i don't use tumblr to post at all, but i thought id start a small account just posting Hayden pics and reblogging fics etc!! (maybe some drabbles eventually 🤭)
my fave Hayden role is Scott Barringer and i swear we need more Scott fics because i never see enough (and plus, he's such a cutie)
my fave Hayden film in general is either AOTC or vanishing on 7th street (again, i film i don't see people talk about which honestly baffles me because i think its amazing!)
i have a fan account on TikTok- if anyone can find it ill be incredibly impressed lolol
my dad actually met Hayden in his 2003/4 ROTS era so I'm super jealous 😔
I've watched every single film of Hayden's except trapped in a purple haze because it isn't available on illegal sites 😔 (don't come for me pls i cant watch them on anything else)
side note- i have loads of fic recommendations and AU Anakin ideas so ask and ill share some! x (i also have like every single Hayden/Anakin role and AU bot on c.ai- again if you want one just ask x)
random stuff- i listen to like every single genre of music and its hard to find something i don't like! my current fave artists are Sade, Madison beer (who i saw in concert recently yay!) and TV girl (but i love metal and rock and literally everything). My all time fave film is The Virgin Suicides- don't even get me started on it because i will talk forever and ever about it (not to mention Hayden is in it!!).
anyway, that's all for now! if you read this all, i love you mwah ⋆୨♡୧⋆
We like to think that pretty privilege just gets people a few perks — a little extra attention, a break here and there. But the truth is far more sinister. When we hand that privilege out blindly, without questioning who someone really is, we risk empowering people who might be far worse than we imagine.
Hayden Christensen. The calm, polite, “quiet farm guy.” The actor with no social media, no public stance on anything controversial. The “sweet” celebrity with a carefully crafted image. But what if that’s all a mask?
He spent nearly 11 years with Rachel Bilson, a woman whose racist actions and words are disgusting and public. Singing the n-word to their own child is not just a slip-up. It’s hatred and indoctrination. And Hayden stayed silent. Not a single public word condemning it. Not a hint of discomfort or distancing himself. That silence is not neutrality. It’s not ignorance. It’s a terrifying form of complicity or worse, agreement.
But don’t stop there! Hayden’s silence goes beyond Rachel. He refuses to speak out about anything — even major global atrocities and clear human rights abuses happening right now. Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he’s selfish. Or maybe he supports the violence, the oppression, the hatred behind closed doors. Silence is the weapon of the complicit. A truly good person would never choose silence in the face of such evil. They would scream, fight, make their stance known.
And what if Hayden’s calm, peaceful public persona is the ultimate lie? What if underneath that pretty face is someone dangerous? Someone who hides real hate or cruelty behind a mask of charm and politeness? Actors are masters of deception — it’s their job to perform. But what if this performance extends to his entire public life? What if everything we see is carefully scripted, hiding a darkness that no one suspects?
You might say, “But he has Black and Indian friends. He’s been to Indian parties. He drives around with his Black friend.” That doesn’t erase the possibility that he holds racist views or tolerates racism. People compartmentalize. They can love some individuals while still believing in or enabling systemic racism. And remember — he is still a white man benefiting from centuries of racial oppression.
This is not just about racism. What if he quietly supports other horrors? The kind of horrors that go unnoticed because no one asks, and he refuses to speak? What if his silence hides support for cruelty, injustice, or even violence that’s happening on a global scale? Silence is never neutral. It’s either cowardice or consent.
The scariest part? We don’t know. We cannot know. And that uncertainty is what makes it terrifying. He could be the person who smiles for the cameras while supporting things that destroy lives, freedom, and justice.
If we keep giving him the benefit of the doubt, if we keep loving the image and ignoring the silence — we are letting someone dangerous thrive. We are protecting darkness behind a pretty face.
So ask yourself: Do you want to be part of that? Supporting someone who refuses to stand up against hatred, who stays silent while someone close to him commits racism, who could be hiding evil behind a charming mask? Because if you do, you’re not just being gullible. You’re enabling something far scarier than you ever imagined.
I know some white girls will rush to defend him, but that just proves my point. Even if you say you’re not racist, there’s still a hint of white supremacy. You’ll never truly get what it means to be oppressed — it’s easy to dismiss racism when you’re the one benefiting from it.
I made it to spread awareness, I was also a huge Hayden fan but things like this just don’t sit right and no one talks about it. Being a fan is also holding your idol accountable
You didn’t have to write it like some newspaper article trying to make Hayden seem like the worst man on the planet.
