Chapter 7

Around noon about a week later, Obi-Wan showed up looking for Anakin.

"He's not here?" Obi-Wan asked, looking around.

"No." I said, worried for a moment. "Why? Did something happen?"

"No, no, it's nothing." Obi-Wan said.

"We haven't talked in such a long time." I said after a few moments.

"I've been busy."

"Well, can we talk now?" I asked. "Please?"

"I guess." Obi-Wan said, sitting down in one of the wine-red arm chairs. I sat down in one facing him.

"How are you doing here?" He asked, making small talk. I could tell he didn't want to be here. And that hurt.

"Do you love her?" I asked, looking down.

"Hm? What?" Obi-Wan asked quickly. "Who?"

"Padme." I said. "Do you love her?"

"It's not really a good discussion topic."

"No, but if you really do, if you can look me in the eye and tell me that you love her, then maybe I can-----" I felt myself choking up. "Maybe I can move on with my life."

Obi-Wan glanced at my teary eyes. I'm not going to cry. He doesn't want to say it, I know he doesn't, but he knows he has to. And so do I. He looked me in the eye, those cascading blue eyes, swimming with emotion and said,

"I love her."

"Are you married?"

"No."

"Is she pregnant?"

"No."

"Am I in the way?"

I knew he didn't want to answer.

"Am I keeping you two from getting married?" I asked again.

"Yes, and no," Obi-Wan said. "There are many rules and policies and people keeping us apart."

"Thank you." I said, getting up and walking away. I didn't cry. Surprisingly, I felt relieved. But also empty.

"Wait, don't I get to ask you questions?" He asked.

"Yes." I said turning around.

"How are you going to deal with this?"

"The same way I do everything else." Cutting myself.

"And how is that?"

I didn't want to answer.

"Crying." I lied.

"I was honest with you." He replied. "I thought we were past lying to each other."

I don't want to tell him. I thought I was ready to talk about this if it came up, to him of all people. But I can't. I don't want to talk to him about it. The only person I could really tell would be... Padme? No.

Anakin.

"I thought I loved you, but I was wrong."

"Alright." He said, blankly. Was that why I thought I loved him? Because I could avoid my feelings, and my own faults?

I ran into my room, and entered the lock code so no one could enter. All I could think about was how I needed to talk to Anakin. How I needed to see his face, how I needed to have him talk to me and tell me jokes. That was all I wanted.

I fell asleep thinking about these things. Thinking about Anakin and wondering if Obi-Wan was still out there.

"Leena?" A pounding woke me up from my deep sleep.

"Yes?"

"Oh, thank goodness you're alright." I was Padme. "Can I come in?"

I didn't really want to talk but, I might have to.

"Yes." I stood up and punched in the code. The door came open, and instead of Padme, it was Anakin.

"Anakin, I've been thinking about you." I smiled.

"Really?" He asked. "We need to talk."

"About what?" I asked.

"I go on a mission next week, you know, that has to do with the Clone Wars." He said.

"Will you be alright?"

"I don't know." He said, "That's why I wanted to talk to you."

"You can always talk to me." I said. I wonder what this is about.

"I have been patient." he said. "Really patient, hoping that you would notice me."

"I notice you, you're my best friend."

"No, I mean, really notice me. As more than that."

"What about Padme?"

"There is no Padme. It's you! It's always been you!" He explained. "You're the only thing I have eyes for, and I'm suffering, waiting for some sign that you feel the same."

At that moment, he gently grabbed my arm where I had been cutting myself. I cried out.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, almost afraid. "I didn't mean to."

"No, no, not you." I said.

"Then who?"

"Obi-Wan." I said without thinking.

"He hurt you?" Anakin asked, in confusion and fury.

"No. He would never hurt me... it was myself." I said "Anakin, I know what you're going to say, but you don't know me. I need help, I need support. I need love."

"I have enough for the world." Anakin replied. "But I want to know all of you. Every last curve of your body, every fiber of your being. I want to be part of every breath you take."

"I cut myself." I wanted to cry, but I wanted to be strong too. "I cut myself because it made me feel better, it made the pain inside stop. It made me stop focusing on the emotional, and think of the physical. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"No, no shh, don't cry, just let me see." He cooed. "Just show me, I'll help, we'll make you better together. I'll take care of you."

I slowly, carefully pulled up the sleeve of my dress, revealing the numerous scars. To my surprise, he didn't pull away. He kissed it, as if they were a part of who I am.

"I want to help you." He said.

"I don't want to be this... this... monster I've become. Hurting myself to escape. What kind of person does that?"

Then, the kiss, gentle, but passionate. Everything I've wanted. Everything I've needed. And more.

He started to unbutton the back of my dress, but stopped.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"It's part of trust. You need to see all of me. You need to know my past, so you can save my future."

After the dress had fallen to my feet, I felt body conscious, as he looked up and down my back. I waited for some sort of put-down or some sort of cruel joke.

"You're beautiful."

It wasn't just a compliment. It was more than that. No one had ever told me I was pretty, let alone beautiful. It was hope, and life, and joy all at the same time. All from two simple words.

"You're beautiful." He repeated.

They say when a man says you're hot, he's looking at your body. When a man says you're pretty, he's looking at your face. When a man says you're beautiful, he's looking at your soul.