Disclaimer: Star Wars isn't mine; it's all George Lucas'. I'm just having a bit of harmless fun with the characters. (grins)
Author's Note: This is my first SW fic. It was written two years ago (...yeah). It switches from past tense to present tense. It was inspired by ROTS - particularly the choking scene (weird am I, yes, I know).
The drabble contains lots of angst and sappy nonsensicalness. There are no spoilers, unless you're not a fan of Star Wars and/or don't know how the series ends. (If you don't know by now - all I can say is, tread carefully ahead.)
"He" is Anakin, "she" is Padmé.
- - -
She was his life, his light.
The one thing – no, the one person – who always brought a smile to his face at the seemingly mere thought of her, who made him happy, brought him hope – who made him live. When it all came down to it – he really was alive because of her.
She was his reason for living. Without her, he knew he would die. If she wasn't a part of him, she was him. And if he wasn't a part of her – he was her. Without one, the other wouldn't exist. They fit together – they belonged together. They were one.
And now she was dead.
He can't bring himself to come to terms with the truth yet. He is protecting himself with a flimsy last minute shield that he knows will collapse soon. Still he keeps it up – just a while longer, he prays. Just a while longer – I can't face it yet.
She's dead, he realizes with numb shock, and he'll never see her again – he'll never get to hug and kiss and tell her that he loves her once more – he never got the chance to, for one last time.
It's over. He can't live much longer without her – he knows he's going to die soon. And he accepts that.
As long as he's with her, even in death – he can face anything. For with her he found strength, with her he found peace and solace, with her he found love and hope. With her by his side, he is stronger, both in will and power.
And with her, he lives on.