Also how can you ‘spread awareness’ if you don’t know any of it’s true? Hayden’s said multiple times that he’s a recluse and hates the paparazzi and cameras and stuff, I’m sure he wouldn’t want to make himself even more the centre of attention by outwardly talking about his social, political and racial views, aswell as dishing dirt on his baby mama
We like to think that pretty privilege just gets people a few perks — a little extra attention, a break here and there. But the truth is far more sinister. When we hand that privilege out blindly, without questioning who someone really is, we risk empowering people who might be far worse than we imagine.
Hayden Christensen. The calm, polite, “quiet farm guy.” The actor with no social media, no public stance on anything controversial. The “sweet” celebrity with a carefully crafted image. But what if that’s all a mask?
He spent nearly 11 years with Rachel Bilson, a woman whose racist actions and words are disgusting and public. Singing the n-word to their own child is not just a slip-up. It’s hatred and indoctrination. And Hayden stayed silent. Not a single public word condemning it. Not a hint of discomfort or distancing himself. That silence is not neutrality. It’s not ignorance. It’s a terrifying form of complicity or worse, agreement.
But don’t stop there! Hayden’s silence goes beyond Rachel. He refuses to speak out about anything — even major global atrocities and clear human rights abuses happening right now. Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he’s selfish. Or maybe he supports the violence, the oppression, the hatred behind closed doors. Silence is the weapon of the complicit. A truly good person would never choose silence in the face of such evil. They would scream, fight, make their stance known.
And what if Hayden’s calm, peaceful public persona is the ultimate lie? What if underneath that pretty face is someone dangerous? Someone who hides real hate or cruelty behind a mask of charm and politeness? Actors are masters of deception — it’s their job to perform. But what if this performance extends to his entire public life? What if everything we see is carefully scripted, hiding a darkness that no one suspects?
You might say, “But he has Black and Indian friends. He’s been to Indian parties. He drives around with his Black friend.” That doesn’t erase the possibility that he holds racist views or tolerates racism. People compartmentalize. They can love some individuals while still believing in or enabling systemic racism. And remember — he is still a white man benefiting from centuries of racial oppression.
This is not just about racism. What if he quietly supports other horrors? The kind of horrors that go unnoticed because no one asks, and he refuses to speak? What if his silence hides support for cruelty, injustice, or even violence that’s happening on a global scale? Silence is never neutral. It’s either cowardice or consent.
The scariest part? We don’t know. We cannot know. And that uncertainty is what makes it terrifying. He could be the person who smiles for the cameras while supporting things that destroy lives, freedom, and justice.
If we keep giving him the benefit of the doubt, if we keep loving the image and ignoring the silence — we are letting someone dangerous thrive. We are protecting darkness behind a pretty face.
So ask yourself: Do you want to be part of that? Supporting someone who refuses to stand up against hatred, who stays silent while someone close to him commits racism, who could be hiding evil behind a charming mask? Because if you do, you’re not just being gullible. You’re enabling something far scarier than you ever imagined.
I know some white girls will rush to defend him, but that just proves my point. Even if you say you’re not racist, there’s still a hint of white supremacy. You’ll never truly get what it means to be oppressed — it’s easy to dismiss racism when you’re the one benefiting from it.
We like to think that pretty privilege just gets people a few perks — a little extra attention, a break here and there. But the truth is far more sinister. When we hand that privilege out blindly, without questioning who someone really is, we risk empowering people who might be far worse than we imagine.
Hayden Christensen. The calm, polite, “quiet farm guy.” The actor with no social media, no public stance on anything controversial. The “sweet” celebrity with a carefully crafted image. But what if that’s all a mask?
He spent nearly 11 years with Rachel Bilson, a woman whose racist actions and words are disgusting and public. Singing the n-word to their own child is not just a slip-up. It’s hatred and indoctrination. And Hayden stayed silent. Not a single public word condemning it. Not a hint of discomfort or distancing himself. That silence is not neutrality. It’s not ignorance. It’s a terrifying form of complicity or worse, agreement.
But don’t stop there! Hayden’s silence goes beyond Rachel. He refuses to speak out about anything — even major global atrocities and clear human rights abuses happening right now. Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he’s selfish. Or maybe he supports the violence, the oppression, the hatred behind closed doors. Silence is the weapon of the complicit. A truly good person would never choose silence in the face of such evil. They would scream, fight, make their stance known.
And what if Hayden’s calm, peaceful public persona is the ultimate lie? What if underneath that pretty face is someone dangerous? Someone who hides real hate or cruelty behind a mask of charm and politeness? Actors are masters of deception — it’s their job to perform. But what if this performance extends to his entire public life? What if everything we see is carefully scripted, hiding a darkness that no one suspects?
You might say, “But he has Black and Indian friends. He’s been to Indian parties. He drives around with his Black friend.” That doesn’t erase the possibility that he holds racist views or tolerates racism. People compartmentalize. They can love some individuals while still believing in or enabling systemic racism. And remember — he is still a white man benefiting from centuries of racial oppression.
