Chapter Text
“I can’t believe you could be so reckless and careless! Sometimes I wonder how Master Yoda had the patience for you, all the talent in the world, yet the objectiveness and hindsight of a balrog,” Obi-Wan yelled while walking towards her, shutting the door behind him. Once again, feeling the tightness and heartbeat in his chest increase tenfold. Every time and every encounter ended with this feeling pounding in his chest and soul.
Melody rose from her desk, dropping the stack of files she held on the desk with a large thump. “How about ‘Good Afternoon General Light, lovely weather we’ve been having’ or I would even settle for a knock on the door before you strut in here and insult me, General Kenobi.”
“The mission to Mandalore, you signed off on it without consulting me, correct?”
“Excuse me?”
Obi-Wan stepped three steps closer, knowing that if he stepped one more, the feeling in his chest would rise to his head. Close enough to prove his point, far enough to hold back. Looking down into those grey eyes was dangerous, reckless even, for anything longer than mere seconds.
“The mission to Mandalore, and you signed off on it. Without consulting me.”
She laughed.
“Oh, so that’s what this is about. I make one decision for this war on MY terms, and it’s the world’s end. Just ask the council, see what they say,” Melody said while looking him up and down.
Even angry, it looks like the stars themselves sculpted him.
“How surprising, blaming the council and not taking any responsibility for this oversight. Nothing changed since you were a padawan, except you’re older and much more insufferable,” Obi-Wan said, taking another step toward her. He was playing with fire. Dancing with the uncrossable line, he knew it was wrong. But Maker, did it make him feel alive.
Suddenly Melody turned around, reaching over her desk and grabbing a holo pad. A recording started to play, with a hologram of Master Windu floating in the air.
“Watch it and listen, General Kenobi. Perhaps you’ll learn patience,” she said while thrusting the holo pad on his chest.
Her fingers felt the fabric of his robe for the briefest of moments. She touches him, only for a second. Backing away, he let the recording play out,
They stood there in silence as the recording played, and he could feel her glare through the hologram. She was right, and he was wrong, but he would never admit that to her, at least not in person. His biggest fear lay with that moment of weakness that the words would come spilling out, and all the self-restraint in the world wouldn’t be able to hold him back. Three words would change everything.
“General Light, my apologies for the way I accused you today. But you must understand how I got to that conclusion; you’ve done these things before,” Obi-Wan said, looking away from her.
Melody scoffed.
“Even when you are WRONG, you can’t admit it. You are always placing the blame on anyone, especially me, but yourself. I’ve seen Anakin give more genuine apologies than the one you just gave me,” Melody laughed, turning around.
“Will you just listen to me and take the damn apology!” Obi-Wan said, exasperated, reaching out to grab her arm.
As his hand made contact, he pulled her back. Feeling her body up against his, he felt the tightness in his chest exploding. Obi-Wan felt his heartbeat pounding in his head, and every breath became manual, inhale and exhale. His eyes wandered down and settled into those grey eyes, the eyes that haunt him every hour.
“Let go of me,” she attempted to wrestle her arm away. Melody could easily maneuver her arm away, but deep in the most secretive part of her heart, she relished feeling him against her.
“Accept my apology, General, or you’ll only prove my point. That you’re an ineffective and childish leader” Obi-Wan stared her down, hoping to relieve the feeling in his chest.
“I can’t, I won’t since you detest me and see my existence as less than the great Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Melody spats back at him with the pain and anger blazing in her heart. She yanked her arm back and started to walk away.
He followed her. Maker knew he shouldn’t, but the simple touch of her on his hand and chest was euphoric. Borderline addictive.
Reaching out, he grabbed her arm again and pulled her back. This time Obi-Wan pushed her back on the wall. Looking down, he saw her eyes, lips, and face even closer. Studying every inch of her, the way her hair tousled by stress in the front, her lips almost begging. The face and soul led to intense meditation after every argument to relieve the tightness and pounding in his chest. And the same soul who had him questioning every purpose he had in life, every oath and promises he made to himself.
Obi-Wan knew he was playing with fire.
“Get out”
He paused. His face was only inches away from hers.
“General Kenobi, get out.” she looked at him, her heartbeat pounding louder with every passing second.
She could feel his breath on her face, heavy, almost panting.
His blue eyes looked down at her grey ones. His blue signature danced around her cyan signature, fighting in harmony. The tension behind his eyes, the urge to turn around and walk out the door. Yet he remained, letting his chest grow tighter, and his breathing became more sporadic.
Breaking away from his gaze, she turned away. Trying to escape that buzz, that tension she couldn’t seem ever to get away from or relieve.
Back against the wall, her breathing slowed, yet her heart was pounding louder than ever. This tension only got worse with every passing day. It started when she was on Tatooine; it led her to every clumsy young padawan in hidden closets, every handsy Knight who thought the rules didn’t apply to one-night flings in the back rooms, every single body, and hands that she had to try and relieve her soul from this tension. And it was this tension that led to her dreaming and fantasizing about his eyes, his body, and his very existence in the middle of the night.
She moved; he pushed back.
“Damn you, why can’t you leave my head. All I’ve ever wanted is order, serve this high purpose, obeying the code to perfection. You don’t leave my head; you are the very thing keeping from perfection.” Obi-Wan closed his eyes and kept breathing. If he was playing with fire, he might as well get burned—anything but the feeling in his chest that haunted him for years.
“You are the bane of my existence,” Said almost like a prayer.
“And the object of all my desires.”
Melody looked at his face, his eyes scrunched together, his mouth wide open, and his lips. Reaching behind, she grabbed his hair and pushed their lips together.
This touch meant to shut him up, yet she was shocked when she felt him go along. His hands moved down and around her lower back. Her hands were in his soft hair, pulling him closer. Their lips moved in tandem like two lost souls connecting again. His signature melded with hers, and her heart swelled. This touch wasn’t a simple kiss; this was the reunion of bodies, souls, and forces down to the atoms in their bodies—long, desperate, sensual, and addicting.
She pulled away. Obi-Wan’s face looked drunk, masked in shades of red, breathing heavily. An unspoken communication occurred between their eyes, almost agreeing or acknowledging their tension. I need you more than I ever wanted to.
He moved his lips next to her ear.
“Yet you are the light that brightens my soul, the spark to my universe, and no matter what I do, you remain. Curse you, curse this.”