Song that I listened to on repeat while I wrote this chapter on top hehe Also if you haven't seen 'crybaby' what are you doing with your life? 😭

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Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 36
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2.4k words

Anakin's POV

There was a chapter in my life when ambition coursed through my veins, a relentless drive to excel in school, all in pursuit of the college of my dreams. This fervor was ignited by my mother, who recognized the spark of potential in me when I was merely eight years old. I would share with her the wild inventions that danced in my imagination, and she, with unwavering belief, urged me to become the finest version of myself.

While most children my age were outside, forging friendships, riding bicycles, or engaging in playful adventures with sticks and stones, I found solace in solitude. I was at home, sketching out what I envisioned to be the next groundbreaking invention. I was blissfully naive, preferring the vibrant world of my imagination over the stark reality that loomed—a reality that often felt like a cruel joke.

The day my mother passed away, reality struck with a brutal force, shattering my dreams alongside her. If she could see me now, I knew she would be filled with disappointment, and I couldn't fault her for it. My grades plummeted, I became entangled with Andres' gang, and ultimately, I found myself behind bars. A part of me felt a twisted relief that she was no longer here to witness my downfall, sparing her the anguish of watching the future we had envisioned together dissolve into a distant memory. I believed my life was beyond redemption, a mere shadow of the aspirations I once held dear.

Then, everything changed when I met (y/n). Suddenly, a future with her shimmered brighter than any dream I had ever dared to imagine.

I hadn't planned on falling for her; initially, I was a self-centered jerk, viewing her as just another face. But the moment she stepped into my home for the first time, something shifted within me, though I stubbornly resisted acknowledging it. The true realization hit me during our playful water fight at the bakery, when laughter filled the air and my heart raced uncontrollably. In that instant, I knew I was falling in love, and the thought of not kissing her felt like a madness I could hardly bear.

I longed to express to her that, despite my initial deceit, I fell so hopelessly in love. Yet, deep down, I understood she would never accept my words, and I held no resentment toward her for that. I had manipulated her, spun webs of lies, and shattered the trust she had so cautiously extended to me.

Now, I found myself once more in the same desolate space I had occupied during my mother's passing. A swirl of depression, self-destruction, anger, and isolation enveloped me.

Perched on the edge of a tranquil pond in an empty park, the only company I had were a few ducks gliding across the water. In my hands lay a small bag, a remnant from Scottie, my former dealer.

The white powder inside remained untouched, a silent testament to my turmoil. I gazed at it, lost in memories of our last moments as friends and the dark path it led me on.

Initially, I hadn't sought out Scottie; I had returned home, where a box awaited me—filled with a tattered bear and flowers, the same ones I had sent to (y/n) earlier that day. After what felt like an eternity of tears, I found myself in this very spot, wrestling with the urge to numb the pain. I knew it would only be a fleeting escape, but my answer had always been to stay high, to keep the hurt at bay.

As I sighed, my eyes drifting over the pond's surface, I heard the grass rustle behind me, the sound of deliberate footsteps. "Go away, Piett. I need solitude right now."

A chuckle broke the silence, igniting a fire within me, "Not Piett," came the voice of Andres, halting just behind me.

I turned my head slightly, casting a wary glance at the man who failed to instill fear in me, no matter his attempts. The only reason I hadn't exposed him was the gnawing worry about what he might do to my family. "Are you ever going to stop following me?" I shot back, irritation lacing my words.

He approached and settled beside me, his companions lingering at a distance. "I wasn't following you; I merely noticed your motorcycle parked on the street," he replied with a casual shrug, his gaze fixed on the pond while I seethed, my eyes boring into him. "Thought I'd check in on you."

I let out a derisive snort, nearly laughing at the absurdity of it all. "As if you actually care. You just wanted to see the wreckage of your own making," I snapped through gritted teeth.

He turned to face me, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I didn't do anything wrong, Kinny. I merely told her what she needed to hear. You should have been the one to step up sooner, so don't pin your mistakes on me."

He feigned innocence, and while there was a sliver of truth in his words, his motives were far from noble. Her well-being was never his concern; he relished in my pain and sought to keep us apart, all because of her father. He didn't trust me to discuss the events of that fateful night. He never voiced it, but I could sense it lurking beneath the surface.

I rolled my eyes, turning my gaze away from him. "Just spill it—why are you really here? I doubt it's to check on my well-being," I shot back, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm thrilled you asked," he said, giving my back a playful pat. "I need your help with something, and of course, I'll compensate you for your time." A mischievous smirk crept across his face.

I shouldn't have been surprised by his request; this is what he does. He thrived on the vulnerability of those who were struggling, knowing they were more likely to agree. But I had learned my lesson the hard way the first time around.

"No," I replied firmly, shaking my head without hesitation.

His face fell, disappointment etched across his features. "You haven't even heard me out yet. Trust me, it's a simple in-and-out job—thirty minutes, tops," he pressed, trying to sway me.

I shook my head once more, resolute. "I don't care. I've said no. I'm not that person anymore, and I won't assist you with anything ever again."

His gaze shifted to the small bag of drugs I held, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Are you really sure about that?" He leaned in, flicking the bag so it danced in the air. "Why not take a quick whiff? It might clear your mind before you refuse me again."

Fixing my gaze on him, I ripped open the bag and turned it upside down, letting its contents spill into the pond. "No. Now, go fuck yourself." I hurled the empty bag at him and rose to my feet. As I walked toward my bike, a thought nagged at me—would I feel a bullet pierce my back?