This is not just about racism. What if he quietly supports other horrors? The kind of horrors that go unnoticed because no one asks, and he refuses to speak? What if his silence hides support for cruelty, injustice, or even violence that’s happening on a global scale? Silence is never neutral. It’s either cowardice or consent.
The scariest part? We don’t know. We cannot know. And that uncertainty is what makes it terrifying. He could be the person who smiles for the cameras while supporting things that destroy lives, freedom, and justice.
If we keep giving him the benefit of the doubt, if we keep loving the image and ignoring the silence — we are letting someone dangerous thrive. We are protecting darkness behind a pretty face.
So ask yourself: Do you want to be part of that? Supporting someone who refuses to stand up against hatred, who stays silent while someone close to him commits racism, who could be hiding evil behind a charming mask? Because if you do, you’re not just being gullible. You’re enabling something far scarier than you ever imagined.
I know some white girls will rush to defend him, but that just proves my point. Even if you say you’re not racist, there’s still a hint of white supremacy. You’ll never truly get what it means to be oppressed — it’s easy to dismiss racism when you’re the one benefiting from it.
Y’all on my TikTok fyp I have been seeing some Hayden slander about why he and his ex broke up, the cheating was rumors and has been confirmed to be rumors. Another thing that was said was he is introverted which I can agree with he definitely is but I would be too if my dream was to be an actor and I got my dream role to play in starwars and then everyone at the time shit on me for it, I would have anxiety and rather stick to myself too.
People have said in the comments of some tiktoks I’ve come across that Hayden forced his ex who I extroverted to go to events and carpets by herself, I don’t believe he forced her to she wanted to go so she went without him but wanted him there. I feel like his ex didn’t understand Hayden and his anxiety and me being someone who struggles with anxiety when you’re in a relationship with someone who does not help you move past it and only amplifies if makes it 10x worse.
The rumors he smells terrible and has bad hygiene I know Jake G and him has a project together early on in both their careers and Hayden played a character who was gross in that sense and Jake G said he on set smelled bad, Hayden is a method actor and was trying to fit in the role he was playing. I’ve never met the man ( yet 😉) so what do I know.
Also his ex speaking about not having an orgasm during sex until later in life (after her and Hayden broke up.) I don’t think she was hinting he was bad I think she was speaking in general about no one in particular and that it was the birth control that she had been on, I did my own research and found that lots of women have this issue with various birth controls. His ex on the same podcast EP then said Bill Hader was the first man to give her an orgasm in sex and she missed his big dick. I for one feel like if she spoke about Hayden that way he would appreciate it and for someone her age with a child imo shows immaturity.
I’m just really tired of the slander this man faces due to his relationship with an ex and they have been broken up since 2017 why do we still talk about it? It sucks it didn’t work out for probably more reasons than “He is introverted.” Surely they both made mistakes and decided it’s best not to be together. But the narrative is Hayden didnt this, Hayden did that, Hayden blah blah blah. This man has faced enough criticism let’s not add more too it especially when no one has the full story and most likely never will since it’s no ones business and has been YEARS since it happened.
Thank you for coming to and yap/rant, on a positive note share your experience on meeting Hayden if you have one and if you’re seeing him soon tell me what you’re most excited about.
Reader walking in on sam giving vinnie his own little blue streak in his hair because he wanted to match with Sam 🤭🤍
PAIRING: sam monroe x f!reader
FLUFF ❦
You were only in the kitchen for like—what, five minutes? Five. Tops. Yet it was enough for the house to go suspiciously quiet, which meant one thing and one thing only: SAM MONROE was doing something illegal in the emotional sense. A sigh left your parted lips. As much as you were used to that (especially ever since vinnie was born) a sense of worry crawled up your spine. So you put the cup you were holding and you padded back towards the hallway that easily led to the rest rooms in your apartment. All of your instincts already went fully motherly-mode activated when you noticed the bathroom light glowing under the door and the giggle that came afterwards. The soft, raspy squeal of your 20-month-old son being just a little too proud of himself.
You pushed the door open slowly.
“Sam, what are you—” there it was. Or rather there he was. Vinnie was sitting on the closed toilet seat lid with a towel wrapped around his tiny shoulders like a cape, grinning from ear to ear as Sam crouched in front of him with a gloved hand and a little dye brush dipped in blue—the exact shade Sam had been putting in his own hair for the last week to refresh the fading color.
“Samuel Monroe.”
Sam shoulders stiffened at the sound of your voice. Slowly, he turned around, guilty as hell, yet the tiniest smirk pulling at his lips. “Before you freak out, it’s temporary. Washes out in like two showers. It’s just for fun.”
