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star-wars-writing · 3 months

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Beyond The Script

A/N: Caught between the glitz of Hollywood and the truths of the heart 💫✨. Dive into the story of Obi-Wan and Cody, where fame meets a love that refuses to stay hidden. I've been writing this between everything else, I hope you'll like it. @codywanbingo prompt flirting.

In the luminescent heart of Los Angeles, beneath a sky awash with the glow of a thousand city lights, the premiere of "Galactic Odyssey" unfurled like a modern-day epic. The streets, alive with the buzz of anticipation, were a tapestry of Hollywood dreams woven into reality. At the center of this grand spectacle stood Obi-Wan Kenobi, a beacon of cinematic brilliance whose journey to stardom was as compelling as the characters he portrayed.

Obi-Wan's ascent to fame was a narrative marked by raw talent and serendipitous discovery. Plucked from the vibrant world of London's theater scene, his transition to the silver screen was meteoric. His performances, characterized by an intoxicating blend of intensity and nuance, rapidly earned him a place among Hollywood's elite. Yet, with this ascension came a vulnerability that those in the public eye know all too well.

The necessity for a bodyguard arose not from the usual trappings of fame, but from a singularly harrowing incident that shattered the illusion of untouchability. It was a routine evening, much like any other, when an encounter with an overenthusiastic fan escalated alarmingly. The fan, whose admiration had morphed into a dangerous obsession, managed to bypass security at a private event, confronting Obi-Wan in a manner that was both invasive and deeply unsettling.

This incident, a stark reminder of the fragility of privacy in the life of a public figure, compelled Obi-Wan's management to take decisive action. Enter Cody Fett, a man whose reputation in personal security was spoken of in tones of quiet respect. Cody, a former law enforcement officer with a career decorated in commendations, had transitioned into private security, where his skills were sought after by those in the highest echelons of society.

Cody's introduction into Obi-Wan's life was a study in contrasts. Where Obi-Wan was the embodiment of charisma and openness, Cody was a paragon of discretion and watchfulness. His demeanor spoke of a life dedicated to the protection of others, a commitment etched into every line of his focused countenance.

As the star of the evening, Obi-Wan moved with a grace that belied the complexity of his inner world. Clad in a suit that mirrored the night sky, he was the picture of effortless elegance. Yet, those who looked beyond the surface would see the traces of a man who had learned the delicate art of balancing public adoration with private vulnerability.

Cody, ever present yet unobtrusive, maintained a vigilant watch over the festivities. His sharp gaze, hidden behind a pair of subtly tinted glasses, swept over the crowd with methodical precision. He was the unseen barrier, the guardian against the unpredictable tide of fame that threatened to breach the shores of Obi-Wan's well-crafted tranquility.

As the night progressed, Obi-Wan's interactions with the press and his fans were punctuated by fleeting glances towards Cody — silent acknowledgments of gratitude and a shared understanding of the world they navigated. To the casual observer, these exchanges were mere formalities, the routine interplay between celebrity and protector. Yet, beneath this veneer of professionalism, there existed a burgeoning mutual respect, a bond forged in the crucible of public scrutiny and the shared moments away from the camera's unrelenting gaze.

In this glittering arena of stars and stories, Obi-Wan Kenobi was more than a figure of acclaim; he was a man walking a tightrope strung between the allure of fame and the need for personal sanctuary. And in Cody Fett, he had found not just a shield against the unpredictability of his world but an ally in navigating the intricate dance of a life lived in the spotlight.

Cody's presence was not merely a professional requirement; it had evolved into a vital component of Obi-Wan's existence in this high-stakes realm.

Their dynamic was nuanced, a relationship that transcended the typical boundaries of celebrity and staff. In the quiet moments away from public eyes, in the confines of a car ride or the brief respite in a dressing room, their conversations strayed from the mundane to the meaningful. Cody, a man of few words, found in Obi-Wan an unexpected confidant, someone who could understand the weight of responsibility that came with his role.

Obi-Wan, for his part, saw in Cody more than the stoic protector. He recognized a depth, a sense of honor and integrity that resonated with his own values. Their interactions, though outwardly formal, were underpinned by a mutual respect and a burgeoning camaraderie that defied the usual conventions of their respective roles.

As the premiere drew to a close, and the crowd dispersed into the night, leaving behind a trail of memories and discarded glamour, Obi-Wan and Cody retreated from the public gaze. In the solitude of the car, the barriers of celebrity and bodyguard momentarily lifted, they shared a look that acknowledged the surreal nature of their world. It was a look that spoke of trust, of a journey shared, and of a story that was still unfolding, its chapters written in the quiet moments away from the dazzling lights of fame.

In this world of shadows and spotlights, Obi-Wan Kenobi had found more than a bodyguard in Cody Fett. He had found a steadfast presence, a grounding force in the ever-shifting sands of celebrity life. And as they drove through the night, the city lights fading into the distance, there was a sense of peace, a feeling that, in this unpredictable journey, they were not alone.

***

On a balmy afternoon in Los Angeles, the set of Obi-Wan Kenobi's latest film, "The Lost Empire," buzzed with activity. Crew members scurried about, setting up for the next crucial scene. Amid this orchestrated frenzy, Obi-Wan, clad in his character's ornate costume, exuded a serene confidence. His presence was like a calm tide amidst the stormy seas of production.

Lingering at the edge of this tumult was Cody Fett, his posture an embodiment of vigilance. Dressed in a crisp suit that did little to conceal his readiness for any eventuality, Cody's eyes, sharp and discerning, surveyed the surroundings with unwavering attention. The air around him seemed cooler, his demeanor a stark contrast to the warm vibrancy of Obi-Wan.

As the director called for a break, Obi-Wan sauntered over to where Cody stood. His approach was light, almost catlike, with a grace that belied the weight of his elaborate costume.

"Keeping the world at bay, Cody?" Obi-Wan quipped, his voice laced with playful warmth as he stopped a respectable distance away.

Cody's gaze flicked to him, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Just making sure the world doesn't interrupt your art," he replied, his tone even but not unkind.

Obi-Wan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "My art thanks you, though I fear you might be its only admirer today." He gestured toward the bustling crew. "They only love me when I'm on mark and in character."

"I find that hard to believe," Cody said, his voice betraying a hint of amusement.

Obi-Wan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Ah, but you see, you're not just anyone. You have the arduous task of watching over me. I'm sure that gives you a unique... perspective."

Cody's expression remained carefully neutral, but a faint blush crept up his neck, a subtle betrayal of the effect Obi-Wan's words had on him. He shifted his stance slightly, a physical reminder to himself to maintain professionalism.

"Part of the job," he said simply, though his eyes lingered on Obi-Wan for a moment longer than necessary.

Obi-Wan's smile broadened, sensing the slight crack in Cody's armor. "I'm grateful for it, truly. It's not every day one finds a guardian who can withstand the chaos of Hollywood with such stoic grace."

Cody cleared his throat, looking away for a moment as if checking the perimeter. "It's not as challenging as it seems," he said, returning his gaze to Obi-Wan. "You're not as high maintenance as some might think."

"Ah, so I'm low maintenance, then? I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you," Obi-Wan teased, his tone light and airy.

Cody's mouth twitched, a smile threatening to break through. "I didn't say that," he countered, but the softness in his eyes contradicted the words.

Their banter was interrupted by the director's call to resume filming. Obi-Wan gave Cody a final, lingering look, a silent thank you wrapped in a shared joke, before turning back to his world of make-believe.

As Obi-Wan walked away, Cody watched him go, the faintest of smiles still playing on his lips. For a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of being affected by Obi-Wan's charm, a brief lapse in his otherwise impenetrable facade. Then, like a mask being put back in place, his expression shifted back to one of unwavering professionalism, ready to resume his role as the silent guardian in the captivating narrative of Obi-Wan Kenobi's life.

***

As the Californian sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the set of "The Lost Empire" transitioned into a nocturnal realm of artificial lights and heightened emotions. In this twilight world, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett found themselves in a moment of rare solitude, away from the prying eyes of the crew.

Leaning against a prop column, Obi-Wan watched Cody with a contemplative gaze. The bodyguard stood a few feet away, his eyes scanning the perimeter with habitual diligence. The fading light cast shadows across his face, accentuating the sharpness of his features.

"You know, Cody," Obi-Wan began, his voice breaking the silence between them, "I've always admired how you see everything and yet reveal so little."

Cody turned, his expression unreadable. "It's part of the job," he replied, his tone steady.

Obi-Wan pushed off from the column, taking a step closer. "But what about what you feel? Does the job cover that too?"

Cody's gaze faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "Feelings aren't a luxury I can afford in my line of work," he said, though his voice carried a hint of resignation.

Obi-Wan's expression softened. "That must be lonely," he murmured, moving closer still.

For a moment, Cody looked as if he might step back, maintain the physical distance that mirrored their professional boundaries. But he didn’t. Instead, he held Obi-Wan's gaze, a silent admission of the truth in those words.

"It can be," Cody conceded, his guard dropping ever so slightly. "But it's the life I chose."

Obi-Wan’s smile was gentle, empathetic. "And yet, here we are," he said, closing the distance between them. "Two people, chosen lives apart, finding common ground in the unlikeliest of places."

Cody looked at him, really looked at him, seeing not just the actor or the public figure, but the man beneath. "It's not just about seeing, Obi-Wan," he said quietly. "It's about understanding. And maybe that's where the lines start to blur."

The air between them was charged with an unspoken tension, a recognition of something deeper than mere professional rapport. Obi-Wan’s usual playful demeanor had given way to something more sincere, more vulnerable.

"You understand more than you let on," Obi-Wan said, his voice a mere whisper. "And that's what makes this so..."

"Complicated," Cody finished for him, the word hanging in the air like a confession.

Obi-Wan nodded, a rueful smile playing on his lips. "Complicated," he echoed.

They stood there for a moment, the world around them fading into a blur. In the eyes of the other, each saw a reflection of their own complexity, their own hidden depths. It was a connection that transcended their roles, a meeting of minds and souls on a level that neither had anticipated.

Finally, Cody stepped back, the spell breaking as he reasserted his professional demeanor. "We should get back," he said, his voice once again the bodyguard's, not the man's.

Obi-Wan's smile didn't fade, but there was a newfound respect in his eyes. "Yes, we should," he agreed, stepping back as well.

As they returned to the set, the electric buzz of production resuming around them, the moment they shared lingered like a secret, a promise of something more, something deeper than the roles they played in the public eye. It was a glimpse into a potential future, where the lines between protector and protected, between professional and personal, might one day blur into something beautiful and profound.

****

The vibrant heart of the city pulsed with life as Obi-Wan Kenobi, accompanied by Cody Fett, navigated through the bustling streets of downtown Los Angeles. They were a study in contrasts: Obi-Wan, ever the charismatic figure, moved with a casual ease that attracted glances and whispers, while Cody, the epitome of vigilance, scanned their surroundings with a practiced eye.

Their destination was a quaint bookstore nestled in a less frequented part of town, a haven for Obi-Wan away from the glitz of Hollywood. As they entered, the soft tinkle of a bell announced their arrival, contrasting starkly with the cacophony of the city outside.

Obi-Wan's demeanor shifted as he crossed the threshold, a sense of tranquility seeming to wash over him. His eyes lit up with the joy of a child as he perused the shelves, his fingers trailing over the spines of the books with reverence.

the noise of the city was replaced by the hushed reverence of a sanctuary dedicated to the written word. The air was heavy with the scent of paper and ink, an aroma that spoke of untold stories and forgotten worlds.

Obi-Wan, usually so composed and graceful under the scrutiny of the public eye, transformed as he entered this realm of books. His steps became more leisurely, his expression more reflective. It was as if each book he touched brought him a sense of peace, a connection to something beyond his life as a celebrated actor.

Cody, following at a discreet distance, observed this change with a quiet curiosity. Here, in this unassuming bookstore, he saw a side of Obi-Wan rarely revealed to the world. Away from the cameras and the lights, Obi-Wan was not the star; he was a seeker of stories, a man who found joy in the quietude of reading.

"Were you always this passionate about books?" Cody asked, breaking their comfortable silence. His voice was gentle, almost hesitant, as if afraid to intrude upon this private side of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes bright with a passion that went beyond his on-screen personas. "Always," he replied with a soft smile. "Books were my first escape, my first love. They opened worlds to me when my own world seemed too small, too confining."

Cody nodded, taking in the earnestness in Obi-Wan's voice. "I can't say I've had the same relationship with books," he admitted. "Most of my reading has been more... functional."

"There's a book for everyone, Cody," Obi-Wan said, his tone encouraging. He reached for a novel from a nearby shelf, its cover worn from frequent handling. "Take this one, for example. It's not just a story; it's a study of the human condition, of the choices we make and the paths they lead us down."

