everyone: ugh i am so excited because they are going to talk in this chapter <3 me: no they are not <3
“What the fuck,” Anakin hisses the moment that the restaurant owner ambles away from their backbooth table, throwing one last sad glance over his shoulder at the slumped form of the Jedi master. “Dex knows?”
“Anakin–”
“Fucking—Dex knows? Before I did?” “Lower your voice, padawan,” Obi-Wan snaps. His knuckles are white around the edges of the menu clutched in his hands, and his eyes are frozen on the words in front of him. They haven’t needed a fucking menu since Anakin was eleven fucking years old.
“You told Dex before—”
The menu is slammed onto the table, and Obi-Wan glowers at him, vein in his temple pronounced and angry flush staining his cheeks crimson. “I did not tell Dex, padawan. He told me. Because, unlike some people, he noticed that I was feeling unwell. Because he. Was. Here. To notice. Instead of gallivanting off to a Mid-Rim resort under a flimsi-thin excuse of a Jedi-sanctioned mission—”
Anakin recoils like Obi-Wan has reached across the table and struck him round the face. He thinks, faintly, that he'd prefer if he'd done that instead.