You crossed your arms. “He’s not even two.”
“He asked for it!” Sam said, pointing at the innocent baby, who proudly nodded like that somehow helped his case. “He saw mine, touched his head, and went, ‘Me too! Sam hair!’ And what was I supposed to do? Say no to that face?”
Vinnie giggled and slapped his chubby hand over his blue hair, eyes sparkling. “I ma'ch Sam!!”
Sam stood up slowly, peeling the glove off, and throwing it dramatically into the sink. “C’mon. Look at him. He looks sick as hell.”
You tried so hard not to melt. But your heart was already pudding, a slight sense of angry feeling vanishing away under the cuteness overload. Vinnie looked up at you and did this proud little head tilt, like show it off, mama, look!!, and the way he babbled, “I cool now, mama,” was enough to make you sit down on the floor in emotional defeat.
“…Fine,” you whispered, dragging a hand down your face. “But when he wants a sleeve tattoo to match you next week, you’re explaining it to my mother.”
And Vinnie just beamed, patting Sam’s face and going, “we best fwiends Thammy"
This is funny but also I got so mad watching that video because why did they keep pushing him like he had to tell them that he needed to leave…I think that’s awful
me when I wanna say something so bad very very very bad about the twitter hayden christensen fans but they're genuinely so fucking insane they might dox me or something 😟 they're so embarrassing someone lock em up
It's ridiculous, paying to see the fav and everything you can give him. Chooses to give a Twitter bullshit to a 44-year-old man who doesn't use social networks. My God, it's pathetic
This group is pathetic, I would be ashamed of myself for having this kind of behavior
Truly. I believe if it was an actual threat or anything. Hayden truly would already know by now, but it’s not. Hayden also is too kind to do anything about it. He’s had people show up before and literally made them breakfast at his house. He actually I think it was last year had a girl sa him during pictures which he didn’t even press charges which to me is a way bigger issue than just being a diehard fan whose words got twisted. It truly sickening. Plus truly why would you pay all that money to give him that?
You should know the full context and story before throwing someone under.
THIS. Hayden is way too sweet of a person and if he was aware of these things happening, he would one, not be obligated to put himself in the middle of it because his involvement would only make it worse, and two, be absolutely disgusted at how his "fans" are behaving. The SA was what really did it for me. I can't stand being a fan of his sometimes, especially recently, because I'm being grouped in with the borderline insane ones. It's so fucking embarrassing. People waking up so miserable each day that they have to log onto the world wide web to harass people that they know nothing about. Misery truly loves company because holy shit.
Plus, I believe that he needs to take a break from conventions. It's really unfortunate for him to receive love from his fans and for the fans that want to show him love. I want to meet Hayden one day, yeah, but his safety is more important.
Part Twenty Two: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, [All possible tags listed, all may not apply] GORE, MURDER, ANIMAL CRUELTY, ANIMAL DEATH
Info: ✨breaking and entering✨ boy things ✨[diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread, MDNI 18+
The office you sat in looked more like a living room out of a catalog than a workplace. The couch beneath you was comfy and large enough for you and Anakin both to sit, with plenty of room left over. Although he wouldn’t allow it, always insisting you stay tucked against his side. Not that you minded very much.
“Woods Edge,” Amy, the realtor that Luke had gotten ahold of for you repeated after Anakin. “That’s a higher price range than what we discussed over the phone this morning.”
”I know… I was doing a little independent looking.” He said with a friendly smile, tossing his arm over your shoulder. “I saw some pictures of the area online and I just really liked the view, seemed like a nice place.”
”It *is* a nice place, that’s why the price tag has a few added zeros.” Amy gave a lighthearted laugh.
“We really just wanted to take a look, a few different subdivisions, homes a bit farther out from the city. We aren’t totally set on anything. Just looking for ideas.” You piped up, reaching your hand across your body to take Anakin’s hand in yours, squeezing it hard to let him know you were taking over the conversation.
“The sooner we can get a look at-“ Anakin started, completely ignoring the rough squeeze of your hand, to him it just felt like the grip of scared child.
”I think we should go look at the little single level, two bedroom place. The second one you showed us.” You cut in, leaning forward and patting the back of Anakin’s hand as if to say ‘too bad’.
”Sure, its vacant at the moment.” Amy said, turning back to her computer to look up the address and specs, filling you in on what little detail there was in the listing. “There aren’t any showings scheduled and I have my afternoon blocked off for the two of you, so…”
After coming up with a tentative itinerary for the next few hours, you walked out of the building feeling excited to house hunt. There were many things you were looking forward to, seeing the different options was your main goal of course. Though it didn’t hurt to have a few other curiosities as well. It was going to be so entertaining for someone as easily distracted as you.
