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Walking through your apartment door, you immediately kick off your torturous heels into the small pile of other shoes in the entrance. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, feeling the cool tile floor sink its teeth into your bare feet, and your shoulders slump slightly forward now that no one important would be looking at you. Yes, the comfy confines of your apartment is your own little safe haven and you were a-okay with it.

You toss your keys onto your small dining table that sat in its nook by the balcony and an all too familiar beep from your data pad calls to you. A smile comes to your features and the excitement in your stomach grows.

You pull it out with earnestness, your smile ever growing when you read the name and the text that came with it.

Tech: I apologize for my delayed response, but here’s why you are incorrect:

The concept of “love” is purely subjective. Any “scientific” findings can hardly be attributed as fact. “Love” is merely a concept, a fallacy. A phenomenon, if you so wish.

Now, to be honest, what this man (whom you do not actually know) said broke your heart, yet set it ablaze all the same. He did have some points, but you were going to argue to hell and back on this subject. It was kind of your livelihood.

YN: I won’t say that you are incorrect, that love is subjective. However, on a physiological level we do experience “love”. Our whole body is included when this happens, all five of our senses! There’s stages to love and even found chemistry!

You bite on your bottom lip, anxiously watching his little thought bubble illuminate as he is typing back a response.

Tech: That’s interesting you say that. Please, do explain in further detail, YN. I’m most curious about this research.

Thank the stars and Maker you live alone. The pitchy school-girl squeal you emit as you begin rapidly typing away your explanations would have surely gotten you some sideways glances. You find yourself so ecstatic to share your knowledge on romance, you are a romantic! A hopeless one maybe, but a romantic still.

You skip over to your plush bed, laying down and smiling as you send multiple texts in a row. You really are passionate about this, although the true science of love isn’t your main focus. No, it isn’t about science for you. It’s about literature. The emotions that words can have. How one can convey just so much devotion with one singular sentence!

Still, you decided to dabble in the science of love just a little. And thank the stars again because it’s proving useful right about now.

YN: Our brains release a magnitude of chemicals such as dopamine, serotonin, norepinephrine, and the chemicals oxytocin and vasopressin reinforce the attachment a couple has that makes the relationship last!

Tech: I do see how that is accurate. The chemicals you listed are definitely considered “happy” and therefore could explain “love” on a more complex level. You have done some extensive research on this matter. Is this your profession?

YN: No it’s not. I study romantic literature. Kinda a hopeless romantic, if you will. I’m a really big sucker for the “found family” trope. Do you read any literature like this?

Tech: Well, you’ve surely impressed me with the science even if it isn’t your expertise. I do read from time to time, however it is more about news articles, history texts, and manuals for all sorts of technology. What is the “found family” trope? It interests me.

You giggle to yourself. Tech reads manuals? You shake your head with a smile at this nerd on your screen, typing an answer to his question.

YN: “Found family” is when a group of unrelated characters create a sort of pseudo family based on shared or similar experiences. Usually the characters aren’t related by blood but sometimes there are characters who are maybe half siblings or adopted.

YN: Why I like this plot device so much is because I dream of having my own family someday. For now, I’ll experience my dream through fiction. What about you, Tech? Do you want to experience creating your own family?

On the receiving end of your text, Tech is stumped. He can feel his heart rate increase as he thinks about how to answer.

Tech: …that is a difficult question. It depends on what you mean. I do not think that I have ever really understood the typical emotional connections that most people have to the concept of a family. Due to reasons, of course. However, I would like to find someone…someone that I can connect with on a deep level, who I can share my life with. Do you know what I mean?

You stare in wonder at his message. What did he mean by “I do not think that I have ever really understood the typical emotional connections that most people have to the concept of family”? Surely this man has a mother and father, at the very least? No matter how many questions you have for him, you don't want to pry and make him uncomfortable.

YN: A significant other, I believe, is the concept you're looking for. And, yes. I also would like to find a significant other to share life's endeavors and to grow with.

Tech: I see. Yes, that is the concept that I am searching for. I find it difficult to comprehend this concept because I am, by nature, a rather independent and self-sufficient person. I am not used to feeling a need for someone else.

Tech: However, I would like to find someone who can help me to understand how to feel these things, if you know what I mean? I would love to help someone grow, just as I would want someone to help me to grow.

Somehow you feel like time has stopped. Reading what Tech said about wanting to find that someone kicks your heartbeat into overdrive. Your breathing is slightly out of rhythm but you feel absolutely fine. Then you close your eyes and shake your head.

You don’t know this man beyond your screen. You met him a week ago by pure chance. He had responded to a little snippet you posted on the holonet and it jostled your emotions enough for you to respond back. You and him have been talking since. Primarily, and personally, you find his comments intelligent and his conversation is so stimulative! Your friends that you know closely don’t have this kind of communication like Tech. It’s a nice change of pace, truly.

YN: I understand completely, Tech.

Tech: And how about yourself? What are your thoughts on this concept? What would you say is your definition of a perfect significant other?

