[Of course that's not how he remembers it. Their competing narratives are a long standing routine between them, how many times has Anakin complained about being bait? And how many times has he had to be the one rescuing Obi-Wan from captivity, or monsters, or buzz droids?
The moment stretches out between them, familiar and quieting as a lullaby, as a warm blanket. Their faces are level and Obi-Wan reaches up the way he once did for his padawan braid. This time his fingers tuck his hair behind one ear; unconsciously, Anakin's face follows the touch. The pad of his thumb slides down his throat and as calm and strangely peaceful as he feels, as everything feels, something keeps him from sinking into this space. Not a nagging pull, not a niggling voice. Like flying Anakin feels himself steered into Obi-Wan's orbit, and then with no warning or preamble, he swerves- responding to some code or cue that Anakin himself doesn't understand.]
Obi-Wan? [There's something gentle but weighty in the syllables, the way a boy once called after his Master, as if to be sure he was still there.] Are you going to eat me?
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The moment stretches out between them, familiar and quieting as a lullaby, as a warm blanket. Their faces are level and Obi-Wan reaches up the way he once did for his padawan braid. This time his fingers tuck his hair behind one ear; unconsciously, Anakin's face follows the touch. The pad of his thumb slides down his throat and as calm and strangely peaceful as he feels, as everything feels, something keeps him from sinking into this space. Not a nagging pull, not a niggling voice. Like flying Anakin feels himself steered into Obi-Wan's orbit, and then with no warning or preamble, he swerves- responding to some code or cue that Anakin himself doesn't understand.]
Obi-Wan? [There's something gentle but weighty in the syllables, the way a boy once called after his Master, as if to be sure he was still there.] Are you going to eat me?