know it's a sword through my heart seeing him look so...defeated. This is Anakin, it's Darth Vader. He does not accept defeat.
"There is a door you'll find locked. Ignore it. It's not a juicy secret; it's dangerous stuff." He sighs and drops his hand. He wants to touch me. His hand repeatedly makes a fist and twice it twitches as if reaching out before stopping himself. I want him to touch me. "The secret door that I doubt you'll miss if you explore leads to the throne room. I don't advise you go in there today. It...ah, it hasn't been cleaned."
Is that...blush? Is he blushing? This can't be happening. This man is not the one I've fallen for.
Or, maybe it is. Maybe Blue Eyes is the hidden force I get glimpses of, the one who bought me flowers and smiles when I look at him. This...this is like the softness of gold versus the hardness of steel. Still metal, still Anakin. But gold is still more valuable than steel.
"But uhm," he clears his throat and suddenly stands. I can't seem to find my voice or even my muscles. "There is a room I, I prepared for you." His back is to me, and he lets out a deep sigh and presses his hand to his face, as if conflict is raging within him.
That's why I didn't want us to go this far. I knew it would break me, that was obvious to us both. But it is breaking him too. Perhaps he does care about me.
"It's just going to confuse you further. Maybe you should just go once I leave. I don't know, Kitten." A tear escapes my eye and I feel it splash against my shirt. I glance down, not realizing I'm even dressed. It is a baggy black T-shirt, it must be his. The motherfucker dressed me. Memories of why I had been naked flashes rage and arousal through me.
Damn him. He can't even look at me.
"I know you're mad. It would be weird if you weren't. But as you try to work it out, try not to put any blame on yourself, little one. You fought me the whole way." He shakes his head and his soft voice filled with emotion is enough to push more tears from my eyes. "We both knew this would be the result, in some capacity. I tried to stay away. I tried to find other outlets. Distractions. I should have been stronger, because the pain on your face feels like daggers in my heart."
He clenches his fists, and I want to reach out, to force them open, to place them gently on me. I want to know what it's like to be touched by this new side of him. "The whole damn galaxy could burn at my hands, and I could live with it. But I cannot bear the thought of even turning to see your face right now."
He is finished speaking, I know. I feel him beginning to retreat, and my voice cracks out his name, causing him to still. My heart is pounding roughly in my chest.
"Anakin," I repeat. Slowly, he turns. I crawl to the end of the bed and he takes a step forward, hesitant, almost scared.
"I'm so mad, and I'm hurt, and of course I'm scared. But I can't let you leave thinking I hate you. I physically can't." His thumb strokes my lips, and electricity follows his touch.
I was right. This touch does feel different.
"I hate that you tricked me. Hate what you did with the mask on. Hate that you let me fall for you. But I do not hate you."
"You should," he says with the ghost of a smile, his thumb still on my lips. "But I suppose 'should' is a useless word to us." He shakes his head again but looks at me with admiration. "You're as crazy as me, baby." I lean into his hand but when he begins to leave, I wrap my arms around his neck.
"Don't stay gone for too long, please. I want my anger to still be fresh when you return." He doesn't laugh, but I think he smiles as his shoulders release tension.
"As you wish, Kitten," he murmurs into my ear. He kisses my temple and is gone before I can blink.
———
He is gone three fucking months.