Tech: To me, my perfect significant other would be someone who is willing to accept me for the man that I am, and who has some of my core traits, such as logic, independence, and an unwillingness to rely on someone else. I would like a significant other who can help to offset my shortcomings, as I would help them with theirs. I believe that such a person would be a perfect match for me. What about you, YN? What traits do you favor?

This man continues to leave you stunned. You really didn’t expect him to give you a full description of what he wants in a partner! You situate yourself to sit on your bed, no longer feeling like this conversation is lazy. It seems like he’s actually moving away into a deeper conversation with you. Does he want to get to know you more… personally?

You take a deep breath, trying very hard on getting a normal pattern again. You reread his message and figure you will simply answer his questions.

YN: I favor a man who's honest, independent, logical, and patient. I expect him to be caring, wanting to understand me for me. Who will not judge me of my past, but will help me on my journey to become a better version of myself. Of course, I would like him to enjoy some things I enjoy, but ultimately I would love for him to be different so that we may be able to learn from each other.

The rapid beating of your heart returned. There is something about this conversation that is seriously so… exciting. You can’t quite explain why, but there’s a suspicion rising in your chest. It’s subtle but there. You find yourself nibbling on your knuckle as you wait for Tech to respond.

Tech: That is an excellent choice! I am quite a firm believer myself in the idea that differences are what can create a good relationship. My belief is that if two people in a relationship are too similar, there becomes an increased risk of conflict.

Tech: Having the two people within a relationship being different allows the two people to work well together. I believe that I could work well with someone who has a good mix of similarity and differences. I think you are quite wise, YN. Would you say that you are happy with your life at the moment?

His last question makes you raise an eyebrow. No one’s asked that before. Are you happy? You lower your data pad into your lap and take a moment to reflect.

You scan your room, seeing this place you’ve built and made your home brings a small smile to your face. You think about the job you have. You love reading and writing, getting to share all sorts of information about love with others fills you with a warm feeling. You’ve got a close circle of friends which you see a few times a month and you wouldn’t trade them for anyone else. Your upbringing was normal, so no complaints there.

Though, your dating life could be better. You weren’t really dating around but you know if someone offered you wouldn’t say no. This part of your life you’ve been letting it work itself out.

You bring your data pad back into your hands and type your answer.

YN: I am content with it. Although, I believe there is something missing. I know, however, I will find what it is in due time. Maybe it’s the lack of romance in my own life… What is your opinion on finding a significant other?

Reading your message, Tech tilts his head and looks away from the screen. Your question is a little daunting to him. He’d never really thought about it.

As a newly runaway soldier of the Republic he could probably try and form his own opinion on a partner. Though, he wondered if being an ex-soldier — and now renegade of the Empire — would be an appropriate lifestyle to harbor a relationship. Still… a man can still hope, right?

Tech: I see. Yes, I do believe that you have a good outlook on it. It can be difficult to know what it is that is missing, but that does not mean that you cannot work towards finding what it is that you are missing. I am content with my life as well. Perhaps not fully happy, but that does not mean that I cannot become happy.

Tech: As to your question, I think that finding a significant other should happen when the time is right. It is important to be patient, and to look for someone who best fits your needs as a person. Would you agree?

YN: I do agree! My father used to say “patience yields focus”. I really do try and apply it everywhere in my life and so far it’s proven useful. I’m glad we can see eye-to-eye about this, Tech. I think, especially now, many people are desperate to find love on their own.

Tech: I share the same sentiment. We seem to understand each other.

Tech: Unfortunately, I do not have any more time to further our conversation today. I would very much like for this to continue, however, and of course that is if you would prefer to continue as well.

YN: I would like nothing more than to continue our conversation later. I understand life can get busy, so shoot me a message whenever you find time again.

Tech: Thank you. I will.

You put your data pad down again and let out a breath like you were under water. What was that conversation? You place a hand over your heart and can feel it violently pumping against your ribs. Shutting your eyes with a small smile you recognized this feeling all too well. The fluttering in your stomach was as tell-tale a sign as any. Yes, you have developed a crush. A crush on someone over the holonet. A crush on someone who happened to comment on your writing. A crush on Tech.

You chuckle softly to yourself. This is silly. Still, you’ve learned not to hold back your emotions and simply let them flow through you. Decidedly, you are not planning on doing anything with this crush. You were going to watch things play out for themselves. Whatever happens happens.

word count: 2,198.

beta read by: @beating-a-dead-plot I LOVE YOU 💛 mwah, mwah!

tag list: @dangraccoon @i-am-the-geek-overlord @kixs-husband @ihaventpickedausername

Living on a ship, it’s never easy. Going out to battle, unable to know if any word or any breath will be your last is—of course—terrifying. And after the many months of being away, he still remembers the last words she’d said to him before he left.

Come back to me, she’d whispered, her lips next to his ear, the morning sun just beginning to shine through her curtains.

And as he left, het let the words repeat in his mind, until eventually, the sound of her voice was engrained there. If he thought enough, he could hear her laughter, could see her smile.

Those things, however small, brought him comfort.

And although now those memories feel as if they now only exist as phantoms—partially disappeared and systems away—they’re enough to lull him to sleep most nights.