Thinking of all the random bits and bobbles hiding out in these strangers homes for you to judge and/or admire, was almost more exciting than the prospect of finding your new family home.
”We have twenty minutes before we’re supposed to meet her at the-“ The air blew out of your lungs from the force of Anakin’s forearm against your chest, pressing your back against the cold metal exterior of your vehicle.
“What the hell was that in there?” He asked angrily, yanking open the back passenger door to shove you inside. “You can’t just interrupt me like that.”
“I told you I wanted some real input on our decisions!” You snapped back, landing on the backseat cushions with a bounce that send you further back into the car.
“And I told you to let me handle this meeting!” He barked, climbing in after you and slamming the car door behind him. “You… you ruined it.”
“Ruined what?” You scoffed, pushing against his shoulders, hands on either side of his neck as he started to encompass your personal space.
“Remember when I told you to stop asking fucking questions and shut your goddamnn mouth?” He snarled, grabbing your face and jostling your roughly. Anger blazed in his eyes, the pupils usually so dilated just from being in your presence, were no bigger than the tip of a pin.
“This is one of those times you shut the fuck up and listen to me!” He yelled, shoving your head back until you heard a resounding *thunk*. The back of your skull hitting the ledge of the car door behind you.
“Ow!” You shrieked, cupping the back of your head as Anakin quickly released you and sat back on his haunches, blinking down at you like he had no idea what had just happened.
“What’s your problem?” You sniffled, sitting up and squeezing your eyes shut, breathing through your teeth as you rubbed the back of your head with the heel of your palm.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” He said quietly, not sounding like himself in the slightest. “‘C’mere. Let me look at it.”
You glared at him, giving him a long, uninterrupted stare-down before finally agreeing to let him check the tender, warm to the touch pump-knot forming. His fingers parted your hair, gently brushing through it before he separated the strands into two sections. Placing one over your right shoulder, while holding the other, smaller section loosely as he kissed the nape of your neck: a silent apology.
“It looks okay,” He said, feeling small and shitty about the way he’d acted. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“What did I ruin?” You asked, lowering your head, thankful he couldn’t see your face.
“Let’s just forget about that.” He sighed, pulling you toward him, arms around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder.
“It’s silly anyway, certainly not worth hurting you over.” He said softly, his breath warm against your neck as he nuzzled into you.
“Are you going to get in trouble because I’ve gotten in your way?” Your throat constricted at the thought. What an awful girlfriend. You’re going to be the reason Anakin goes to prison. All because you just had to question him.
He was quiet for a long moment, almost like he was waiting for you to speak again, maybe outright confront him. Or perhaps he was just too shocked to respond in a timely manner.
“No.” He shook his head, kissing the nape of your neck once more before awkwardly shifting his long limbs to crawl over the car console into the driver’s seat, gesturing for you to do the same.
“Actually, I think-“ He sighed, scratching his neck, turning his head away to avoid looking at you now that you were in the front beside him, buckling up in a heavy silence.
“It’s probably for the best.” He cleared his throat, starting the car and backing out of the parking space to head to the home you were scheduled to look at first.
“So it’s… a thing… at Woods Edge?” You asked, looking out the passenger windows as the buildings blurred past.
“Sweetheart.” He sighed, hesitantly laying his hand on your thigh. His calloused hand warm enough to transfer its heat through the denim of your jeans. “I don’t want you to worry. Everything is fine. There is no ‘thing’ at Woods Edge.”
”But there will be?” You asked, picking at the sides of your fingers nervously.
”No.” He huffed, reaching up to grab your wrist to separate your hands, not wanting you to mar up your skin.
”Did you… were you *hoping* for it?” You asked quietly, tapping your fingertip repeatedly against his hand.
”Jesus, can we not do this?” He asked tiredly. His left leg starting to bob up and down at the knee, like he was getting antsy at the red light he’d just pulled up to.
“What are you fishing for? What answer are you trying to get?” He growled in annoyance. It was clear that he really didn’t want to continue this conversation.
“Anakin, I just- I’m not trying to ‘fish’ for anything.” You snapped at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I just want to be included!”
He froze, his face immediately morphing into a drawn and pale expression that showed just how unexpected your statement was. Or perhaps just how utterly unprepared he was to respond to such a bold declaration.
“W-wait, no that’s not…” You said quickly, holding out both hands as you twisted in your seat to turn toward him. “I don’t mean it like that.”
”Then what the hell do you mean?” He yelled, throwing open the center console to dig around for his lighter, needing a cigarette to calm his nerves.
“No, you were right.” You started to backtrack, staring out the front windshield to avoid the icy look he threw your way. “We shouldn’t be doing this now. We’re supposed to be house hunting.”