Cody accepted the book, examining it with a newfound interest. "I suppose there's more to books than just words on a page," he mused.

"Much more," Obi-Wan agreed. "They're conversations with the past, dialogues with minds we'll never meet. They're the closest thing to magic in our world."

As they continued through the aisles, their conversation meandered from favorite genres to beloved authors. Obi-Wan spoke of the books that had shaped him, of the characters that had stayed with him long after the final page. Cody listened, offering his own insights where he could, but mostly he absorbed the world through Obi-Wan's eyes.

It was easy, in this place, to forget the roles they played in the outside world. Obi-Wan was not the celebrity, and Cody was not the bodyguard. They were just two men, sharing a moment of connection in a world built on stories.

As they left the bookstore, the spell of the quiet sanctuary was broken by the return to the bustling streets. But the conversation, the shared experience, lingered between them. For Cody, it was a glimpse into the depth of Obi-Wan's character, a reminder that beneath the façade of fame lay a man of substance and intellect.

And for Obi-Wan, it was a rare opportunity to share a piece of his true self, to connect with someone who saw him not as a star to be admired from afar, but as a person, complex and real.

***

As the afternoon sun cast its golden light over the city, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett found themselves walking towards a sprawling park, a verdant oasis amidst the urban landscape. The park was alive with the sounds of laughter and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, a stark contrast to the quietude of the bookstore they had just left.

Obi-Wan's stride was relaxed, a contented smile playing on his lips as they approached a group of people gathered under a large oak tree. These were Obi-Wan's friends, a diverse group of individuals from various walks of life, each connected by their shared affection for the man who now joined them with a warm, inclusive energy.

Cody hung back slightly, his role as a bodyguard ever-present in his mind, but his attention was drawn to the scene before him. He watched as Obi-Wan seamlessly melded into the group, his laughter mingling with theirs, his hands animated as he shared a story that had everyone leaning in, captivated.

It was a side of Obi-Wan that Cody had glimpsed only in fragments - Obi-Wan, the friend; Obi-Wan, the storyteller; Obi-Wan, the man unburdened by the weight of his public persona. Here, amidst friends, he was unguarded and genuine, his charismatic presence a natural extension of his character rather than a façade for the public.

Cody felt an unexpected twinge in his chest, a longing that was hard to define. It was a desire to know this Obi-Wan, to understand the man behind the celebrity. He realized that despite the time they had spent together, there was so much of Obi-Wan he had yet to discover, so many layers yet to be uncovered.

As the afternoon waned, Cody observed the interactions, the easy camaraderie, and the shared laughter. He noticed how Obi-Wan's eyes lit up when he spoke of his passions, how his gestures became more animated, how he listened with genuine interest to his friends’ stories. There was a warmth there, a sense of belonging, that Cody found himself inexplicably drawn to.

At one point, Obi-Wan glanced over at Cody, a silent invitation to join them. Cody hesitated, his professional instincts warring with the growing desire to step beyond the boundaries of his role. He remained where he was, a silent observer, yet that glance from Obi-Wan stayed with him, a reminder of the bridge that was slowly forming between their worlds.

As the group dispersed with the setting sun, and they made their way back through the park, Cody found himself walking beside Obi-Wan, a comfortable silence between them. It was a silence filled with unspoken words, a mutual recognition of the day's shared experiences.

Cody realized then that his role as Obi-Wan's bodyguard had evolved into something more complex. He was not just protecting a celebrity; he was safeguarding a person who had unknowingly begun to occupy a space in his thoughts, a person whose depth and authenticity had captivated him in ways he hadn't anticipated.

And as they left the tranquility of the park, returning to the reality of their lives, Cody knew that his longing was not just to know Obi-Wan better but to understand the connection that was undeniably growing between them, a connection that blurred the lines of duty and personal interest, hinting at the possibility of something deeper.

***

The world outside the airplane window was a canvas of cloud and sky, a vast expanse of blue that stretched endlessly as Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett embarked on a whirlwind promotional tour for "The Lost Empire." Seated side by side in the first-class cabin, the hum of the aircraft's engines provided a constant backdrop to their conversation, an intimate bubble amidst the anonymity of flight.

Obi-Wan, who had initially occupied himself with a book, soon found the quiet companionship of Cody more compelling than the printed words. He turned to his bodyguard, his eyes reflecting a genuine curiosity.

"Cody, we've spent so much time together, yet I realize I know very little about you," Obi-Wan said, setting his book aside. "Tell me about your family. You mentioned a brother, Rex, was it?"

Cody, who had been gazing pensively out the window, turned towards Obi-Wan. A slight smile touched his lips at the mention of his brother. "Yeah, Rex," he replied, his voice tinged with fondness. "He's the second oldest of us. I come from a pretty big family. Wolffe, Fox, Fives, Echo, Ponds... We're a lively bunch when we get together."

Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat, intrigued. "That sounds like a household full of stories. What was it like, growing up with so many siblings?"

"It was... chaotic, to say the least," Cody said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "But it taught me a lot about responsibility and looking out for each other. Rex and I, we were always particularly close. He's got this sense of humor that can lighten up even the toughest situations."

Obi-Wan's smile widened. "Sounds like he'd be your favorite, though I suspect you'd never admit it."

Cody raised an eyebrow, a playful defiance in his gaze. "A bodyguard never reveals his favorites," he joked, then sighed softly. "But yeah, Rex and I have been through a lot together. He's more than just a brother; he's a confidant."

As the conversation flowed, the barriers of their professional roles seemed to dissolve. Obi-Wan spoke of his own life, of the early days of his career, the challenges and triumphs that had shaped him. Cody listened, his usual vigilance giving way to a deeper understanding of the man he was sworn to protect.

****

As the conversation between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett continued to unfold in the comfortable confines of the airplane, Obi-Wan felt a reciprocal curiosity about sharing his own background. The aircraft, cruising steadily above the clouds, seemed to create a detached world, a space where stories could be shared with an openness rarely afforded in their usual interactions.

"You know, Cody," Obi-Wan began, his gaze turning contemplative as he looked out the window, "hearing about your family, it makes me reflect on my own."

Cody turned his attention fully towards Obi-Wan, his expression an invitation to continue. It was a subtle shift, but one that did not go unnoticed by Obi-Wan, who appreciated the genuine interest.

"My family," Obi-Wan mused, "is a bit of a mixed tapestry. My father, Jinn, was quite renowned in his time, a name in the entertainment industry. He was part of the reason I found myself drawn to this world." He paused, a soft smile touching his lips as memories surfaced. "He had this larger-than-life persona, both on and off the screen. I grew up amidst the glamour and the storytelling, and it captivated me."

Cody nodded, understanding the gravity of such an upbringing. "Must have been quite the experience, growing up in the spotlight."

"It was," Obi-Wan agreed. "But it also had its challenges. There's a certain expectation when you're the son of someone famous. I had to carve out my own path, find my own voice in a narrative already partly written for me."

"And your siblings?" Cody inquired, intrigued by the familial dynamics.

Obi-Wan's expression softened. "Ah, my siblings. Anakin and Ahsoka. They chose a different path. Anakin, my younger brother, he has always been incredibly talented, but the limelight never appealed to him. He's more content with a quieter life, away from the cameras and the fame. Ahsoka, she's much the same. They both sought normalcy, a life unencumbered by the expectations that come with being in a public family."

Cody could sense a hint of wistfulness in Obi-Wan's tone, a subtle longing for the simplicity his siblings had found. "Do you ever envy that? Their quiet life?"

Obi-Wan considered the question for a moment, his gaze distant. "Sometimes," he admitted. "There's a certain allure to anonymity, to living a life where your choices are your own, unobserved. But then I think about the stories I've been able to tell, the characters I've brought to life, and I realize this is my path. It's complicated, intertwined with my father's legacy and my own aspirations, but it's mine."

The conversation drifted then to other topics, but the shared stories of family lingered between them, a bridge that connected their worlds. Cody, who had always viewed Obi-Wan through the lens of his profession, began to see him as a man shaped by his experiences, his family, and his choices. And Obi-Wan, in revealing these personal facets of his life, found in Cody an understanding presence, a listener who saw beyond the facade of fame.

As the flight continued, weaving its way across the sky towards their next destination, the bond between them deepened, rooted in a newfound mutual understanding and respect. They were no longer just actor and bodyguard; they were two individuals, each with their own stories and struggles, finding common ground in the shared narrative of their lives.

As the aircraft continued its journey, stitching the sky with its invisible thread, the conversation between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett delved deeper, transitioning from the past to the future. The dim cabin lights, casting a soft glow over their seats, created an ambiance that felt removed from the rest of the world, a private cocoon where thoughts and dreams could be shared without reservation.

Obi-Wan, his gaze fixed on the blanket of stars visible through the window, broke the silence that had settled between them. "Cody, have you ever thought about the future? I mean, beyond the scope of our professions?"

Cody, who had been lost in his own contemplations, turned towards Obi-Wan. "Occasionally," he replied, his voice thoughtful. "I suppose, like anyone, I dream of finding someone to share life with. Someone to love, to cherish. But in our line of work, it's not always easy to make those connections."

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. "It's a challenge I know all too well. In my world, it's hard to find someone who sees you for who you are, not what you represent."

There was a pause as Obi-Wan seemed to gather his thoughts. "I once had a relationship with someone I deeply cared for," he continued, his voice carrying a tinge of melancholy. "Satine. She was wonderful, vibrant, but in the end, the relationship crumbled under the weight of my public persona. She was more enamored with the fame, with the idea of being with Obi-Wan Kenobi the actor, rather than Obi-Wan the person."

Cody listened, his expression one of empathy. "That must have been hard," he said softly.

"It was," Obi-Wan admitted. "It made me realize how much I yearn for genuine connection. To be accepted and loved for who I am, not the roles I play or the accolades I receive. It's a simple desire, but in this industry, it feels like a distant dream."

Cody considered Obi-Wan's words, feeling a resonance with his own longing for authenticity in relationships. "I think, at the core, we're all searching for that," he said. "Someone who understands us, who looks beyond the surface."

The conversation then drifted to their hopes for the future. Obi-Wan spoke of his desire to find balance, to continue telling stories that moved people while also nurturing a personal life that was grounded and real. Cody talked about his aspirations for a quieter life someday, a life where the responsibilities of protection and vigilance gave way to peace and companionship.

As the hours passed, their dialogue wove a tapestry of shared aspirations and mutual understanding. The barriers of actor and bodyguard, which had once defined their interactions, now seemed inconsequential. They were simply two individuals, with their own hopes and dreams, finding solace in each other's company.

The plane began its descent, the journey nearing its end, but the journey of their friendship was just beginning. They had started this flight as acquaintances bound by circumstance, but they landed as confidants, bonded by the revelations of their shared conversation. In the quiet of the airplane cabin, high above the world, they had discovered a kinship that promised to extend beyond the parameters of their professional lives.

****

As the whirlwind promotional tour for "The Lost Empire" continued, Cody Fett found himself in a maelstrom of introspection and burgeoning emotions. The memories of their conversation aboard the ten-hour flight lingered in his mind, casting a new light on his relationship with Obi-Wan Kenobi. They had delved into the depths of their lives, sharing stories of family, dreams, and aspirations. In those hours, Cody had come to know Obi-Wan not just as a client, but as a person — complex, genuine, and unexpectedly relatable.

Now, as he escorted Obi-Wan from one interview to another, navigating through throngs of fans and media, Cody felt an unfamiliar stirring within him. It was a feeling that edged dangerously close to the boundaries of romantic affection, a territory he had never intended to explore with Obi-Wan.

The more he observed Obi-Wan — the way he addressed interviewers with eloquence, the way his eyes sparkled with passion when he spoke of his craft, the genuine warmth he showed to his fans — the more Cody found himself drawn to the man behind the celebrity façade.

During a brief interlude in their hectic schedule, as they sat in a quiet corner of a bustling café waiting for the next interview, Cody's thoughts were a tumultuous sea, struggling to reconcile his professional responsibilities with the emotions that threatened to breach the surface.

Obi-Wan, sipping his coffee, seemed to sense Cody's internal struggle. "You've been quiet today, Cody," he observed, his voice tinged with concern. "Is everything alright?"

Cody met Obi-Wan's gaze, the depth of his own conflict reflected in his eyes. "It's nothing to worry about," he replied, his voice a practiced modulation of neutrality. "Just making sure everything is in order for today."

Obi-Wan studied him for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "You know, Cody, you're more than just my bodyguard," he said softly. "You're a friend. If there's something on your mind, you can talk to me."

