It always astonishes Obi-Wan how small Anakin can make himself.
He always seems like a giant, with his overwhelming Force presence, his intensity, the way he can make every eye turn to him. It helps that he's physically tall, and imposing, not quite the same as Qui-Gon, but similar. He has the long arms and legs, matched with the fluid grace of a Jedi, and he knows how to tilt his head and set his shoulders with the air of command.
And yet. He often sleeps curled up in what should be cramped spaces. He can slip into the corner of a room and no one will ever notice he's there. He can fold himself into all sorts of shapes to access parts of the Angel.
He's highly adaptable, though Obi-Wan has known that for a while.
So he's not too surprised when he's roused from a doze by a weight in his lap, and a curly golden-brown head settling on his chest.
They'd made their way back to the officer's lounge from debrief, and promptly collapsed. Anakin had scarfed down everything Rex insisted on bringing him, and then finished half of Obi-Wan’s food too. Cody and Rex had left them alone after that.
Obi-Wan smiles wearily down at Anakin, now curled on top of him like a loth-kit. He's heavier sure, but it's so reminiscent of the little boy who used come to him after nightmares, who pressed up against Obi-Wan for the reassurance of his presence, his beating heart.
If only war was just another bad dream.
Obi-Wan says nothing, just strokes his hand over the thickening curls, truly growing out now. There's dust and ash in there, little bits of debris Obi-Wan starts to comb out with his fingers.
A grunt followed by a sigh, escapes Anakin, and then he melts against Obi-Wan, not seeming to care about the hard edge of plasteel armour digging into his cheek.
Well, he will care soon enough, and Obi-Wan brings his other arm up, hands a little clumsy with exhaustion, and shifts Anakin’s head just enough to the side so that it rests on the fabric of Obi-Wan’s robes.
No response; Anakin is either asleep, or nearly gone.
Obi-Wan smooths his hand over the dirty hair again, then wraps his arm around the young man's shoulders, holding him firmly enough to keep him from falling to the floor if either of them moves suddenly.
Maybe he should sleep too.
Anakin drifts off into blessed quiet darkness to the sound of Obi-Wan’s lungs working, his master’s heart beating steadily. Life.
There is still life in the galaxy, he can do this.
When Rex comes in a few minutes later, he is surprised, but then only amused, to find the two generals sleeping together in one of the armchairs. And then he is a little sad, and he steps quietly back out. They should rest, he thinks. They need it.
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