Looking at Coruscant, you would not believe that it was the centre of culture. Amongst the towering skyscrapers sat a small island of green. It had become Obi Wan's favourite place. Here he could study and paint and draw to his hearts content.
"Are you almost done, Obi Wan?" Syl's voice came out strained as she struggled to keep her balance. She stood her arms in fifth position with her leg is arabesque.
Obi Wan looked up briefly, mischief and intensity lighting his blue/green eyes.
"Just hang on" he consoled.
"I'm almost done, you are a dancer you can control your pain"
"Yeah, but I am only a student and you've made me stand here for over one standard hour"
"Art is a pain, Syl" Obi Wan said, his eyes back on his drawing. He had sketched the outline of her body against a peach background. The drawing depicted Syl in several dancing positions, some at the barre and some much more relaxed.
"Okay I'm done"
Syl sighed and dramatically collapsed onto the soft green grass in a heap.
"Finally" she clutched her heart with one hand and pressed her palm against her forehead with the other. She looked the picture of a victim.
"You should do drama," Obi Wan observed as he put his art to the side.
"Syl rolled her eyes from her place on the ground.
"So…"
"You can stop right there" Obi Wan said, the smile still on his face but there was a dangerous edge to his voice. Syl rolled her eyes; she wasn't intimidated by Obi Wan's tone.
"Are you going back to the temple for more…" she sat up and made a vague hand gesture.
"Counselling"
"I have to"
"But you don't want to?"
"Didn't you hear the tone of my voice?" Obi Wan asked.
"Well yeah, but isn't it helping?"
"Syl weren't you the one that said you would rather be thrown into wet duracreet then be analyzed by a complete stranger about your feelings"
"That sounds like something I would say." Syl replied
"Well ditto"
"You're just stalling"
"You would know" Obi Wan answered. "You stall talking to your parents as long as possible"
"You know my Mother I have every right. You haven't even talked about your Jedi father….Qui Gon right?"
"Qui Gon wasn't my father…he was my master"
"But he was practically your father, I mean he raised you"
"You don't understand the Jedi, Syl" he said gently.
"But I understand you, I'm your friend Obi Wan, I want to help you"
Timidly she placed her hand in his, but his face had closed and although she was graced with him pressing against her hand, she knew she was further away then ever.
"Besides your not really a Jedi anymore" there was nothing but truth in her statement but Obi Wan turned away regardless.
He had forfeited one dream for another. He felt lost and found all at once. Cerasi and Syl had opened his eyes to a life beyond the temple, a future in which he could see himself. He missed the temple with all of his heart but he couldn't deny that the idea that he could be something else…something just as worthwhile was intriguing.