Cody felt a surge of appreciation for Obi-Wan's words, yet it only deepened the complexity of his emotions. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. That means a lot," he said, offering a small, genuine smile. "I'm just... adjusting to the pace of this tour."

As they moved on to the next engagement, Cody wrestled with his feelings. He knew that allowing romantic feelings to develop for Obi-Wan was a line he couldn't afford to cross. His job was to protect, to remain vigilant, and any emotional entanglement could compromise not only his professionalism but also Obi-Wan's safety.

Yet, despite his efforts to maintain an emotional distance, Cody couldn't help but notice the small things — the way Obi-Wan's laughter seemed to light up the room, the compassionate way he interacted with everyone he met, the subtle glances he shared with Cody that spoke of a connection beyond their professional roles.

Each interview, each appearance, was a reminder of the growing complexity of his feelings. Cody found himself caught in a delicate balancing act, striving to fulfill his duties while navigating the uncharted waters of his emotions.

In the quiet moments, when the lights of the interviews dimmed and the clamor of fans faded into the background, Cody reflected on the situation. He knew he had to tread carefully, to protect not only Obi-Wan but also the integrity of his own heart. The realization that he was falling for Obi-Wan was both exhilarating and terrifying, a paradox that left him uncertain of the path ahead.

As the tour continued, Cody remained the ever-present guardian, his outward demeanor unchanged. But beneath the surface, a storm of emotions raged, a silent battle between duty and desire that would shape the course of his relationship with Obi-Wan in ways he had yet to fully comprehend.

***

In the midst of the bustling promotional tour, amidst the relentless flash of cameras and the constant barrage of questions, Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself in a state of introspective reflection. The conversations he had shared with Cody Fett during their long flight had unveiled a depth and complexity to the man he had known only as his bodyguard. Now, as he engaged in interviews, his mind often wandered back to those moments, to the revelations of dreams, hopes, and the essence of their true selves that had been laid bare in the quiet of the airplane cabin.

Obi-Wan, always the consummate professional in the public eye, answered questions with his characteristic charm and wit. Yet, his attention frequently drifted to where Cody stood — vigilant, composed, a constant presence in the periphery of the limelight. Watching Cody, he noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the occasional distant look in his eyes that hinted at a contemplation mirroring his own.

As he spoke of his latest role, of the intricacies of his character, Obi-Wan's thoughts meandered to the complexity of his own life, to the yearnings he had confessed during their airborne conversation. He had spoken of his desire for a connection that transcended the superficial, for a relationship grounded in genuine understanding and acceptance. And now, as he observed Cody, he began to wonder if what he sought might be closer than he had ever imagined.

Between interviews, in the brief moments they had to themselves, Obi-Wan found himself engaging Cody in more personal conversation, seeking to delve deeper into the bond that had begun to form. "Cody, that book you mentioned on the flight — have you started it yet?" he would ask, or, "How do you manage to stay so composed in all this chaos?" His questions were casual, yet laden with a desire to understand more, to peel back the layers of the man who had become not just a protector but a confidant.

Cody's responses were thoughtful, often tinged with a hint of the guardedness that was a requisite of his profession. But Obi-Wan could sense the undercurrents of something more, a connection that went beyond their professional relationship. The more they spoke, the more Obi-Wan found himself drawn to Cody's quiet strength, his unwavering integrity, and the glimpses of vulnerability that he occasionally allowed to surface.

One evening, after a particularly long day of press events, as they retreated to the privacy of their hotel, Obi-Wan found himself hesitating outside Cody's room. "Thank you, Cody," he said, his voice softer than usual. "For everything. Not just for keeping me safe, but for... for the conversations, for the understanding."

Cody met his gaze, and for a moment, there was a palpable tension, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that were beginning to stir between them. "It's more than just a job, Obi-Wan," Cody replied, his voice low. "You've made it more than that."

As Obi-Wan retreated to his own room, he felt a tumult of emotions swirling within him. The realization that his feelings for Cody were evolving into something deeper, something potentially romantic, was both exhilarating and daunting. He lay awake that night, contemplating the possibility of a connection that mirrored the authenticity and depth they had both yearned for.

The days that followed were a dance of subtle glances, of conversations laden with unspoken meaning, of a growing intimacy that defied the boundaries of actor and bodyguard. Obi-Wan found himself caught in a delicate balance, yearning to explore the burgeoning feelings he harbored for Cody, yet mindful of the complications such a relationship would entail.

As the tour progressed, Obi-Wan's perception of Cody shifted, transforming from the man who guarded him to someone who had unwittingly become the guardian of his heart. It was a revelation that promised both risk and reward, a journey into uncharted emotional territory that Obi-Wan knew he was willing to embark upon, should the opportunity arise.

****

As the world tour for "The Lost Empire" progressed, each new country providing a backdrop of diverse cultures and bustling activity, Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself increasingly drawn into the gravity of his own emotions towards Cody Fett. The awareness of something deeper, something potentially profound between them, had taken root in his mind, and he found himself contemplating the possibility of exploring these feelings further.

Obi-Wan, skilled in the art of subtlety and innuendo, began to weave a tapestry of flirtation and charm, each thread delicately directed towards Cody. It was a gradual shift, a dance of words and glances that tested the waters of their evolving relationship.

In Paris, under the romantic guise of the City of Lights, Obi-Wan's flirtation became more pronounced. As they strolled along the Seine after a day of interviews, Obi-Wan leaned in closer to Cody, his voice taking on a softer, more intimate timbre. "You know, Cody, I've always found Paris to be a city that encourages one to speak from the heart," he mused, his gaze lingering on Cody's face.

Cody, caught slightly off guard by the comment, offered a small smile. "It's a beautiful city," he replied, maintaining his composure but clearly aware of the underlying sentiment in Obi-Wan's words.

In Tokyo, amidst the neon-lit streets and the constant hum of the city, Obi-Wan's attempts at flirtation continued. During a quiet dinner, he raised his glass in a toast. "To new experiences and... unexpected friendships," he said, his eyes locked with Cody's, conveying a depth of meaning that went beyond the words.

Cody's response was a nod, his expression betraying a flicker of uncertainty, a sign that he was aware of the shifting dynamics of their relationship but perhaps unsure of how to navigate them.

As they traveled to Rome, the eternal city with its stories of passion and history, Obi-Wan found moments to subtly touch Cody's arm during conversations, to stand just a bit too close, to share looks that lingered longer than necessary. Each gesture was a delicate exploration, a question posed in the language of unspoken desire.

Cody, ever the professional, maintained his role as Obi-Wan's protector, but the increasing flirtation did not go unnoticed. He found himself in a tumult of conflicting emotions, caught between his duty and the growing attraction he felt towards Obi-Wan.

One evening, as they stood on a balcony overlooking the Roman skyline, Obi-Wan took a deep breath, the air filled with the scent of ancient stone and distant sea. "Cody, I want to be honest with you," he began, his voice low and earnest. "These past weeks, getting to know you, it's been... it's been more than I anticipated. I find myself looking forward to our conversations, to our moments together."

Cody turned to face him, his expression a mix of apprehension and something that resembled hope. "Obi-Wan, I... I'm not sure what to say," he admitted, his voice a whisper. "This isn't a line I've ever crossed, or thought to cross."

Obi-Wan reached out, placing a gentle hand on Cody's shoulder. "I understand the complexities, believe me, I do," he said softly. "I'm not asking for decisions or declarations. Just... just know that what I feel, it's real. It's not the actor, not the celebrity. It's me, Obi-Wan, and it's you, Cody, that I find myself drawn to."

The moment hung between them, a fragile bridge built on words of honesty and vulnerability. In the heart of Rome, with the city's ancient stories echoing around them, Obi-Wan and Cody stood at a crossroads, the potential of something more than just protector and protected, something deeply human and real, waiting just beyond the horizon of their professional boundaries.

***

In the midst of the bustling world tour, amidst the whirlwind of interviews and appearances, a quiet evening in Berlin offered a rare opportunity for reprieve. It was here, in the understated elegance of their hotel's private dining room, that Obi-Wan Kenobi had persuaded Cody Fett to join him for what could tentatively be called a date. The term had not been explicitly used, but the unspoken understanding hung in the air between them, charged with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

The dining room was a haven of tranquility, its decor a blend of modern chic and classic comfort. Soft lighting cast a warm glow over the room, creating an ambiance that was both intimate and inviting. A small table by the window, adorned with a simple yet elegant floral arrangement, awaited them, offering a view of the city's nighttime skyline.

Cody, usually so assured in his role as a protector, found himself navigating unfamiliar terrain. The decision to accept this invitation had not come easily. His profession had always demanded a strict adherence to boundaries, yet here he was, on the brink of exploring something profoundly personal with the very person he was assigned to guard. It was a step that could blur lines he had never dared to approach before, yet a part of him yearned to see where this path might lead.

As they sat down, there was a tentative quality to their interactions, a careful testing of waters that had until now remained uncharted. Obi-Wan, sensing Cody's unease, took the lead in conversation, his tone light and easy, yet tinged with an undercurrent of earnestness.

"The food here is supposed to be exceptional," he remarked, perusing the menu. "Though I must admit, my focus tonight is less on the cuisine and more on the company."

Cody offered a small smile, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I appreciate the invitation, Obi-Wan. It's... not often I find myself on this side of a dinner table."

Their conversation flowed naturally from there, meandering through topics both trivial and profound. They spoke of their favorite cities on the tour, of the books they were currently reading, of the small, everyday things that brought them joy. With each shared laugh, each exchanged glance, the initial awkwardness gradually dissipated, giving way to a deeper connection.

As the evening wore on, the barriers of actor and bodyguard continued to soften, revealing the individuals beneath. Obi-Wan, usually so composed in the public eye, allowed glimpses of vulnerability to show through, speaking of the loneliness that often accompanied his fame, of his longing for authentic connections.

Cody, in turn, opened up about the challenges of his profession, of the sacrifices it entailed. "I've always believed my duty was to protect others, often at the expense of my own happiness," he confessed, his voice low. "But perhaps it's time to consider that I might deserve a bit of happiness too."

Obi-Wan reached across the table, his hand hovering just shy of Cody's. "You deserve that and more, Cody," he said earnestly. "We both do. We spend so much of our lives giving to others, maybe it's time we allowed ourselves to receive something in return."

The night deepened around them, the city outside the window a tapestry of light and shadow. Inside the quiet dining room, Obi-Wan and Cody found themselves at a crossroads, teetering on the edge of a new beginning. It was a beginning fraught with uncertainty, yet brimming with the potential of something real and meaningful.

As they concluded their meal and lingered over their final glasses of wine, the conversation turned to the future, to the possibilities that lay ahead. They spoke not as actor and bodyguard, but as two individuals who had found an unexpected connection in the most unlikely of circumstances.

The evening ended with a promise, unspoken but palpably present — a promise to explore this burgeoning relationship, to see where this path might lead, regardless of the complexities it entailed. In the quiet intimacy of that dinner, Obi-Wan and Cody had taken the first tentative steps towards a future that could hold both the fulfillment of their professional roles and the joy of personal happiness.

****

As the promotional tour for "The Lost Empire" wove its way through the tapestry of cities and countries, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett found themselves navigating the delicate intricacies of a burgeoning relationship, cloaked in the secrecy necessitated by their circumstances. The relentless scrutiny of the press and media, ever-present in the whirlwind of the tour, meant that each stolen moment, each covert glance, was a treasure, a silent acknowledgment of the growing connection between them.

In the labyrinth of hotel corridors, in the quiet corners of bustling event venues, Obi-Wan and Cody discovered opportunities to be together, however fleeting. These moments were brief and often wordless, yet each one was imbued with a significance that transcended the need for speech. A gentle touch of hands as they passed each other in a hallway, a shared look that lingered just a second too long, a soft whisper exchanged in the brief respite of an elevator ride – each was a thread in the fabric of their secret relationship.

Their conversations, once limited to professional interactions and casual banter, evolved into something deeper, more personal. They spoke in hushed tones in the backseats of cars en route to events, discussing their days, sharing thoughts and laughter, their words a private dialogue unheard by the world outside.

In the seclusion of hotel rooms, away from the prying eyes of the public, Obi-Wan and Cody allowed themselves to explore the depth of their feelings. Here, they could be themselves, unfettered by the roles they played in the public eye. Obi-Wan, the celebrated actor, shed the weight of his fame, revealing the man beneath – thoughtful, introspective, yearning for genuine connection. Cody, the steadfast protector, unveiled a warmth and vulnerability rarely seen by others, a man with dreams and desires beyond the scope of his duty.

The nights they spent together were a juxtaposition of conversation and silence, of shared laughter and contemplative stillness. In these moments, the world outside ceased to exist, reduced to a distant murmur against the immediacy of their connection.