And on days when that isn’t enough, when the toll of war is too much, he looks to the stars, and he remembers. He  remembers the freckles on her back, he remembers the sparks in his eyes, and he simply remembers this: She is somewhere out there, made of stardust and love, she is out there.

And by getting through on those sentiments, he finds himself on the other side of the five months. There’s new scars on his back, new burns across his shoulders, and new memories he’d rather not think of, but soon enough he would be home. On Coruscant. With her.

Finally, they’re being sent back. The aid had been successful, and he could breathe. And what a lovely thing that is. Anxiously waiting to see his love again, yet feeling as though any stress had finally been lifted.

And so he waits, eyes falling shut every now and then, and simply lets himself feel as the ship moved.

And when they finally land, when he can finally feel the buzzing energy of Coruscant around him, he feels his shoulders drop.

He’s finally okay.

He’s finally come back.

On the tarmac, he can see a small crowd of people waiting. Senator Mothma, Senator Organa, Padmé, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, and, of course, her. He tries to keep himself from letting his gaze settle on her for too long, instead focusing on the way Anakin and Ahsoka quietly bicker next to her.

He has to suppress his laughter, only letting the beginnings of a smile come upon his face. Of course, that smile becomes much harder to suppress when he finally lets his gaze drift to her.

She looks as beautiful as ever, her hair falling around her face, loose strands blowing as the wind catches them. She wears a black jumpsuit, dark enough to contrast Senator Mothma’s pure white, with a cape hanging gracefully off her shoulders, catching the wind almost as much as her hair.

He has to remind himself to keep walking, to look over at Senator Organa or Ahsoka because he cannot control the way his smile looks in this moment.

But then she speaks.

And it’s steady, her voice smooth and professional and everything he’s missed.

“General Kenobi,” She says, “It’s nice to see you again.”

His eyes look over at her once more, and there’s a smirk on her face, one that no one would notice if they didn’t know her, but of course, Obi-Wan knows her. More than most people.

“And you as well,” He replies. He bows his head, and then turns to Anakin.

“May I ask why I have a greeting party?” He asks.

Anakin laughs, Ahsoka grinning up at him. She really does admire him, Obi-Wan knows. He wonders if Anakin thinks the same of him.

“Your presence has been requested, along with ours, at a Senate meeting. You’ll be attending with Senator Mothma while Ahsoka, Rex, and I attend with Senator Organa and Senator Amidala.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flick over to hers, and she offers him a smile, her eyes beginning to soften from their normal professional look.

“Well then, I suppose we should head off,” He says.

As they leave, Ahsoka slows to walk next to him.

“We’re all glad you’re back,” She says, her voice quiet, “I think Anakin missed you.”

“And you didn’t?” He replies, a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh, certainly not,” She retorts. But there’s a smirk on her face, and she bumps her shoulder with his before she walks ahead, returning to her spot next to Anakin.

And when he’s sure there are no longer eyes on him, he lets his gaze settle on his love. Simply watching as she walks, dramatic cape billowing behind her.

He notices the dots of white along her cape. Sparkling in the sun. He wonders if she realizes just how fitting that is.

—————

It’s another late night when he finds himself sneaking into her quarters. He knocks three times, softly, and then she’s standing in front of him.

And here, Obi-Wan realizes, is where he can finally, truly, deeply breathe. There are no eyes on him, no one except them. It’s a peace that he hasn’t felt in months.

She pulls him inside, and before the door’s even closed, she’s got her arms wrapped around him, face buried into the crook of his neck.

“Obi,” She whispers, muffled by his robes, “I missed you so much.”

His arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer.

And that’s all she needs to know he feels the same. Without much other thought, she leads him towards her bed, letting them both lay for some much needed rest.

Obi-Wan sheds his robes, revealing the new scars that lay across his back, and he feels as her hand raises, delicate fingers coming up to trace them. And then he feels the weight shift in the bed, and she’s sitting behind him, her lips pressing kisses to his shoulders.

His hand finds hers, and he closes his eyes, allowing himself to be enveloped by the feeling of comfort and home and absolute love that surrounds him.

“I thought of you every night,” He whispers. She leans her head against his back.

“I thought of you too,” She replies.

Silence hangs between them. He can feel her breathing against him, can feel the kiss of her lashes against his skin.

“When all of this is over,” He says, “Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

“No,” She says, “You’ll stay here on Coruscant, and I’ll find a place here with some Senator.” She pauses, letting her hand run up and down his arm. “You’ll stay with the Jedi.”

“I don’t want to leave you like that again,” He replies.

She presses a kiss to his shoulder once more.

“I know, my love. You won’t.” Her arms wrap around him. “I’ll always be here.”

That night, when he looks out at the stars, he doesn’t have to think of her, yet he does anyway. Her head lays next to him, her arm thrown lazily across his chest, yet he still thinks of her laugh as he looks out at the stars.

He doesn’t know if that habit will ever end. Some part of him hopes it doesn’t. The stars are a constant reminder of who she is. Her brightness, her beauty, her ability to shine light onto others.

And there’s a wonder about her. He turns his gaze to where she is, sleeping soundly next to him.