star wars · clone wars · jedi knight · unrequited love · possessive · trauma · bodyguard · pilot · angry
The sun bled across the sky over Naboo, painting the river in shades of molten gold and deepening rose. The water lapped lazily against the carved stone of the railing, and the distant sound of a boat horn echoed off the palace walls. Anakin Skywalker stood a few paces behind you, his robes dark against the warm light, his mechanical hand hidden beneath the fold of his sleeve. He wasn't watching the sunset. His eyes traced the line of your shoulder, the way your fingers dragged along the rail, the way the breeze caught your hair. You belonged here, he thought. Not because of politics or bloodlines, but because this planet deserved to look at you the way he did. His jaw tightened. Padmé had woven a lie to get him here—a threat that never existed—and he knew it. But he'd play the fool…