”No, ma’am, we shouldn’t. But you opened your mouth so…” He said sharply, gesturing at you like he was prompting you to keep talking. “So? Couldn’t shut your damn mouth before, open it back up and spit it out.”
”Ani, I just want you to stop being so… secret-y.” You let the words fall out of your mouth.
“Secret-y?” He scoffed, running his hand through his hair as he blew out a puff of smoke, cracking his window open. “You think I *like* hiding things from you?”
“Yes.” You said before you even had a chance to process the word forming on your tongue.
”Are you fuckin’ serious?” He squeaked, genuinely so surprised by your rapid fire answer that he dropped his cigarette from his lips, allowing it to fall into his lap.
“Shit! Fuck-“ He yelped, trying to focus on driving while also retrieving the cigarette before it burnt a hole in his jeans.
You reached over in a flash, pinching the filter between your fingers and plucking it up from his lap, holding it back out to him. The cherry had fallen out and charred a black spot onto the car upholstery between his thighs. He cursed under his breath and swiped at the ashes to fling them out on to floor mat beneath him.
”Thanks.” He mumbled, snatching it from between your fingers to relight it and finish smoking it in silence, presumably trying to pre-plan his next words to you.
“So you… do you really think I like hiding things from you?” He asked in a horribly hurt, tiny voice.
”N-not intentionally.” You sighed, reaching over to put your hand on his knee to comfort him. “I just think maybe you sometimes don’t tell me things because you’re like, scared or worried. I feel like you keep things from me because you think its best for me, but it’s not.”
”And why not?” He asked, his jaw line sharpening as he clenched his teeth tightly. “How do you know what’s best for you? You suck at being an adult.” He mumbled under his breath.
”Anakin!” You gasped, pulling your hand away from his knee as his words registered. “That is completely unfair. If anyone here sucks at being an adult it’s you.” You shot back.
”Excuse me?” He huffed, so distracted by the increasingly heated conversation to pay attention, not using a turn signal when pulling onto a side road, causing the car behind you to honk.
“Oh shut the fuck up!” Anakin growled over his shoulder as if the driver could hear him, throwing up a middle finger for good measure.
“I might have some issues but at least I can keep my shit together.” Anakin barked. “I don’t get wasted anytime I have a minor problem!”
”That’s only ever happened once and you know it!” You yelled back, your foot stomping down on the floor mat. “It’s your fault anyway!”
”MY fault?” He scoffed, smacking the steering wheel in anger, making the car swerve.
”Be careful!” You squealed, your hand reaching out to steady the steering wheel but not quite reaching it. It was more of a warning that if it happened again, you would be grabbing the wheel to correct his mistake.
”Don’t tell me how to fucking drive, its fine.” He grumbled, forcing himself to take a deep breath to calm his nerves. As much as he hated to admit it, you were right, he shouldn’t be so careless especially with you in the car with him.
“Look, w-we’re almost to this place. Don’t… just don’t.” Giving you a warning glance. “Chill out before we get there.”
“Whatever.” You muttered, crossing your arms, lips stuck in an irritated frown. You spent the last few moments in the vehicle in complete, utter, discomforting silence before finally arriving at the house you were scheduled to see.
“C’mon.” Anakin murmured, opening your car door for you, offering you his hand, but you declined, jerking your head in the opposite direction, purposefully making it as obvious as possible that you didn’t want his help.
“Stop being a bitch.” He spat out between his teeth as he flashed a smile at the realtor who was standing on the front porch, unlocking this stranger’s front door.
“You stop being a bitch.” You mumbled, walking in front of him at a quick pace. At this point you just wanted to get the day over with and go home. Sit on the opposite side of the hall from Anakin. You needed some space before you ended up ripping all your hair out.
“You didn’t like any of the places we saw today?” Anakin asked in an exhausted tone, pulling into the parking lot of your apartment building.
“No I didn’t.” You huffed, rolling your eyes when Anakin muttered something about how this was a waste of time.
”What didn’t you like?” He asked, trying to be more understanding as you both made your way to the entrance to the building.
“Your attitude.” You said in a snippy voice.
”Jesus Christ!” He growled, tossing up his hands to run through his hair. “I’m genuinely asking you!”
”I’m genuinely telling you.” You bobbed your head as you spoke, sassy and annoying in a way that made Anakin want to plant his fist in the drywall.
“What are you doing?” He asked, sighing and rubbing his face while he watched you open your apartment door and walk inside, turn and stand in the doorway.
”I don’t want you in here right now.” You said quietly, refusing to look up at him.
”What the fuck? Why?” He asked, truly sounding a little panicked.
“I don’t want to argue anymore. I’m tired.” You answered simply, attempting to close the door.