As the tour progressed, the challenge of maintaining their secret relationship amidst the constant scrutiny became a dance of discretion and subtlety. They became adept at masking their emotions in public, presenting the façade of a purely professional relationship while concealing the truth of their deeper bond.

Yet, despite the need for secrecy, there was a joy in their clandestine meetings, a thrill in the knowledge that they had found something rare and precious in each other. The stolen glances during press conferences, the brief brushes of hands as they navigated through crowds, the quiet conversations in the shadows of the spotlight – all were testaments to the resilience of their growing love.

In the privacy of their shared experiences, Obi-Wan and Cody cultivated a relationship that was as profound as it was hidden. It was a bond forged in the unlikeliest of circumstances, a testament to the enduring power of connection in a world that often prioritized appearance over authenticity.

As the tour neared its end, the reality of returning to their regular lives loomed on the horizon. Yet, the foundation they had built in the secrecy of stolen moments had created a bond that would not be easily severed. They had embarked on a journey that had started with cautious curiosity and had blossomed into a love that defied the constraints of their public roles. In each other, they had found not

only a partner but a refuge, a haven where they could be their true selves, unmasked and unguarded.

The final leg of the tour brought them to London, a city steeped in history and elegance. It was here, amidst the blend of ancient architecture and modern vitality, that they found a moment of peace. In a secluded corner of a centuries-old park, away from the hustle of the city, they walked side by side, basking in the anonymity provided by the sprawling greenery.

"This feels like a different world," Obi-Wan remarked, his voice a low murmur as they strolled beneath the canopy of old trees. "Away from the cameras, the lights, the expectations... just us."

Cody, his hand brushing against Obi-Wan's, felt a sense of contentment that he had rarely experienced. "It's moments like these that make everything worth it," he said, his gaze meeting Obi-Wan's. "Being with you, away from it all, it's... it's something I never knew I needed."

Obi-Wan's response was a soft smile, one that spoke volumes. "Nor did I, Cody. Nor did I," he said. "I used to think my life was complete with my career, my roles. But this," he gestured between them, "what we have, it's shown me there's more to life than what's on the surface."

Their conversation meandered as they walked, touching on hopes for the future, on the possibilities that lay ahead once the tour concluded. There was an underlying current of uncertainty, a recognition of the challenges they would face in integrating their relationship into their everyday lives. Yet, there was also a sense of determination, a mutual commitment to explore the potential of their bond beyond the secrecy it currently required.

As they eventually made their way back to the hustle and bustle of the city, stepping once again into their public roles, there was a silent promise shared between them. It was a promise to navigate the complexities of their situation, to find a way to be together in a world that demanded so much of them.

***

In the heart of London, under the enigmatic cloak of a starlit sky, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett found themselves walking the cobbled streets, the city's historic charm providing a perfect backdrop for their clandestine rendezvous. The night air was crisp, carrying the echoes of a city that had witnessed countless stories of love and longing.

As they meandered through the winding alleys, away from the prying eyes of the world they were so accustomed to, a sense of liberation enveloped them. Here, in the shadows of the age-old buildings, they allowed themselves the simple yet profound joys of a blossoming romance.

Their hands found each other's, fingers intertwining with a natural ease. The contact was electrifying, a current that ran through them, speaking of a connection that had grown deeper with each stolen moment. Obi-Wan's thumb gently caressed the back of Cody's hand, a small gesture laden with affection and promise.

"Can you believe this?" Obi-Wan whispered, his voice a blend of wonder and contentment. "In the midst of our chaotic lives, we've found this... oasis of peace with each other."

Cody, his gaze fixed on their joined hands, felt a warmth spreading through him, a sensation that was both exhilarating and comforting. "I never thought I'd find something like this," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of amazement. "Especially not with someone who was once just a charge under my protection."

They found a secluded bench nestled in a quiet park, the city's hustle fading into a distant hum. Sitting close, their shoulders touching, they shared their thoughts, their hopes, their dreams. Each word added another layer to their understanding of each other, each sentence a building block in the foundation of their relationship.

As they talked, Obi-Wan leaned in, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the nearby streetlamp. "I've spent so much of my life playing roles, wearing masks," he said softly. "But with you, Cody, I can just be Obi-Wan. Just me, no pretenses."

Cody turned to face him, his expression earnest. "And I've always been the one in the background, watching over others. But with you, I'm seen. I'm not just the bodyguard; I'm Cody, and that's enough."

The air around them seemed to still, the moment hanging suspended in time. Slowly, almost tentatively, Obi-Wan closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Cody's in a kiss that was a gentle exploration, a question asked and answered in the same breath. It was a kiss that spoke of missed opportunities and past heartbreaks, of the hope and the promise of a shared future.

As they parted, there was a shared smile, a mutual recognition of the significance of what had just transpired. It was the first flush of love, the exhilarating and terrifying leap into the unknown, tempered by the understanding that they had found in each other something rare and precious.

The night deepened around them, but in their little corner of London, time seemed irrelevant. They were two souls who had traversed their own paths of challenges and triumphs, only to find in each other a kindred spirit, a chance at happiness that neither had dared to imagine.

Their conversation continued, interspersed with laughter and comfortable silences, each moment a cherished memory in the making. They talked of the future, not with trepidation, but with a quiet confidence, a belief that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

As they eventually rose from the bench, their hands still clasped, they stepped back into the world with a new sense of purpose. They were no longer just Obi-Wan Kenobi, the actor, and Cody Fett, the bodyguard; they were two individuals united by a love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places, a love that promised to weather the storms of their public lives and flourish in the secrecy of their private moments.

***

Back in Los Angeles, the sprawling cityscape welcomed Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett with its familiar cacophony and vibrant colors. The end of the world tour marked a return to their everyday lives, yet it also heralded the beginning of a new chapter in their relationship, one that they were both eager to explore.

In the privacy of Obi-Wan's spacious home, nestled in the hills with a breathtaking view of the city, they found their sanctuary. Here, away from the constant scrutiny of the public eye, their relationship flourished in the quiet moments of domesticity. The world outside continued its relentless pace, but within these walls, time seemed to slow, allowing them to savor the simplicity of being together.

One evening, as they sat on the terrace, watching the sun dip below the horizon in a spectacular display of oranges and purples, Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "I can't remember the last time I felt this at peace," he confessed, his gaze lingering on the skyline.

Cody, sitting beside him with a glass of wine in hand, smiled softly. "It's strange, isn't it? How amidst all the chaos, we've managed to find this... this tranquility with each other."

Obi-Wan turned to look at Cody, his eyes reflecting the hues of the setting sun. "It's more than I ever hoped for," he admitted. "To have someone to come home to, someone who understands the demands of my life, yet sees beyond the actor, the celebrity... it means everything to me."

Cody reached out, his hand finding Obi-Wan's, their fingers intertwining naturally. "And for me," he said, his voice imbued with sincerity, "to be seen for who I am, not just what I do... you've given me that, Obi-Wan. You've given me a sense of belonging I didn't know I was missing."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a mixture of shared laughter, thoughtful discussions, and comfortable silences. They talked about their plans for the future, about the small, everyday joys they wanted to experience together. Whether it was planning a weekend getaway, deciding on a new piece of art for the living room, or simply choosing a movie to watch, every decision felt significant, every moment a step further into the life they were building together.

As night fell and the city lights began to twinkle like stars brought down to earth, they moved inside, the warmth of the house enveloping them. In the living room, with soft music playing in the background, they danced. It was a slow, gentle dance, bodies swaying in harmony, hands clasped, eyes locked. It was a dance of love, of promise, of a bond that had grown stronger with each passing day.

Later, as they lay together in the quiet of the bedroom, Obi-Wan whispered words of love and gratitude, his voice a soothing melody in the stillness. Cody, holding him close, felt a sense of completeness, a feeling that he had found his home not in a place, but in a person.

In these moments, they were just Obi-Wan and Cody, two individuals who had found in each other a love that transcended the roles they played in the outside world. It was a love that was still new, still fragile in its infancy, yet it held the promise of enduring through whatever challenges lay ahead.

Unbeknownst to them, the tranquility of these moments was a precious interlude, a calm before the storm that would soon test the strength of their relationship. But for now, they reveled in the happiness they had found, cherishing each second as a gift, a reminder of the beauty that life could offer when two hearts found their match in each other.

****

The day had begun like any other in Los Angeles, with the sun casting its golden hue over the city, promising the usual blend of hustle and tranquility. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett, reveling in the normalcy of their shared life, decided to step out into the city, a rare opportunity to enjoy a day just like any other couple.

They walked side by side along the bustling streets, their conversation light and filled with laughter. To any onlooker, they appeared to be just two people enjoying each other's company, basking in the anonymity that the crowded city afforded them. But beneath the surface, Cody's vigilance remained ever-present, an ingrained part of him that never fully relaxed, even in his moments of happiness.

As they navigated through a particularly crowded part of the city, a sudden commotion broke out. A figure, a fan driven by obsession and blinded by a dangerous fervor, emerged from the throng. Before Cody could react, the fan lunged towards Obi-Wan, a flash of metal glinting in the sunlight.

The world seemed to slow down as Cody sprang into action, but it was too late. The fan's weapon found its mark, and Obi-Wan crumpled to the ground, a cry of pain escaping his lips. Cody, his heart pounding in his chest, tackled the assailant to the ground, neutralizing the threat with swift precision. But his focus was entirely on Obi-Wan, lying injured on the pavement.

"Obi-Wan!" Cody exclaimed, rushing to his side, his professional demeanor shattered by a wave of fear and concern. He cradled Obi-Wan's head in his lap, his hands trembling as he assessed the injury. "Stay with me, please," he pleaded, his voice laced with panic.

Obi-Wan, his face contorted in pain, managed a weak smile. "Cody," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm here... I'm here."

Cody's training kicked in, and he applied pressure to the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood while his other hand fumbled for his phone to call an ambulance. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions — fear for Obi-Wan's life, guilt for not preventing the attack, and a fierce determination to keep him safe.

As they waited for the ambulance, Cody held Obi-Wan close, whispering words of reassurance, of love, of promises for the future. "You're going to be okay," he said, over and over, as if by sheer will, he could make it true.

Obi-Wan, despite the pain, reached up to touch Cody's face, a gesture of comfort, of connection. "Cody, you've always protected me," he murmured, his eyes locked with Cody's. "This... this isn't your fault."

But Cody's guilt was palpable, a heavy weight on his chest. He had sworn to protect Obi-Wan, and in his mind, he had failed not just his charge but the man he loved. The sound of approaching sirens offered a small relief, but the fear of what lay ahead, of the uncertainty of Obi-Wan's condition, clung to him like a shadow.

As the paramedics arrived and began to attend to Obi-Wan, Cody reluctantly released him, his hands stained with blood, a stark reminder of the incident. He stood back, watching as they loaded Obi-Wan into the ambulance, his heart aching with a mixture of fear and love.

****

In the sterile quietude of the hospital room, Obi-Wan Kenobi slowly drifted back to consciousness, the haze of anesthesia giving way to the stark reality of his surroundings. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, casting long shadows across the white walls. A sense of solitude enveloped him, an emptiness that was palpable in its intensity.

His eyes, heavy and clouded with pain, scanned the room, searching for a familiar presence. The expectation of finding Cody there, a steadfast guardian even in the bleakest of moments, was ingrained in him. But the chair beside his bed, usually occupied by Cody, was empty, an unspoken testament to his absence.

A flutter of confusion and worry passed through Obi-Wan's mind. His gaze fell upon the nightstand, where a single envelope lay, its presence both intriguing and ominous. With a trembling hand, he reached for it, the motion sending a ripple of pain through his body.

The envelope bore his name in Cody's handwriting, a script he had come to know well. Obi-Wan's heart throbbed with a mixture of anticipation and dread as he carefully opened it, unfolding the letter inside. The words, penned with Cody's characteristic precision, blurred before his eyes, a combination of his weakened state and the emotion that began to swell within him.

"Obi-Wan," the letter began, the words resonating with a weight that filled the room.

"I sit here writing this, struggling to find the words that can express the turmoil inside me. I have always prided myself on my duty, on my ability to protect those in my charge. But today, I failed. Not just as your bodyguard, but as the man who has come to love you more than I ever thought possible.

You once asked me if I ever thought about my own happiness. Until I met you, I didn't know what that could mean. With you, I discovered a part of myself I never knew existed. Your laughter, your kindness, your sheer brilliance in everything you do, it opened a world I was honored to be a part of.

But in that same world, I was tasked with your safety, and I failed. Seeing you hurt, knowing it was on my watch, it's a burden I cannot bear. The guilt is overwhelming, and it eclipses the love I feel, turning it into something painful, something unbearable.