But silence is all that followed. Not a single word was uttered as I mounted my bike and rode away. Yet, I could sense their eyes boring into my back the entire time.

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The moment I stepped through the threshold of my home, I was met with an unexpected scene—a full-blown intervention. In the entryway stood Piett, my brother, Rex, Padme, Maul, and Savage, their expressions a mix of concern and determination.

"What the hell is going on?" I barked, slamming the door behind me. My brother advanced, closing the distance between us, and seized my face in his hands. He leaned in so close that I thought for a moment he might kiss me. I recoiled, my eyes wide with confusion. "What are you doing?"

He gripped my face firmly, his gaze piercing as he searched my eyes. "Are you high? Did you take something?" His voice was laced with urgency, as if he feared the worst.

I grasped his wrists, pushing him away—not with force, but enough to create some space between us. "No, I didn't take anything," I insisted, glancing past him at Piett, who was staring at the floor, avoiding my gaze. "Did you tell him?"

Piett looked up, about to respond, but it was another voice that cut through the tension.

"No, I did."

I froze, recognizing the voice immediately. My eyes darted to the staircase, where she stood with my little sister, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around us. "(y/n)?" The moment our eyes met, it felt as if time itself had halted.

"Piett came to my house in a panic, saying you ran off after claiming you were going to do drugs again, and that he was worried you might harm yourself. So, I came here and informed your brother." Her tone was flat, devoid of the warmth I once knew. She descended the stairs, leaving Ahsoka behind, and brushed past me toward the door. "I just wanted to make sure you were alive, but now I'll be leaving." She reached for the doorknob, and in a flash, I turned and grasped her wrist, stopping her from leaving.

"Please, wait! Don't leave," I implored in a hushed tone, my heart racing. "I'm so sorry. I'll do anything if you just stay and talk to me."

Without sparing me a glance, she yanked her arm free from my grasp, her voice icy as she declared, "None of you come to me again. I want no more involvement." With that, she stormed out, the door slamming shut with a finality that echoed in the silence.

From the upstairs, Ahsoka's voice trembled, "Is she really never coming back?"

That question shattered the fragile barrier I had erected to shield my friends from my vulnerability. I could see the pity in their eyes as I crumbled, burying my face in Obi-Wan's shoulder, sobs wracking my body. They were witnessing the depth of my feelings for her, the weight of my regret.

Obi-Wan held me tightly, whispering soothing words, "It's okay, it's going to be alright." His hand moved gently across my back, offering comfort.

"I messed up, Obi-Wan. I really messed up," I cried, my heart feeling as though it was being torn in two. The urge to chase after her was overwhelming, but I knew it would only lead to more pain—she might even run me over in her fury.

He let out a heavy sigh, "I know. She told me everything." He pulled back slightly, searching my tear-streaked face with concern.

"Are you disappointed in me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, a sad smile gracing his lips. "No, not at all," he reassured me, his thumb brushing away the tears that fell. "We all stumble; it's part of growing. But I need you to be honest with me now. Did you take any drugs?"

I quickly shook my head, "Almost, but no."

He exhaled in relief, "And are you smoking again?"

"Yes." All of my traitorous friends who still stood behind him, witnessing my mental break down, said simultaneously.

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, his hand diving into my pocket to retrieve my nearly empty pack of cigarettes and lighter. "These are going down the toilet after we get some food into you. I haven't seen you eat in days," he declared, his palm resting firmly on my back as he nudged me toward the kitchen.

I hastily wiped away the tears that had gathered beneath my eyes. "But I'm not hungry," I murmured, a tightness in my chest making my voice tremble.

He gave my back a reassuring pat. "I don't care. After you eat, we can talk about how to win her back."

I shook my head, the flicker of hope extinguished long ago. "That's impossible. She hates me."

"She showed up today, didn't she?" Padmé interjected, her voice cutting through the tension as the others filed into the kitchen behind us. "I'd bet anything that she still loves you."

"That's a rather cruel thing to say under the circumstances, Padmé," Maul replied, shaking his head disapprovingly.

She shrugged, unfazed. "Whatever. I'm just saying, as a woman, she might be open to forgiveness. You just need to prove to her that you're genuinely sorry, that you truly love her, and that you won't hurt her like that again."

"And how am I supposed to do that if she won't even look me in the eye?" I replied, my voice heavy with despair as I sank into a chair at the table, the others gathering around as if for a family meeting.

I scanned the faces around me, searching for answers, but silence reigned until my brother returned, a plate of food in hand. "You could try serenading her, like outside her window. That's so romantic," he suggested with a grin as he set the food before me. Ahsoka appeared at my side, her eyes fixated on the chips on my plate, prompting me to lift her onto my lap so we could share.

I scrunched my face in disbelief. "She wouldn't appreciate that, and her dad would probably shoot me for trespassing." I had no idea if he was aware of what had happened, but if he was, I was certain I'd be on his 'kill on sight' list.

Everyone nodded in agreement, the room echoing with the sound of Ahsoka's small hand thumping against my plate as she snatched my food. "Draw," she declared

I gazed down at her, curiosity etched on my face. "What did you say, Mama?"

Her blue eyes, mirroring my own, sparkled as she smiled, a grin dusted with remnants of cheese. "She was upstairs admiring your drawings. She really likes them, so you should share some with her."

I let out a weary sigh, shaking my head for what felt like the hundredth time. "I made her really sad, Mama. It's going to take more than that to—"

Before I could finish, Padme tapped her fingers on the table, drawing our attention. "I have an idea."

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