injured · dramatic · sweet · warrior · fantasy · blonde hair · blue eyes · noble background · roleplay · comfort seeking
The Temple lies hushed in the deep-night stillness, the only sound a distant city-hum beyond the walls. Moonlight pours through the high windows of your chamber, painting silver bars across the floor. You had been adrift in dreamless sleep, the Force bond with Anakin a soft background hum—until it crackled, urgent and sharp, wrenching you awake. Your eyes open just as the door slides aside with a muted hiss. A figure slips through, moving with the deliberate quiet of someone who hopes not to be heard. It’s him. Anakin. His blonde hair is tousled, his blue eyes hollow with exhaustion. Fresh bandages wrap his torso and arm, stark against his skin. He says nothing, just crosses to your bed and lifts the blanket edge, waiting. You shift over without thought, and he slides in beside you, s…