I am leaving for Colorado, not because my feelings for you have changed, but because I can't face you after what happened. I can't look into your eyes and not see the hurt I failed to prevent. You deserve someone who can protect you, who can be the partner you need. I wanted to be that person, more than anything, but I fell short.

Please know that leaving you is the hardest decision I've ever had to make. You have my heart, Obi-Wan, and you always will. I only wish I could have been the man you deserved.

With all the love I have,

Cody"

Tears welled up in Obi-Wan's eyes as he read and reread the letter, each word a piercing echo of the love and pain that Cody felt. The room felt colder now, emptier than before. He clutched the letter to his chest, a physical connection to the man who had become so much more than a bodyguard to him.

In the solitude of the hospital room, with the soft beeping of the monitors as the only sound, Obi-Wan Kenobi grappled with a myriad of emotions. There was the pain from his injury, a dull, persistent reminder of the attack. There was the heartache from Cody's departure, a void that seemed to consume the space around him. But most of all, there was the overwhelming sense of loss, of a future they had dreamed of together, now shattered by the harsh realities of their lives.

The letter, with its heartfelt confession and palpable sorrow, was a testament to the depth of Cody's love, a love so profound that it chose to step away in the face of guilt and perceived failure. For Obi-Wan, it was both a balm and a wound, a reminder of what they

had shared and what they had lost. He lay there, the shadows of the room growing longer as night approached, enveloped in a grief that was as much for Cody's pain as it was for his own.

In the silence, Obi-Wan's mind replayed their moments together, the laughter, the conversations, the stolen kisses. Each memory was a sharp contrast to the present, a poignant reminder of the happiness they had found in each other's arms. He thought of Cody's smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the sound of his laughter, and the feel of his touch. Each thought was a dagger to his heart, a reminder of what could have been.

The letter, now creased from his grip, lay beside him, a physical manifestation of Cody's inner turmoil and love. Obi-Wan understood the weight of duty that Cody carried, the responsibility he felt as his protector. But he also knew the depth of their connection, the bond that had grown between them, strong and true.

As the night deepened, Obi-Wan's resolve began to form. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, filled with challenges and uncertainties. But he also knew that what he and Cody shared was rare and worth fighting for. The pain of the present, though overwhelming, could not extinguish the flame of hope for a future where they could be together, free from the shadows of guilt and duty.

In the quiet of the hospital room, Obi-Wan made a silent vow. He would heal, not just in body, but in spirit. He would reach out to Cody, bridge the distance that guilt and fear had created. For in his heart, he knew that their story was not one to end in sorrow and separation, but one that deserved a chance to continue, to flourish in the light of understanding and unconditional love.

With that thought, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, clutching the letter close, a beacon of hope in the darkness, a promise of a love that could overcome even the deepest of wounds.

***

In the weeks following the harrowing incident, Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself navigating a challenging path to recovery. The physical healing, though painful, was straightforward, a journey marked by the measured progress of regaining strength and mobility. However, the emotional recovery was a labyrinthine journey, more complex and daunting.

Each day, Obi-Wan was surrounded by the unwavering support of friends and family. His home became a revolving door of well-wishers, colleagues from the film industry, and close relatives. His younger brother, Anakin, often sat by his side, offering silent company or engaging in light-hearted banter to lift his spirits. Ahsoka, ever empathetic, brought books and music, understanding Obi-Wan's need for distractions that also soothed the soul.

Yet, in the midst of this outpouring of care and affection, there was an absence that loomed large in Obi-Wan's heart. Cody's presence, or the lack thereof, was a constant ache, a void that no amount of well-meaning attention could fill. Obi-Wan found himself glancing at the empty chair beside his bed, half-expecting to see Cody there, with his reassuring gaze and steady demeanor.

As the days turned into weeks, Obi-Wan's physical wounds began to heal, the scars a testament to his resilience. But his thoughts were incessantly drawn to Cody, to the last words they had shared, to the letter that he kept in the drawer of his nightstand, read and reread so many times that he knew it by heart.

Determined to bridge the gap that circumstance and guilt had created, Obi-Wan made a decision. As soon as he was cleared by his doctors, he would go to Colorado, to Cody's family ranch. The thought of seeing Cody again, of confronting the pain and the love that lingered between them, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

The day of the journey arrived, a crisp morning with the sky painted in hues of soft blues and gentle golds. Obi-Wan, carrying only a small bag and a heart full of hope, made his way to the airport. The drive was a blur, his mind consumed with thoughts of Cody, of what he would say, of how he would bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

Arriving in Colorado, Obi-Wan was greeted by the vast expanse of open skies and rolling hills. The Fett family ranch was nestled in the heart of this serene landscape, a place that seemed untouched by the clamor of the outside world.

As he drove up the gravel path leading to the ranch, his heart pounded with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. The ranch house came into view, a picturesque structure that spoke of warmth and home.

Stepping out of the car, Obi-Wan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the moment he had both longed for and feared. He walked up to the front door, each step a mixture of determination and trepidation.

The door opened before he could knock, and there stood Cody, his expression one of shock and confusion that quickly morphed into something more complex — a mix of pain, relief, and a love that had never waned.

"Cody," Obi-Wan began, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I had to come. We need to talk, to face this together."

Cody stepped aside, allowing Obi-Wan to enter. The house was warm, the air filled with the subtle scent of pine and earth. They moved to the living room, a space that was cozy and lived-in, with comfortable furniture and family pictures adorning the walls.

As Obi-Wan Kenobi entered the living room of the Fett family ranch, the air was thick with unspoken words and emotions. Cody Fett, standing across from him, was the embodiment of internal conflict. His posture was tense, a visual representation of the turmoil that had been brewing inside him since the day of the incident.

Cody's eyes, usually so steady and assured, now flickered with a storm of emotions as he looked at Obi-Wan. The sight of Obi-Wan, still bearing the physical marks of his ordeal, was a stark reminder of the event that had haunted Cody's every waking moment.

"Obi-Wan, what are you doing here?" Cody's voice was strained, a mix of surprise and an underlying current of distress. "You shouldn't have come."

Obi-Wan, undeterred by Cody's evident turmoil, took a step closer. "I had to come, Cody. We need to face this, not run from it. We need to talk."

Cody shook his head, a gesture of denial, as he backed away slightly. "Talk? Obi-Wan, look at you. You're hurt because of me. Because I couldn't do the one thing I was supposed to do — protect you."

Obi-Wan's expression softened. "Cody, you can't blame yourself for what happened. It was an unpredictable situation. No one could have seen it coming."

But Cody's guilt was a deep-seated shadow that clouded his thoughts. "I should have seen it. I should have been faster, better. I've been going over it every day and night. The truth is, Obi-Wan, I'm not the right person for you. How can I be in a relationship with you when I can't even protect you?"

Obi-Wan reached out, trying to bridge the gap not just in space but in understanding. "Cody, being with someone isn't about being perfect. It's about being there for each other, in good times and bad. What I feel for you, it's not dependent on your ability to protect me. It's about the person you are, the heart and soul of you."

Cody's face was a canvas of pain and love, a heartbreaking picture of a man torn between his feelings and his perceived failure. "I love you, Obi-Wan. That's what makes this so hard. I love you, but every time I look at you, I'm reminded of that day, and I feel like I'm suffocating under the weight of what I could have lost."

Obi-Wan stepped closer, his voice a gentle plea. "Then let's work through that together. Don't shut me out. What we have is rare, Cody. It's worth fighting for."

The room was silent for a long moment, the tension palpable. Cody looked at Obi-Wan, his eyes searching, seeking answers in the depths of Obi-Wan's gaze. The love he felt for Obi-Wan was a force that had sustained him through the darkest of times, but it was also the source of his greatest pain.

Finally, Cody spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know if I can be what you need. The thought of failing you again..."

Obi-Wan stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "You haven't failed me, Cody. And I don't need protection; I need you. All of you, with all your doubts and fears. We'll face them together."

In that room, with the evening light fading outside, Obi-Wan and Cody stood at a crossroads of their relationship. It was a moment fraught with pain and possibility, a test of whether the love they shared could overcome the barriers of guilt and fear.

For Cody, it was a decision that meant confronting his deepest insecurities, of accepting that love was not a battlefield where one had to be invincible. And for Obi-Wan, it was

about showing Cody that his love was unconditional, that it wasn't predicated on a notion of perfection or an absence of vulnerability.

They stood there, two souls intertwined by an emotion so profound and complex, it defied the simple narratives of protector and protected. In Obi-Wan's steady gaze, Cody saw not just forgiveness, but an unwavering commitment to their future, to a life where they could share not only the joys but also the burdens.

"Cody, we're stronger together than we are apart," Obi-Wan said, his hand reaching out to gently cup Cody's cheek. "Let me be there for you, just as you've been there for me. Let's build something together, not as bodyguard and charge, but as partners, as equals."

Cody's eyes closed at the touch, a shudder running through him as he battled with his inner demons. The road ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but in Obi-Wan's touch, in his words, he found a glimmer of hope, a possibility of healing and moving forward.

Slowly, tentatively, Cody leaned into the touch, a silent acceptance of Obi-Wan's offer. "I want that," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to try, for us."

In the waning light of the day, in the quiet of the room, Obi-Wan and Cody embraced, a physical manifestation of their rekindled connection. It was a moment of surrender, of acknowledging their fears and vulnerabilities, but also of recognizing the strength and resilience of their love.

As they stood there, holding each other, the challenges that lay ahead seemed less daunting, overshadowed by the certainty of their feelings for each other. It was a reaffirmation of their commitment, a promise to face the future together, with all its complexities and uncertainties.

In each other's arms, they found not just solace, but a renewed sense of purpose, a determination to forge a path where love and understanding reigned supreme, where the scars of the past were not reminders of pain, but symbols of their capacity to overcome and grow stronger in each other's embrace.

**************

"Thanks for reading! If this tale of unexpected love in the limelight touched you, reblog to share with others. Your likes, reblogs, and comments are not just appreciated, they're cherished. Here's to finding love where we least expect it 🌟💖."

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growup-thatbeautiful · 2 years

Text

In a collaboration with @mrs-perfectly-fine , this is my new fic in the language of the garden, this is happiness, based on this drawing! I’m so excited to share this fic that I’ve spent so much time researching, planning, and bringing to life!

Summary: Obi-wan lives on a quiet street with Anakin and Ahsoka, across from an empty shop. That is, until the Fett family moves in with their flower-shop and an undetermined amount of family members. Cody Fett is a new, welcoming presence that Obi-wan can’t seem to stay away from.

Word Count: 8.3k

A/n: let me know what you think!! comments are very appreciated :))

in the language of the garden, this is happiness

The street Obi-wan lives on is relatively peaceful most days of the week. When there’s no rerouted traffic or no new special milkshake at the ice–cream shop down the street, it’s a great place for him to be with Anakin and Ahsoka. Not that that was ever in his long-term plans when he was 21 and applied for a position at the local bookstore.

But, as fate would have it, he’s found quite a home here. He gets a good deal on expensive tea at the coffee shop around the corner if he gives them a first look at the latest cookbooks. The same shop lets Ahsoka and Anakin sit in their loft way past the appropriate time for buying one single black coffee that Anakin pretends to drink and gives to Ahsoka. In exchange, Obi-wan tries to help translate whenever he can. There’s a convenience store that looks the other way at Anakin’s skateboarding in front of their store and promises to tell Obi-wan if his kids ever do anything that he needs to know about. A candle store that lets Ahsoka smell all of the ones she wants in the back and a sweet old woman that writes Anakin letters.

There’s also a flower shop moving in right across the street from Obi-wan’s store. He can smell the flowers when he walks down the street for tea, and he gets used to it quickly. It pleasantly blends with the rest of the ambiance of the community that Obi-wan has gotten to know.

This is also due, in part, to the presence of the decidedly large family moving into the apartment above the shop. He’s not sure, but so far he’s counted at least twelve of them, and he has genuinely no idea how each of them is related. Someone else said that their name is the Fetts, and their moving force is made up of a seemingly endless supply of fellow Fett brothers.

So, because he’s a great neighbor, a week after they move in he makes Ahsoka and Anakin come with him to deliver an assortment of baked goods and pleasantries. It definitely has nothing to do with the slight infatuation he has with finding new recipes to try. Nope. He’s just a really good person. He does not use baking as a coping mechanism every time he feels any emotions at all. That’s not him. Not Obi-wan.

