if i built a raft, will you stay with me then?
WARNINGS: mention of reader having hair long enough to catch and yank | hair pulling | angst no comfort | mild violence | psychological warfare | vader!anakin.
Dark, warm, and comfortable. Your sleeping body tucked within itself, rising and falling so peacefully. ANAKIN SKYWALKER had crept inside the room, crawled to lay alongside you, but that was ages ago. No sleep is in his eyes, only a blue fire in his chest, dulled by your flowery scent.
Not even the Pillars of Creation could be as beautiful as you, he thinks. Inclining towards you, soaking up your sunlight, your presence feeds him. As quiet as a field mouse, he dare not disturb you, lest the hawk hear and snatch you up. Separating you from him.
To separate… to be separate. Apart. Has he done that himself? Is he the hawk? A question that begs for reconsideration, tearing at the walls of his mind as you thrash in his grip.
“You monster! You insane, hopeless, crazy monster!” you cry, your halting words faltering into delicacy with each passing syllable. Your once sugar-sweet voice, that serenaded him into complacency, is now a grating, desperate scream. It feathers out as the acceptance of your fate seals itself unwillingly, choking back sobs.
His outstretched hand encloses into a fist, one finger at a time. The shuttle you’d prepared for your escape, dents within itself.
“No! Stop!” you plea, and you dive for it. As if you could shield it with your body. His grasp on you is unforgiving, and to discipline you for your attempt, he uses your momentum against you. Digits twisting into your flowing hair, yanking you back to him as you yelp, and you land against his chest, disoriented; the burn in your scalp pacifies you briefly. The metal creaks in pain, its execution interrupted. Anakin stoops, catching you and swiftly fixing you over his shoulder. The impact of his shoulder against your gut expels a grunt from your lips, but you recover yourself. Unable to conjure any other plan, you aimlessly writhe. Pinned, his thick arm fastens around your thighs, and he ignores your hollow strikes at his lower back.
Undeterred, his newfound anger only aids him in completing his endeavor, your ship collapsing entirely, crushed under the weight of Anakin’s immense Force pressure. As if it is as thin as an aluminum can. Fat, hot tears well up at the sound of your last hope extinguishing like a candle’s flame in the rain. Defeated, the heels of your hands dig into your eyes, squeezing out sparkling tears, pitted-pattering onto the floor below. Your sob intensifies as you listen helplessly to the shuttle howling against the deck, screeching while Anakin marches forward, tipping its weight over the edge of the platform. Uncontrollably sniffling, unable to catch your breath, you’re wracked with despair, and you flinch at the crash caused by his misdeeds.
Your escape, destroyed. The surge of overwhelming emotion spills out of you in sobs, as Anakin returns to his base, with you in hand, retreating from the fiery inferno that was once your transport.
Is he the hawk? he shakes the thought away.
