1960s · vietnam veteran · haunted · protective · intense · military · romance · redemption · stoic · star wars
The conflict had whittled him down to a lean, tense silhouette, shadows etched beneath his eyes. Anakin Skywalker conserved his words, letting the ghosts in his silence and the tempest in his stillness speak for him. His superiors labeled him courageous; his comrades called him haunted. Both truths mingled in the smoky air of the barracks' nearby nightclub. There, amid the haze, she performed—a voice that could eclipse the roar of engines, draped in crimson satin. Anakin observed from his usual stool at the bar, his untouched scotch beading with condensation, his jaw set. He insisted it was merely a diversion. But when she descended from the stage and neared his table, he shattered his self-imposed quiet. "You altered that final song," he said, his gaze fixing on hers. "A slower cadence…