#wtb

he feels so wrong- so creepy- for even wondering, but he can’t help it. sure, he’s seen you in your underwear, and slept in your bed, but it’s not enough.

he hasn’t seen you with your lips red and swollen, your mascara smeared and smudged, your bare body underneath his.

no. he feels like he’s betraying you by thinking about stuff like that. you’re his best friend, you’ve spent your whole lives together, and he’s sure you’ve never thought about this stuff with him…

“ani?… ani!”

your voice, sweet as ever, snaps him out of deep thought. you’re sitting next to him on somebody’s couch, at a house party padmé just needed to have you guys at. he smiles up at you, an almost dazed expression on his face. “hm?”

you giggle at him slightly, leaning closer to him so he could hear you over the painfully loud music being played. “gosh, what’d you drink? i swear, i’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, ever,”

“oh.” he smiles sheepishly, like a kid whose been caught sneaking candy. “nothi- i haven’t had anything. i’m driving you.” he reminds you.

“dunno, i figured you found someone else to.” you shrug dismissively, although you know he would never drink knowing he’s meant to drive you home. he shakes his head in response.

you smile up at him, and he sprawls his arm behind your shoulders and onto the couch, positioning himself closer to you. a content sigh escapes your lips as you take in your surroundings.

anakin watches the way your lips part, his eyes traveling down your body, taking in the tight dress you’re wearing tonight. gosh, did your tits spill out of it like this when you tried it on for him at the mall?

his mind almost drifts to what it would be like to take that dress of you, how it would feel to have those heels you’re wearing dig into his back. you don’t notice his stare, and how his pupils have grown so large you can’t see his irises.

he shakes those thoughts away as a few of his friends walk over. you don’t know them all well, but they’re always polite to you. you’re sure that anakin told them to be on their best behavior around you.

he greets them while you smile courteously, the shots you had with padmé and a few of your friends making you a bit more relaxed than usual.

“what, you and your girl sneak off to makeout?” one of the guys, who’s name you remember as james, says and nods towards his hand draped on the couch and over your shoulders.

you let out a small giggle, and you’re sure your face flushes, but you thank the dimmed lighting of the house party for hiding it.

truthfully, you often found yourself wishing you were ‘his girl.’ you know it’ll never happen, so you’ve gotten yourself used to just being his best friend.

still, you’ve never dated anyone, because they’re just not him. and when he’s asked as to why, you just smiled up at him playfully, replying with: “why would i need some guy, when i already make my best friend do everything for me?”

“yeah, we sure did.” anakin replies sarcastically. you know he’s only joking, but just the thoguht of it makes your spine straighten. you try to remain calm, laughing passively. you silently thank god for tequila.

james shrugs “i’m still surprised you’re not with her.” he says dismissively, ignoring anakins annoyed expression. “come on, you haven’t thought about it?” he says, laughing.

anakin doesn’t respond for a second, and you miss the slight smile on his face. “shut up, man.” he says, almost embarrassed. james holds his palms up in mock surrender, laughing.

“oh he definitely has.” laughs another friend, ethan, and you stifle a giggle. anakin shoots him a glare, and the rest of the guys just laugh.

the rest of the party goes on, and you and anakin get separated at some point, padmé dragging you along to go play beer pong or something.

you lose count of how much you’ve drank, and by the time anakin spots you in the crowd, you’re visibly wasted. he swears to himself, quickly bidding his friends a good night (ignoring their protests for him to stay) and hastily making his way over to you.

you’re leaned up against a counter, attempting to talk to one of your friends, while trying not to pass out or throw up right in the middle of the kitchen. anakin, like your knight in shining armor, quickly appears at your side.

“ani!” you slur, smiling up at him, quickly grabbing onto his bicep for balance. “hey sweetheart, i’m gonna take you home now, ok?” he says. you never drink, and on the rare occasion you do, it’s never more than a beer or a shot. he knows how wasted you are, and curses himself for letting you out of his sight.

“why?” you pout, wanting to stay longer. “you’re drunk baby.” he replies simply, as patient as always with you. you giggle at him. “yeah.”

he nods, smiling back. “yeah. you are.” he snakes one arm around your waist, steadying you, and you bid goodbye to your friend as he leads you out of the house. your heels click on the concrete driveway as he walks you down it, and he lifts you in the passenger seat of his truck, the throw blanket you always keep in your unofficial seat gets draped over you.

he starts his truck, soft rock music quietly fills the cab as you guys drive out of the neighborhood and down the street to yours. you reach up to grab his arm, his right hand coming off the wheel to intertwine with yours

after a while, the truck comes to a stop, and he gets out to open your door. you smile, unbuckling your seatbelt as he comes to your side of the car, helping you out and up the front porch stairs of your house.

as well as your moms being best friends, they also bought neighboring family houses, which has always called for lots of sleepovers between you and him. luckily, your parents are off on a trip, and mr. & mrs. skywalker know anakin is staying at yours, so there’s no need to have to sneak in.

he helps you up the stairs and into your bedroom, sitting you on your bed and kneeling down to take your shoes off. you giggle girlishly at the action, always finding the ways he takes care of you so sweet. anakin huffs out a laugh at your drunken glee, setting your shoes aside.

“hold on, ‘m gonna grab your water.” he says, walking over to your bedside table and filling a glass from your carafe and handing it to you. you gulp it down quickly, not realizing how parched you were, before saying a soft ‘thank you.’

he nods in response, handing you a nightgown to change into. normally, he’d be salivating at the sheer idea of you changing, but he’s so focused on making sure you’re comfortable and in bed, that he barley even notices. he turns around as you change, ever the gentleman, but he still catches notice of the way your nightgown puts your plush thighs on full display.

“wait. my makeup.” you say slowly, realizing you still have your makeup done. “hm?” he says, scanning your face with worry. “need to take my makeup off.” you explain, brows furrowed softly as you try to speak clearly. he realises what you mean and disappears into your bathroom, returning with makeup wipes, a damp washcloth, and moisturizer.

he’s seen you do this routine a million times, so he has no difficulty gently removing your makeup. he has one hand on the back of your head as he tilts it up to make sure he’s removed everything, before rinsing your skin with a warm cloth. you smile softly as he applies moisturizer, amused by how focused he looks doing it.

“good?” he asks, and you nod, crawling into bed and pulling the cool cotton sheet over your body. your eyes instinctively close and you feel the bed dip beside you as anakin lies down, now changed into just a pair of flannel pants. you lay on his bare chest, melting into the warmth.

he wraps his arm around your waist, his thumb rubbing small circles into your back. “i had fun.” you say, the tiredness overcoming the alcohol in your system. “yeah?” he replies, smiling down at you as you nod into his chest.

“mhm.” you mumble, and he leans down to plant a kiss to the top of your head. “i’m glad.” he says softly, trying to lull you to sleep. you crane your head up, your eyes shut as you whisper to him. “i’ve thought about it, too.” you admit, before laying back down.

his thumb freezes, no longer tracing patterns on your back, but it doesn’t matter as he already feels you sleeping. if it wasn’t for the fact that james’s words haven’t been playing on loop in his head all night, he’d be confused by what you said, but truthfully he can’t stop thinking about it. do others know how he feels about you? is it obvious? is it obvious to you?

he must have been imagining it. maybe you said something else. besides, you’re wasted and delirious. surely you couldn’t have been admitting your feelings to him.

right?