”Then we won’t argue, I swear. We can just have a quiet night.” He quickly grabbed the door in a crushing grip, shoving his foot against the doorframe to keep you from shutting him out.
”No!” You frustratedly pulled on the doorknob, catching his foot and making him suck in a breath through his teeth, his hand forming a fist to pound on the wall with the side of his hand.
“Fuck!” He growled, done playing nice with you now that you’d actually hurt him. He ripped the door open so hard that it pulled you forward, unable to let go of the doorknob fast enough, so you fell into his chest.
Anakin grunted at the impact, but stood firmly, refusing to move unless it was forward. He crushed you against his chest with his left arm braced against your back, your arms trapped against him as his right hand grabbed the crook of your knee to lift you up, stomping into the apartment and kicking the door shut behind you both.
”Put me down!” You squealed, wriggling and kicking to try and squirm out of his grip. “Anakin! I said put me down!”
”Shut the fuck up!” He shouted in your ear, tossing you down on the couch so hard you sank down into the cushion and felt the hard metal frame against your thighs. “Now you’re gonna sit there and you’re gonna fucking listen to me, got it?” He snarled, grabbing your face in one large hand, calloused fingertips biting into the flesh.
”I’ve had enough of this back and forth. You understand me?” He growled, releasing your face and turning on his heel to put his hands in his hair, breathing out as he puffed up his cheeks.
“You wanna talk for real? Let’s talk for real.” He shoved his hands down in his front pockets, shrugging his shoulders and rolling his neck like he was trying to relieve the tension in his muscles. “I mean it. Okay? I mean it. I’m- I can’t… I won’t. A-ask me whatever. I’ll tell you. All of it if you want.”
You sat there, feeling bile rising up the back of your throat. Your skin crawled at the thought of hearing ‘all of it’. All? Everything? You weren’t sure you wanted to- no. You knew you couldn’t handle it. Not all at once. He’d said it with so much weight that you could physically see how much he was carrying inside him. The guilt poured out of his blue eyes, giving you a glimpse into that hidden pit in his mind that he’d tried so hard to hide from you and from himself.
“Well?” He swallowed thickly, looking almost desperate to hear you ask the first question.
“Why did you lie to me for so long?” You asked, feeling your throat constricting, tightening up as if your own body was trying to stop you from asking.
”Really?” He scoffed, almost surprised that was your first inquiry, he was almost certain you’d jump straight into the juicy bits.
”Alright.” Anakin pursed his lips, scratching the sharp edge of his jaw. “Put yourself in my shoes.” He gestured to his chest with both hands, fingertips hitting the space between his pectorals. He was hoping by sharing more than you asked for with each question, it’d be over faster.
“Imagine how painful a bowling ball would be if it fell off the counter, right onto your stomach.” He threw out his right arm at the kitchen countertop. “Fucking bust your damn guts, if it was heavy enough, right?”
”I guess it probably would but-“ You furrowed your brows, unsure what this had to do with your question.
”Yeah, but if you put it in one of those ugly leather bags, it won’t roll off, right?” Anakin asked rhetorically, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he started to pace the living room. “So now, forget that you know what’s inside that bag. You don’t know what’s in there, it could be something dangerous. You don’t know, cause you can’t see it.”
”I didn’t want to hurt you, scare you, worry you. It was safer and more manageable to conceal myself from you, let you unzip the bag. Y’know cause you can see the bowling bowl inside, know what’s in there without taking it out.” Anakin looked down at his hands, mimicking the action of picking something up.
“Even though you know it’s a bowling ball, you can’t tell how heavy it is until you pick it up.” He said, holding out the imaginary bowling ball. “Does that make sense?”
”Okay, so you’re saying that… Ghost is the bag? Cause of the mask?” You muttered, having a hard time solidifying the metaphor in reality.
“No, its the opposite.” He shook his head, giving you an almost proud smile, like he was relieved that you’d finally said it aloud, you hadn’t made him do it. Although his eyes drooped in a way that conveyed a deep self loathing.
It was clear that despite his relief, he despised the fact he’d been weak and deluded enough to believe he had split himself in two all for *your* benefit in the beginning. In reality, everything he’d done was all for him. And once again, he was too weak and deluded to fully admit that fact to himself. If he were to accept that as truth, his entire purpose for enduring life thus far, would be flushed down the toilet of oblivion.
”Or maybe you’re right, it wouldn’t be the first time you saw through me in a way I didn’t expect.” A smile of chagrin etched into his nervously chewed lips.
“The way I see it though, is… well, it’s like this.” He sighed, kneeling down in front of you to take both your hands in his. “The bag is the Anakin you met. The surface layer of me.”
