Title: Missing You
Author: Oswald-Girl
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Siri Tachi
Time: Anytime after Siri's death in Secrets of the Jedi (20 BBY)
Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: K
Warning: Siriwan. If you don't like Siriwan, you're crazy, but just don't read.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
Missing You
When I hear your name, three things happen to me.
First, I am overcome with love. The love I still and will always have for you. I see your blue eyes shining at me as if you were here, in front of me, making a new plan after mine failed, like you always did. Your hair is loose against your shoulders, a spectacular shade of gold. The light hits it just right, and the top of your head seems to shimmer. Your expression is serious, but at the same time, a playful smile dances across your lips lightly, and I find myself resisting the urge to reach out a hand and touch your beautiful face softly and kiss you gently. I resist because I remember. Which causes the next thing.
Grief. For both your life and for what could have, would have, should have been. I will never be able to touch your face and kiss you like I so desperately want to. I have to remind myself that even if you were still living, I could not do those things. For we were Jedi, and we both chose to go our separate ways all those terrible years ago. And though I never regret choosing to stay at the Temple, I always regret not choosing you. I see you again in my mind, as clearly as I see the room before me now. You are telling me, as you did, that we cannot be. I open my mouth to protest, as I wish I did, but you look at me firmly, tears in your beautiful blue eyes, and reject me. I know you were saving both of us from a dreadful mistake, but to remember that moment is to have a fresh wound reopened. Your image fades slowly, and is replaced by another. You again, but this time, you are dying in my arms. As you make that fact clear to me in your ever so eloquent manner, I remember every last detail of how you passed. I wanted to kill him for what he did to you, I was so close to killing that monster, but I did not, my love, because you would not have wanted that, you deserved better. I tell myself death is a natural part of life, Yoda would be so proud. But, I cannot bring myself to fully believe my grief is unwarranted. It wasn't your time, you had so much left you should have done, I had so much left to tell you, and now I see all the times I could have spoken up, but I did not because I was so sure there would be another time. But there was no other time, you were taken from me just as I may have gotten you back. A tear escapes my eye and rolls swiftly down my cheek. If only I had the chance to tell you, one more time, that I love you. If only you were here to hear it, and tell me you feel the same.
But that is the final thing happens to me when I think of you, my love. I am thankful. For everything. But most especially for your love. Sure, I am very glad for the countless times you saved my life in the course of our friendship, but that gratitude is nothing in comparison to that which I feel regarding the time we spent together. Those short moments, before we buried our feelings, are truly the happiest of my life. To think of them brings more tears, but not tears of sadness. No, my love, these are tears of joy, marred only by the knowledge that those moments will never be repeated, and a sad smile spreads across my face ever so slightly. Yes, I am sad that we cannot have more of these beautiful moments, but the few we have shared are powerful enough to compensate.
Love. Greif. Gratitude. The three things that always fill me when I think of you. But one more thing nearly always happens. I retrieve your warming crystal from its place at my bedside, sit down, and allow every memory, the good, the bad, the ugly, and the worst, to flood my mind. The curve of your lips, the way your eyes shined like stars, the manner you used to carry your lightsaber, the elegant grace you possessed while sparring, the compassion you could show for any creature, how you struggled to live with our decision, how we avoided each other after, the mixed feelings I had when we agreed to be friends rather than comrades again, the way my heart sped up when you smiled, how the purple light of your weapon glowed against your face, your unnatural ability to say a thousand things with one glance. I remember for hours, until I feel ready to move again, to live again. And because I know you are here, watching, even if I cannot see you, as I stand, I whisper softly:
"I love you, Siri, my angel,"