They make their way across the street, the pleasant sun shining brightly on the storefronts. Obi-wan happily takes in the smell of roses coming from the store, memory flooding with association from the indistinguishable scent. The stairs to the apartment floor of the building are at the front, narrow metal creaking under constant movement. Ahsoka skips ahead of them, calling Obi-wan old and Anakin lame for not racing her. She stops in front of the dark green door, the name plaque outside labeled The Fetts in sprawling handwriting on a sheet of notebook paper.

“Anakin, can you knock on the door, please? My hands are a tad full at the moment.”

“No,” Anakin says as he reaches around Obi-wan, rapping lightly three times. Obi-wan rolls his eyes and shifts the basket in his hand.

His knocks are answered a moment later by a boy around Anakin’s age with bleach blonde hair cropped close to his skull and wide, brown eyes. “Yeah?”

“Hello! I’m Obi-wan Kenobi, and this is Anakin and Ahsoka. We live across the street in the apartment above my bookstore, and I wanted to offer these,” he holds out the basket, “to help you settle in. I know new places can be a lot.”

The boy looks utterly unconvinced by Obi-wan’s speech, looking around him to see a beaming Ahsoka and a less than enthused Anakin. Obi-wan understands. Their little family can be a lot to take in at first glance. He just hopes Anakin and Ahsoka aren’t disappointed. He tried to hype up having new kids on their street as much as he can with his limited capability to connect to the younger generation. Based on the looks Anakin had been giving him when he said lit, he wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Well, we can drop them off here and be on our way. No need to distract you from unpacking. Feel free to stop by if you need anything. Our doors are always open.” He puts the basket down on the floor in front of him and turns to corral his group down the stairs and back to their side of the street when a voice stops him.

“Wait!” Obi-wan looks up and finds a different figure approaching the door. “Sorry, I was on the phone. If I’d known that it was you I would have answered it myself.” The man stops and offers a handshake. “I’m Cody. Cody Fett.”

“Obi-wan,” he replies, accepting the handshake. Cody’s hands are broad and warm, with callouses on the fingers that Obi-wan wants to learn about. He wouldn't mind learning about the rest of Cody either. His eyes are warm and inviting, crinkling at the edges with laugh lines. His stature is a little shorter than Obi-wan's, but he’s strong. That Obi-wan knows from his observations at his kitchen sink when he would see one of them, who he’s now able to recognize as Cody, going up and down the stairs, not stopping until all of the boxes had been moved to the apartment, long after the others.

“Why don’t you come in?” Obi-wan accepts the offer and steps through the doorway, his shoulder brushing against Cody’s. “I’m sorry about your greeting. The one who answered the door was Rex. He’s seventeen,” offers Cody as an explanation.

“Anakin is the same age. He’s the rather sour-looking one behind me.” Anakin looks up from his phone and waves, completely oblivious to the insult.

“Maybe they’ll get along.” Obi-wan doubts it. Anakin only seems to want to be around Ahsoka and, in rare cases, Obi-wan. It would be a nice change of pace for him to have a friend his age besides Padamė.

“Maybe. It would be nice to have some fellow youth around.” Obi-wan cringes at his word choice. Could he have sounded any older?

Cody is, apparently, willing to forgive Obi-wan’s wording. “We weren’t expecting any visitors for a while,” Cody apologizes, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

“I’m sure,” agrees Obi-wan, noting the stacks of boxes. “I don’t have much space to judge here. I used a cardboard box as a living room table for years.”

“Until I broke it,” interjects Anakin proudly. Obi-wan offers him a rueful smile.

“Yes, you did do a proper job making sure we had to take a trip to Ikea. Though that might have been the plan all along.” Ahsoka and Anakin attempt to sneakily high-five each other unsuccessfully.

“I saw that.” They grin and do it again. Obi-wan nods in acceptance of his lack of control over them and they continue down the hallway.

Obi-wan learns quickly that Cody is a man of little words, completely unlike a lot of his family. Rex seems quite like him but is a bit more inclined to try and talk to Anakin and Ahsoka, the latter who looks overjoyed at the attention of someone Anakin’s age. Cody mainly stays beside Obi-wan, giving short descriptions of the rooms and introducing the other members of the family.

So far, he’s met at least 9 other Fett brothers, not including Rex and Cody. There are the twins, Waxer and Boil, who seem to be around twenty and live closer to the city, where Waxer has a daughter named Numa whom Obi-wan has already promised free range of the kid's section to. Crys is nineteen and going to a local college for a medical degree, and living with Cody as well to be able to help out. Echo and Fives, who are going to be living with Cody too, are twelve and thirteen respectively. He doesn’t get the ages of Wooley or Longshot, but Cody tells him that they’re also going to be around most of the time. Right as he’s trying to politely leave, he meets the last Fett in the house he didn’t meet before, a ten-year-old kid named Boba.

If he’s right, there are going to be eight people in the apartment. Luckily, it proves to be a lot bigger than Obi-wan’s. He’s pretty sure it’s actually a few apartments on the floor renovated together into a larger space that can semi-comfortably fit this branch of the Fett family.

After around an hour of meeting people and promising more baked goods in the future, Obi-wan feels like it’s probably time for them to leave, not that he wants to. The Fetts have such a way of accepting everyone in their presence immediately. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this at home around anyone that isn’t Anakin or Ahsoka, and he has to admit that it’s quite comforting.

Cody and Obi-wan are slowly making their way back to the entrance of the apartment, Cody somehow being able to pick up on the fact that Obi-wan feels a bit like he’s imposing at this point.

“It was nice to have you over. The cookies were a hit, you’ll have to send me the recipe.”

“I would love to, although I’m afraid I didn’t make enough food for everyone,” admits Obi-wan, gesturing generally to the rest of the apartment. Cody laughs softly, and Obi-wan wants to make him laugh again immediately to see that smile paired with those eyes.

“It’s okay, we’re good at sharing,” says Cody leading Obi-wan to the door. It’s not necessary at all, but he appreciates the sentiment.

“I’m sure.” They arrive back at the front with the peeling paint of the green door. “I guess this is goodbye for now, then.”

“I guess it is. It was really nice to meet you,” says Cody, sticking a hand out to shake.

“You as well,” returns Obi-wan warmly, accepting the handshake. “Hopefully we can make this a common occurrence. Having friendly neighbors can make life much easier.”

“I would like that.” They stand across from each other, Obi-wan’s hands clasped tightly behind his back. He’s not very good at goodbyes, especially when he doesn’t want to say goodbye.

“You have a lovely home and an even lovelier family,” offers Obi-wan. “Speaking of which, I seem to have lost both of my children,” Obi-wan says, looking down the hall.

“I think I saw them with Rex earlier.” Sure enough, Rex and Anakin cross the back end of the hall, pushing at each other, with Ahsoka trailing behind them and narrating in her best Australian accent.

“I’m going to have to apologize for the scenarios Anakin will most assuredly get Rex into in the future. I’m afraid it’s quite unavoidable when you put Anakin and Ahsoka together.”

“I would expect nothing less from Rex,” assures Cody fondly. “He pretty much gets roped into everything by his siblings already.” Anakin and Ahsoka see them standing at the door and head over, their noise level filling the hallway.

“Are we leaving?” asks Ahsoka. Anakin stands next to her, his elbow resting on her head.

“Yes, dear. Say your goodbyes to Rex and we’ll get out of their hair.” Obi-wan is met with sighs and sad glances towards Rex.

After a thoroughly awkward goodbye with strange handshakes and exclamations of future time together, Obi-wan is finally able to corral his company out the door, where the light is quickly fading. An orange glow is painted across the sky.

“I was thinking of picking up pizza or making that pasta with the red sauce.” Obi-wan unlocks the door to the shop and they head to the back, where the stairs to the apartment are.

“You make at least four kinds of pasta with red sauce. Specifics, please.” Ahsoka pokes Obi-wan in the arm and pushes past him.

“The one with noodles.”

“Very funny. You should be a comedian. It might be a little late in life for a career change, though.”

“Are you going to keep making fun of me or do you want to eat dinner?”

“That’s a hard choice,” considers Anakin, a hand stroking his chin animatedly. “I think I’ll take the food. You remembered to-”

“Take out the carrots for Ahsoka’s plate? Yes, I did.” Anakin nods in approval and sits on the counter, his usual spot when he’s in the mood to be talkative. They discuss random topics for a while, from the latest drama at Anakin’s school to the more interesting customers that Obi-wan’s had this week.

“Can I take the car next weekend?”

“Anakin, it’s your car. You don’t need to ask me.”

“I’m being responsible,” defends Anakin. “You’re impossible.”

“Fine, I’ll bite. Where do you want to go?”

“I wanted to take Padamè to the beach during the weekend. Usually, she would drive, but I was thinking about inviting Ahsoka and Rex.”

“That’s… actually a good idea,” remarks Obi-wan. He gets out various pots and pans and starts sautéing the vegetables, the peas off the side.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” scoffs Anakin. “I have good ideas all the time.”

“You definitely have a lot of ideas, that’s for certain. Can you get the tomato purée from the pantry? It should be on the top shelf.” Anakin hops off the counter energetically and slides to the pantry, his socks sliding against the tiles. It’s a habit Obi-wan can’t seem to break and has even picked up himself. Anakin places the can on the counter with a loud thunk and retakes his spot.

“So is that a yes?”

“If you take Ahsoka and Rex with you. I’m not letting my seventeen-year-old go to the beach by himself with his girlfriend, no matter how much I trust her.”

“You don’t trust me?” Anakin looks mock offended, his hand over his heart.

“Depends on the day.”

“Fair. So next weekend you don’t trust me?”

“Next weekend I trust you to take care of your sister.” Anakin shrugs in acceptance and takes a spoon out of the drawer next to him, dipping it in the sauce.

“It could use some more pepper.” Obi-wan nods and adds more. The rest of the evening passes with relative ease, Anakin tasting the various parts of the meal and telling Obi-wan what to add. Eventually, Ahsoka comes in too, and directs further, bringing meaning to the phrase too many cooks in the kitchen.

Once everything is ready, Ahsoka and Anakin set the table while Obi-wan makes bowls for each of them. It’s a practiced dance they’ve established on nights when they eat together, which is admittedly few and far between. Their schedule doesn’t always allow much room for family dinners. This is probably a good thing because they usually end up in laughing fits and with a stack of dishes in the sink for them to do tomorrow.

Tonight is no different. They eat and talk about whatever comes up, relieving the same stories that always make them laugh and adding to the list of “reasons why Anakin probably shouldn’t be allowed out of the house.” Anakin and Ahsoka team up against Obi-wan and talk in a language of pop culture he doesn’t even pretend to understand, and Ahsoka teases Anakin for, in Ahsoka’s words, being a simp for his girlfriend. Obi-wan understands that even less than the rest of it, but it’s nice to see how close Anakin and Ahsoka are.

Predictably, none of the dishes get done and the kitchen is left a mess for them to deal with later. Ahsoka makes them watch some space movie that is impossible to follow and Anakin falls asleep on the floor, curled into a blanket. They leave him there to wake up in the middle of the night or the morning and head to bed.

Obi-wan is in his room reading in the worn-down armchair by the window with a cup of tea when Ahsoka comes in, socked feet shuffling against the floor, holding a pillow against her chest.

“Obi-wan?”

“Yes, dear?” Obi-wan places his reading glasses and book on the table and gives her his full attention.

“Do you think Rex and Cody will stay here? Like, for a while?” It breaks Obi-wan’s heart to hear the shake in her voice. She’s had to go through so many changes in the short period of her life, so he knows where this is coming from.

“I do. They seem like the kind of people to stick around for good.” Ahsoka nods, a look of relief passing over her features. He gives her his best smile. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m okay.” She turns to go back into her room, saying a quiet goodnight.

Obi-wan leans his head back into the chair and looks at the popcorn ceiling. A king sigh escapes him and he reaches for his book and readers.

