[He's been awake for some time. The nightmares haven't stopped since they'd arrived here, but even without them, Anakin has always woken early- for Watto's shop, and then for studies in the Temple. The implements in their kitchen are pretty antiquated, but they're in good working order and Anakin takes to them easily. He's on his second cup of caf and dressed in the dark, comfortable fabrics they've been provided- the lose ties dangle from his waistband and the short sleeves of his shirt expose the difference in his forearms.
Everything about this place feels opulent, not because they're surrounded by riches and gold, but because they want for nothing. The knowledge is strange, and painful. And humbling.
A knock sounds, and he knows without question who lies behind it. Anakin pushes to his bare feet with his mug in hand, pacing towards the door and tugging it open. His eyes flick from his friend's face, to the razor in his hand. Well that's new.]
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Everything about this place feels opulent, not because they're surrounded by riches and gold, but because they want for nothing. The knowledge is strange, and painful. And humbling.
A knock sounds, and he knows without question who lies behind it. Anakin pushes to his bare feet with his mug in hand, pacing towards the door and tugging it open. His eyes flick from his friend's face, to the razor in his hand. Well that's new.]
Good morning Master. Caf?