A/N: Just a short one-shot of an idea I got for Anakin/Obi-Wan. Very angsty!
You gave me five words: "Yes. I love you. Wait."
Padawans and Master relationships were inappropriate.
In a few years, I would not be a Padawan.
You would not be my Master.
I am not normally so patient.
But you are worth it.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are worth everything.
And you love me.
I passed my Trials.
I am no longer the Padawan.
You are no longer the Master.
We are equals, but you will always be so much better.
I waited for you to say something.
I had waited three years for this.
I can finally claim you as my own.
My love.
It is a few weeks later when I tentatively bring up the subject.
Your answer has changed.
It is no longer a "yes", but a "we can try."
The heart has been lost to the mind.
Do you not love me?
Did I do something wrong?
Are you afraid of the Council?
Is it because we are both men?
You give flimsy excuses.
We argue.
There is no time for us.
Our missions keep us apart.
I don't want a try.
We get through the arguments.
We always have time for each other.
"I love you" is not the same as "we'll try."
I dropped the argument.
It is your decision.
People can change with the times.
Perhaps I was never your type.
You say you just need time to think.
Was three years not enough?
I don't want you to think.
I want you to feel.
Be with me or not.
Don't make me wait.
Not again.
My patience is gone.
I know now your reasons.
We've been on missions.
Back and forth from the Temple.
You found other people to occupy your time.
One such person is Padme.
She is smart and beautiful and talented.
Far more than I can be for you.
She is a woman.
You deny it.
"Just platonic friends" is your diplomatic excuse.
As if I can't see the subtle touches.
The secret glances.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, you stole my heart
and put it in storage for three years.
I picked it up, blew off the dust,
and handed it back to you.
You returned it.
No apologies.
No regrets.
Like nothing had happened.
Like my heart wasn't shattering in your grasp.