Nothing like avoiding his problems with a good book.

~~~

The week passes slowly and without any problems. Anakin gets an A on an English test, which Obi-wan learns with pride. If there’s one thing he’s doing well, it’s teaching Anakin how to be a good reader. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Obi-wan visits Cody throughout the week, offering to pick up lunch for whoever’s at the apartment at the time and helping unpack boxes. He has genuinely no clue where anything goes, especially when it comes to the flowers downstairs, but Cody is patient and explains it while somehow completing all his tasks too.

Anakin convinced Padamè, Rex, and Ahsoka to go to the beach with him easily. What’s harder is convincing Echo and Fives not to go. In the end, Anakin agrees to take all of them in his tiny car, towels, and sunscreen packed under people's feet.

The first time they try to leave, after five minutes they have to turn back around because all of them collectively forgot that water is a human necessity, something Obi-wan is pretty sure he reminded Ahsoka and Anakin about many times.

So now they’re running around, finding as many water bottles as they can and filling them from the fridge. They’re then unceremoniously shoved into a tote bag produced from who knows where and placed in Rex’s lap in the front seat.

Ahsoka is standing by the door waiting for Anakin, who is trying to put his converse on with one hand. He’s jumping up and down, his foot twisting without success.

“Just let me do it,” sighs Obi-wan, holding his shoulder still and getting down onto his knees, which isn’t as easy as it used to be. He ties the shoe quickly and Anakin almost kicks him in the face while he’s getting up.

“Is that everything?” Anakin asks excitedly, hand already on the doorknob.

“It should be.” Ahsoka looks at Obi-wan and jumps up, giving him a quick hug.

“Thank you so much for letting us do this.”

“Of course. You really should be thanking Anakin, though. He was the mastermind.” Anakin grins and Ahsoka gives him a hug too. Anakin looks panicked for a second and pats her on the head. Obi-wan continues, “Anakin, please be careful.” Anakin rolls his eyes and grabs his skateboard from where it’s leaning against the wall. Another necessary item he forgot, apparently.

“No thanks,” replies Anakin, flashing the peace sign. Ahsoka grins and follows behind, copying Anakin.

“At least wear a seatbelt,” calls Obi-wan, his kids already down the stairs.

“Of course. And I’ll only speed a little bit.” Obi-wan hears the bell above the door jingle and stop.

“I don’t know if he was serious or not,” mutters Obi-wan to no one in particular. He doesn’t have much to do today since the usual driving forces behind his schedule are gone. The store is open, but one of their longtime employees and Ahsoka’s recommendation, Bariss, has insisted many times that she can take care of things when Obi-wan isn’t there. He thinks she just appreciates the quiet, and he can’t blame her. He enjoys the ambiance of the empty store too.

The only thing he can think of to do is bother Cody, but he doesn’t really want to be too much of an annoyance after only a week of knowing him. Maybe if he actually had a reason to go over there.

He thinks more about it as he goes around the apartment, folding random blankets and finding random cups that need to be washed to keep his hands busy. There are no upcoming birthdays or anything that warrant flowers. The end of the year is coming up soon, but he doesn’t think Anakin or Ahsoka really want flowers sitting in their rooms while they study for exams, definitely not with Anakin’s allergies.

There are always teacher gifts, but most of the teachers Ahsoka has, Obi-wan already know. They’ve told him many times that if he gets them any gift for any circumstances he’ll be disowned as a friend. Normally it’s a nice sentiment, but now it’s frustrating. It’s the same deal with some of Anakin’s teachers. The ones he likes are Obi-wan’s friends and the others he has no reason to give gifts to because they hate Anakin’s “loud classroom presence” and, by extension, hate Obi-wan.

That leaves the one school figure Anakin actually enjoys that Obi-wan doesn’t know. Sheev Palpatine, who, coincidentally enough, doesn’t feel too warmly towards Obi-wan. The feelings are mutual, but if it allows him to have something to do besides sit with his own thoughts, it could very well be worth it. Besides, isn’t showing interest in Anakin’s role models something he should do? Even if this specific role model is less than a role model and more of a slimy, weirdly-political school counselor.

Obi-wan grabs his keys and heads out the door before he can think himself out of it. Outside the weather is blessedly clear, no clouds in sight. The sun feels comforting and warm, but not too hot. Maybe he can go for a walk later. Maybe a certain someone will join him.

The door of Cody’s shop opens with a pleasing ding and Obi-wan is met with a smiling Cody, working behind the counter.

“Good morning, Cody.”

“Hi, Obi-wan. How can I help you?”

“Is there a way to send an insincere bouquet of flowers? Maybe to someone who you secretly despise?” Obi-wan leans across the counter, clasping his hands together.

To his credit, Cody gets straight to work with only a simple eye raise at the request. “I’ll tell you what I’m adding so it has extra meaning when you give them their fuck you bouquet.”

“You know me so well, dear.” Obi-wan pretends not to notice the smile Cody hides behind his hand.

“I doubt you can get away with sending them black roses,” muses Cody.

“No, I think my true sentiments might be found out in that case,” agrees Obi-wan with a laugh. “Subtlety is an underused form of passive aggression.”

“That it is.” Cody puts on a black pair of gloves and gets to work. “I’m going to keep it fairly simple, so we can avoid sending any mixed messages. First, I’ll start with some Petunias. They mean anger and dissatisfaction because they share similarities with the tobacco plant but don’t make any good smoke.” The magenta flowers are gathered together in a small round moon, one of Cody’s hands working on picking through the next group of flowers. “Next a good choice is a small concentration of the common Begonia, which represents negligence.” This one is a brightly colored red, with a yellow center. Cody expertly arranges them among the Petunias, blending the size and colors perfectly. “And, finally, last but not least we’ll add some Butterfly Weed. It simply means leave me. Maybe the sentiments will carry through?”

“I should be so lucky,” sighs Obi-wan. Cody looks up from arranging his flowers, noticing the dejection in Obi-wan’s voice.

“So, who’s the guy? Anything I should be worried about?” Obi-wan raises his eyebrows at Cody, who blushes and looks back down at his work.

Obi-wan caves in and explains. “It’s not anything like that. I would prefer something that easy, actually,” he laughs. “No, this wonderful bouquet of flowers is for Anakin’s counselor, Sheev Palpatine. It’s the end of the year and Anakin wanted to get him something. I was tasked with getting the flowers.”

“So what’s so bad about this Palpatine guy? No offense, but school counselor doesn’t really trigger every red flag in my head.”

“I don’t know,” answers Obi-wan mournfully. “Everyone seems to love him, but I just can’t seem to shake this feeling that there’s something off about him. And call it jealousy, but I don’t like how much Anakin depends on him and confides in him.”

“You just want what’s best for Anakin. There’s nothing jealous about that,” defends Cody, handing the flowers to Obi-wan, who accepts them with another sigh.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s not as if I judge every person who doubts my capabilities as a parent.” Cody stops the motion of taking off his gloves and looks at Obi-wan, eyes wide.

“He what?”

“His thoughts aren’t entirely unfounded, to be honest. It’s not as if I had much experience with children when I first took in Anakin. He was just so young and alone, and I didn’t have the heart to say no to anything he asked for. You know, the first morning I had him I spent the whole night anxious that I wouldn’t have any food he would eat. He took one look at the pantry, took a strawberry granola bar that might have been twenty years old, and sat at the counter. I was so nervous about breakfast that I didn’t have any of his school things ready and we missed his first class. Luckily, I’m friends with the teacher, Mace, so it ended up being okay. But it feels like everything I’ve done has been like that, with me not knowing what to do and everyone else telling me, albeit politely most of the time, what I’m doing wrong. Especially Anakin.

“And then, as soon as I was figuring things out again, Anakin insisted that we help out with Ahsoka when he met her at school and found out about her situation like I can just learn overnight how to budget and supply for another kid. Don’t get me wrong, I adore having Ahsoka around too. She gives us a balance we didn’t know we needed, and she’s so utterly different than both me and Anakin. That doesn’t mean it’s easy with her, though. I have Anakin’s chaos influencing her and my inability to control both of them doesn’t help. I worry she could be doing better somewhere else without me. Not to mention the number of times I’ve heard people offer to help with Anakin. Most people can tell I’m way over my head.” Obi-wan can tell he’s getting lost in his thoughts. It really wasn’t his intention to break down in front of Cody, but, as usual, the universe seems to have other plans for him.

“It doesn’t seem that way to me,” Cody says softly once he’s sure that Obi-wan is done. “Call me biased, but you’re a great guardian to those kids. You probably don’t notice the way they look up to you, but anyone else can see it clearly. I mean, the way Ahsoka talks about you to her friends when she comes over here or the way Anakin is always proud to tell people who he lives with. Are you perfect? No, but there’s no one that is. I’d say you’re doing pretty good for the situation you’ve been given. “ Obi-wan looks up at Cody, who’s methodically rearranging the flowers, not looking at Obi-wan. The black of his curls that shine in the fading light of the windows is completely captivating, stealing Obi-wan’s attention. His hands work deftly through the flowers, turning them to compliment each other perfectly.

Obi-wan doesn’t really want to talk about it anymore. He never wants to talk about it in general, but somehow Cody makes it easier. “I have to say, I’m surprised that you carry flowers with such negative meanings. Surely most people don’t want those dispassionate vibes when giving their grandmother.” It’s not the smoothest change of subject, but he genuinely doesn’t care. It’s not like he was trying to be subtle about the pain of the subject.

“You give flowers to your grandmother?”

“Well, no. I don’t know my grandparents.”

“Neither do I.” They sit with the revelations for a moment, and Obi-wan doesn’t really know how to proceed. He’s always had a gift of making situations uncomfortable. Luckily, Cody continues. “And I keep the flowers around for people like you. Most of the time people come by and ask for colors or just for occasions, but every once and a while people want them to mean something more than just pretty colors and sweet smells.”

“How many of them do you think actually explain the meaning behind the flowers they give?” Obi-wan is curious, he really is, but he also wants to stay here with Cody for as long as possible. It’s much preferred to the alternative.

“Absolutely none of them,” laughs Cody. “I don’t need to do a personal study to be able to tell that absolutely all of them are unable to express their emotions with actual words.”

“I resent that accusation. I am incredible at sharing my emotions,” defends Obi-wan, placing his hands down on the counter in front of him.

“I meant to real people, not to the plants in your bookshop.” Cody leans forward towards him, his forearms braced on the counter, mirroring Obi-wan. “Those don’t count.”

“Such harsh words. I suppose you’re a real talent in the emotional department?”

Cody laughs loudly, a movement by every part of him. His head leans back and his eyes close, happiness taking over his whole form. It almost serves as an answer to Obi-wan’s teasing question.

“Not at all. The Fetts aren’t known for valuing talking about emotions. I’m trying to change that with the younger ones, though. Rex is probably the best at it. God knows he didn’t get that from me. Here are your flowers.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.” Unfortunately, the bouquet is absolutely stunning, which isn’t what Obi-wan necessarily wanted for Palpatine. “It’s beautiful.”

“I do what I can.” Cody’s smile is small but blinding.

“Do you want to get lunch? I don’t know if you can take off or not, but I don’t really have much to do today, and I rather enjoy your company.”

“I go on lunch in twenty minutes,” supplies Cody.

“Great! I’ll take these over to my apartment and be back in twenty minutes.”

They end up going on a walk to the pizza place down the street, the pleasant sun Obi-wan noticed earlier made even better by the company. Obi-wan gets plain cheese, which Cody claims is disgusting, and Cody gets a hamburger pizza. It’s a nicer meal than Obi-wan’s had in a long time, and not because of the food. It’s the same greasy pizza as always, but Cody is a centering presence. He’s easy to be around in a way Obi-wan hasn’t known in what feels like forever.

They take up most of the early afternoon, talking away. There are times when Obi-wan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest because of the sheer presence that is Cody Fett. He’s quick to counter Obi-wan’s sharp humor and has a reply to everything Obi-wan says.

By the time they wrap up, they’ve made it through the pizza place, coffee shop, and back to Cody’s shop.

“I should let you get back to the rest of your day. I’m afraid I’ve eaten away a good portion of your day.”

“There’s nothing I would have rather done,” replies Cody earnestly. “You’re a good person to have around, even if your pizza choice is atrociously boring.”

“I think a lot of me is atrociously boring.“ Cody hits him across the head lightly for self-deprecation. “I mean, I’m such an interesting person whose ideal Friday night is not reading a book.”

“Better.” Any further conversation is interrupted by the arrival of Anakin and his crew, music blaring, and teenagers screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs.

“Oh goodness,” says Obi-wan. Rex gets out of the passenger seat first, holding his hands over his ears. Then comes Ahsoka out of the middle, followed by a fighting Echo and Fives. There’s a lot of pointing at each other and name-calling, typical of new teens.

“I should go deal with that.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks,” laughs Cody. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Please do. I’d love to stay updated.” Obi-wan greets Ahsoka and Anakin, who are both bubbling with stories to tell and a sugar high from who knows how many popsicles.

He somehow herds them up the stairs and into the apartment, where Ahsoka immediately collapses onto her bed and Anakin heads straight to the shower. Obi-wan orders take-out for them and gets out plastic plates.

Anakin comes out of his room with his hair in a wet tangle and he jumps onto the couch, effectively waking Ahsoka up. Obi-wan ignores the muttered asshole that comes from Ahsoka. It’s warranted in the situation.

Obi-wan brings the food into the living room and places it on the low table in front of the couch. He takes his usual spot on the perpendicular armchair and watches with amusement as Anakin and Ahsoka pile up their plates, the shared blanket in between them surely getting stained.

“Did you spend the whole day with your boyfriend?” asks Ahsoka innocently. Obi-wan thinks Anakin kicks her under the blanket.

“Excuse me?”

Ahsoka stays strong. “Your new boyfriend. Cody Fett. Should we pack our stuff up to move into their apartment or…?”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-wan starts. He quickly realizes he doesn’t have much else to say beyond that.

“That wasn’t a no,” points out Anakin, waving his fork at Obi-wan.

“Ooh, someone’s got a boyfriend,” sings Ahsoka.

“I see we’re acting like elementary school children now. Good. And, to answer your question, yes I did spend the day with Cody.”

“Holy shit, you were right, snips,” says Anakin with awe.

“Language, Anakin. And she was not right. Cody isn’t my boyfriend.” Anakin and Ahsoka must see something in his face because they drop it and watch the Great British Baking Show.

Later, Obi-wan gets a text that says “they were fighting over Taylor swift. I blame no one but her excellent songwriting.”

~~~~

“What are we having for dinner, old man?”

“I’m not that much older than you, you know.” Anakin scoffs and jumps up on the counter, effectively taking up most of the prep space for Obi-wan’s cooking. “And we’re having pasta. The spicy orange kind that Ahsoka likes.”

“The one with those little tomatoes?” Obi-wan can feel, with his sixth sense, a complaint about to come from Anakin.

“You can pick them out. I’ll leave them whole so you don’t accidentally eat one. God forbid you to put a vegetable in your mouth,” teases Obi-wan, taking out the saucepan and filling another with water to boil.

“It’s about the principle of the thing,” states Anakin, taking some of the cheese Obi-wan is shredding and popping it into his mouth, pieces falling all around him and down his shirt.

“You won’t be hungry if you keep eating that,” Obi-wan says lightly, shoving Anakin’s hand away from the cheese. He’s just about to simmer the cheese with the rest when there’s a knock on the door.

“Anakin, can you get that?” Anakin jumps off the counter and heads towards the front door. Some conversation is exchanged and Anakin leads Cody into the kitchen. Anakin looks at Obi-wan with raised eyebrows and Obi-wan shrugs as discreetly as he can. Anakin apparently loses interest and goes into the living room.

“Is now a bad time?” Cody looks tired. Bags under his eyes reflect the bone-weary look mirrored in twin pools of brown. Somehow, the grey curls at his temples seem more pronounced too, but Obi-wan is less inclined to view that as a sign of his tiredness. And it suits Cody well.

“Do you want some tea?” Anakin scoffs from his spot lounging on the couch and Obi-wan tries not to roll his eyes. Anakin always says that, according to Obi-Wan, tea is a solution to everything. It might be true. It’s no secret that Obi-wan derives a great deal of comfort from a nice cup of tea. Or, it might just be a way to keep his hands busy in uncomfortable situations. Neither can be proved.

“No, thanks. I’ve never really liked tea.” Cody takes a seat at one of the barstools by the island, across from Obi-wan.

“Coffee then?” Cody returns a distracted hum that Obi-wan takes as a further sign of the poor state Cody is in.

“Cody? Do you want some coffee?” This time he receives a nod in response, and he gets to work, turning on the coffee maker and getting two mugs out of the cabinet.

“I’ll have to apologize in advance. I don’t usually drink coffee, so the quality might not be up to any normal coffee-drinking standards.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Anakin, could you go get ready for dinner?” It’s a polite way to ask Anakin to leave the room. For perhaps the first time, Anakin takes the hint and jumps off his spot on the couch, winking at Obi-wan, which he pretends not to see.

“Don’t burn the food,” he calls over his shoulder.

“It happened one time, and if I recall correctly, it was your fault.” Anakin shows him a very specific finger in response and shuts the door to his room.

Cody raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that how things normally go?”

“Pretty much. Sometimes there are words instead of a finger. I would try to discourage it if I didn’t think that would simply make it worse, and I know he doesn’t mean it.” Cody doesn’t look totally convinced, but Obi-wan is used to that look when people observe the way he raises Anakin.

“Sounds healthy.” From anyone else, it would sound judgemental, but from Cody, it’s just a statement. No hidden meanings or sarcastic undertones. Not about something he knows is personal to Obi-wan.

“It can be.” The coffee maker decides now is a good time to start making the horribly loud and obnoxious screeching sound that it makes halfway through a cup of coffee. At this point, the conversation is completely useless. Obi-wan can hardly hear himself think.

The coffee is finished and he hands the mug to Cody, who takes it distractedly. Obi-wan takes this as a sign to start a conversation.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“What?”

“Well, I don’t think you came over just for my terrible coffee and rude teenager. I’m sure you have plenty of that at home.”

Cody gives him a pained laugh. “No, no that’s not why I came. I thought it would be nice to return the favor to you.”

“What favor?”

“Trauma dumping,” Cody says, matter-of-factly. “I can’t help but get the feeling that I’m letting my siblings down.”

“So you want to talk about it?” asks Obi-wan, settling down next to Cody on the bar stool.

“If you’re willing to deal with my shit,” sighs Cody. His head is in his hands, voice muffled.

“Of course I am. I know things like these are hard, and anyway I can support you I will.”

“Remember you agreed to this when you hate me at the end of the night,” warns Cody.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay. It’s just that they’re all so used to my dad being the one in charge of everything. Sure, if you had a small problem you went to an older brother. A bad grade wasn’t something you talked to him about. But the real stuff? That’s when you talked to my dad, not that he was any good at talking to his kids. I don’t know that they’ll ever see me as that person, and I don’t want them to live without someone to talk to. Hell, even if they do see me like that, how can I be any better than him? He’s the one who raised me, so I’m probably just as bad as him.

“I can’t even figure out how to explain to them that their dad gave up. He left, and now they’re supposed to just accept me as their new guardian like he never existed.”

“I mean, Boba practically thinks that he hung the fucking moon, and I don’t want to be the person that tells him how shitty of a dad he is. He hardly shows up when one of his kids graduates from high school. I practically had to beg him to come to Rex’s last game of the season against their biggest rival. I can’t be the one to tell him that, when I’m already the villain who took him away from his dad, who, by the way, decided all of a sudden that raising kids wasn’t for him. It took him long enough to realize that.”

“At some point in his life, Boba is going to figure out who his father is. Who he really is, not some fantasized version of him in his head, and when that happens, he’s going to also realize what you sacrificed to keep that a secret for so long.”

“I can’t live with myself if they hate me,” Cody admits, sorrow in his voice. “My brothers are everything to me. They probably don’t think I need them, but every time they come home late or spend the night somewhere else I can hardly control the panic that controls me. I won’t be able to handle it if they start faking smiles at me.”

“Well, I mean, you have to know that there’s no part of you I dislike or would disallude myself into falsely appreciating. I don’t think anyone would be able to hate you for taking this burden away from your brothers. It’s not something they should deal with at their age, and if they don’t want to realize that then they will when they’re older. You don’t need to worry about losing them, because they don’t want to lose you either. Family goes both ways.”

“I suppose. I knew I couldn’t be the only one on the street self-conscious about my parenting skills,” deflects Cody. It’s a tactic Obi-wan knows well.

“No, in that sense you’re in good company. Truly, the best there is.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~~~

Obi-wan is going to do it. He’s going to go over to Cody’s shop and ask him out. He’s endured an endless amount of taunting and teasing from Anakin and Ahsoka, so now he’s going to make it worth it.

The only problem is, that he can’t seem to walk out the door. He’s done everything else. He got dressed in a nice green sweater that Cody’s said makes his eyes look pretty. He brushed his hair and obsessively fixed it until he deemed it sort of acceptable. He put his glasses on then put in his contacts than did both again twice. But the smallest step, opening the door, seems impossible.

Another problem: it’s raining. Anakin took the only umbrella they have, which Obi-wan is realizing way too late is unacceptable. Obi-wan doesn’t really want to walk into his big declaration looking like a wet cat, even if the trope says it’s romantic.

He really doesn’t want to chicken out, though. If he doesn’t do it now, he won’t ever do it. He’s always braver at nighttime.

With a shaking hand, he turns the knob and walks down the stairs. The rings on his fingers glide

against the pictures on the walls as he descends. With another deep breath, he opens the front door of the shop and takes a step under the awning. Just a few more and he’s with Cody. A few more and he can breathe again.

He takes a running step into the rain, the puddle beneath his foot splashing up. He keeps going, crossing the street in seconds before wrenching open the door to Cody’s shop and shutting it firmly behind him.

He looks up to see a stunned Cody, midway through wiping down the front counter. His mouth is hanging slightly ajar, his hands poised in midair.

“Obi-wan? Is everything okay?”

“I, uh, wanted to get flowers for you, but I didn’t know which ones meant what without you.” The declaration is given with all the strength of a middle-aged man who just sprinted across the street in the rain. So, it’s breathy and he’s panting by the end of it, but he would never be able to tell with the way Cody is looking at him. Like he’s so much more than a bookshop owner.

“Could you, perhaps, help me?” Cody nods slowly and crosses behind the counter, his gaze never leaving Obi-wan.

“Of course. What do you want to say?” It’s somehow easier this way for the both of them, Obi-wan thinks. They can hide behind pretenses for a while and express themselves second-handedly through the flowers. It’s a thin illusion of safety.

“Something along the lines of I care about you deeply. Perhaps a tad romantic?” Obi-wan’s heart is beating rapidly against his chest, a pounding that he can hear in his head.

“Hellebore signifies relieving my anxiety. It’s a good one to start with, I think. Just to say that there’s no need to be nervous and your feelings are returned.” Cody’s voice is quiet, a lull that keeps Obi-wan’s attention like no other can. “Lily of the Valley means the return of happiness. As in, we make each other happy. The wax flower means lasting love. You can figure that one out by yourself, and I believe it’s a hope we share. Pearly everlasting, however, is one of my favorites for romantic purposes. They mean I will always remember you. I try to include them whenever I can.” Cody takes the flowers he mentions one by one and puts them in brown wrapping paper, cocooning them in each other. The colors bleed together in the dim lighting, a hue of vibrant everything that Obi-wan wants to memorize.

Cody passes the bouquet to Obi-wan, water droplets glistening in the low-string lights. “These are for you.”

“Actually, they’re for you,” Obi-wan corrects with a smile, tilting the bouquet back to Cody. The outstretched hand between them hovers uncertainty, but Obi-wan stares surely at the man in front of him. At the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and the thick leather band he wears around his waist. The flowers are chaotically arranged, with none of Cody’s usual hand-picked care. “What do you say, dear?”

Cody doesn’t answer, but he accepts the flowers from Obi-wan, placing them down gently on the counter. He turns around, and, looking at the flowers behind him, slowly moves towards the opposite corner. There, he grabs a pair of shears and takes out a single flower from the rest. It’s a simple purple flower with a bright yellow center and a ring of petals. He shuffles back to where he’s standing in front of Obi-Wan.

Taking his right hand from where it’s resting at Obi-Wan’s side, Cody brings it closer and threads their fingers together around the rose.

“In the Victorian era, flowers had a lot of significance, as I’m sure you know. It’s a little less known, though, that the, uh, hand that a flower was given with also means something. The left-hand means no. The right”- Cody squeezes their hands a bit-“means yes. Similarly, the New England Aster, the flower we’re holding, means I share your sentiment. It’s not a traditional part of flower arrangements, but I like to keep it around.”

“I, for one, am glad you do. Seems perfect for moments such as this.”

“Yes, well, things like this happen all the time with me. I’m a very sought-after man,” deadpans Cody.

“So I’ve heard. You even have that old bookstore recluse from across the street looking after you. Be careful, I hear he’s a tad stand-offish.”

“I think I can handle it,” breathes Cody. “Something tells me he’s not too bad once you get to know him. But that might prove to be a little hard.”

“Oh? How come?”

“I don’t think he’s very good at expressing emotions. But that’s something I might be willing to forgive.” Cody leans against the corner of the counter, their fingers still laced together tightly around the flower.

“What could possibly possess you to make you forgive such a thing?” Obi-wan follows the direction that Cody drags his hand, jumping onto the counter, which proves to be less of an easy feat than he expects. They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, one side of their bodies pressed together.

“Well, he’s got these beautiful blue eyes that try to hide his emotions, but he’s actually very bad at it. He’s taller than me, which usually I wouldn’t stand for, but somehow he makes it okay. He always listens to what other people want before he listens to what he wants, which can be a bit of a problem, but I’m trying to help with that. Not sure how well I’m getting through.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities. You seem very persuasive.”

Cody hums in agreement. “I can be when it comes to something important to me. Which, he is. You are.”

Obi-wan didn’t think his smile could get any bigger.

He was wrong.