”I took the bowling ball out of the bag and I set it on the counter on one of those… those cup things that keep them from rolling around.” He jerked his head to the side in the direction of the kitchenette.
”You’ve been carrying around an empty bag. You didn’t know it was empty, since you couldn’t see inside. But it was a nice bag, maybe a little beat up looking but it was pretty solid. No holes. Right?” He said, a flat affect blanketing his face like he didn’t want you to know how he really felt while talking about this.
“So meanwhile, that big bowling ball was on the counter the whole time. It didn’t… feel safe, without it’s bag and the person who held it.” He paused, eyes going out of focus as he stared just a hair to the left of your face.
“Every so often, something would bump into it. Knock it off the stand.” He said, his brows pinched together as one hand hovered palm down, sliding through the air in a slow line. “Takes a tiny push and it’ll roll until it falls off the edge of the counter and squishes someone.”
“It’s not like it’s… inherently dangerous. But in the right conditions it could be a fatal weapon.” Anakin said, swiftly dropping his hand to hit the floor using the side of his fist to make a thumping sound. “And you know, it’s round so it can’t really control whether it keeps rolling or if it stops. The environment decides its mobility.”
“So even if it…” He paused, standing up suddenly and turning around so he could curse himself for not realizing he was crying until he saw the empathy in your eyes as you gazed at him.
“Even if it *wanted* to stop, it can’t.” Anakin said, one arm across his chest with his hand supporting his elbow while he rubbed at his eyes with his forefinger and thumb.
“Anakin, come sit with me.” Watching him so clearly struggled with himself was heartbreaking if not a little unsettling. He was crying with an entirely neutral face, eyes devoid of any depth, like a failure of a portrait.
“I get what you’re saying.” You nodded as he made his way to the couch reluctantly. “So here’s what we’re going to do, okay?” You said in an almost motherly tone.
“Put it back in the bag okay?” You said, eyebrows raised expectantly as you waiting for him to nod. “Good, we put it back in the bag and we leave it unzipped.”
“Really?” Anakin asked, his bottom lip wobbling while his mouth downturned into a shaky frown. “You mean it?” He sucked in a choked breath to hold, his eyes growing redder by the second as hot tears freely slipped from his lashes.
“Mhm.” You gave him a small smile. Only growing wider when he lunged at you for a crushing squeeze around your waist, his face buried in the softness of your belly.
“You won’t be scared?” He asked, his shoulders shaking like an his emotions were causing an internal earthquake.
“Do I look scared?” You asked, a hint of a smirk on your face as you gently pet his hair in a calming pattern.
“I’m afraid to look.” He muttered, using the hem of your tshirt to roughly wipe at his nose like a child.
“Well, I don’t.” You said quietly, tugging on the large red and black plug in his left ear. “I’m not scared of you. I don’t think I ever really was. I think I *wanted* to be scared.”
“Yeah?” Anakin sniffled, seemingly calming down now that he was able to touch you and know that you were really there, saying these insanely unbelievable things. “Cause if I scare you, for real, I’ll do what I can to-“
“Ani.” You sighed, twirling one of the longer curls at the back of his neck around your forefinger. “No. I don’t want you to be half a person.”
“Baby.” His voice cracked in a devastating way, conveying just how much he needed to hear that from you.
“I’m serious.” You said, bouncing your knee to get his attention, making him look up at you with his red splotchy cheeks and beautiful watery blue eyes. “No more of that. And I want to know things. Okay?”
“It’s not like I schedule it.” Anakin huffed, rolling his eyes at you even as his lips turned up in the corners by a tiny little fraction.
“How does that… ? How?” Biting your lip as you gazed down at him, knuckles gently stroking his cheek. You didn’t know how to ask for the answers you needed.
“You.” Anakin said plainly and clearly. So unbothered and so certain that it took you a second to really absorb what that meant.
Everyone he’d killed since you’d met Ghost. Every person. Each human. Died.
Because of you.
Floundering in shock, you opened your mouth with wide eyes. Slowly relaxing those muscles until your mouth closed again and the muscles pulled themselves down into deep contemplation. Unable to comprehend exactly what about you warranted all that violence. You didn’t even know how many people… just the confirmed. The ones he absolutely couldn’t deny. Frat boys. Record shop guy.
“Before?” Your voice tiny, meek and kind of shaky. Almost amusing to Anakin, but he didn’t show it outwardly.
“Two.” He said with a nod, flipping his top lip up to fiddle with his septum ring while he waited for you to react with what he expected to be horror.
“Actually-“ His hand shot up, his fingers splayed as he mumbled names under his breath.* “three. Sorry. Forgot.”
Forgot. He forgot? How do you just forget people like that? People he’s seen the life drain out of, people with families that he destroyed. The air felt colder as it rushed through your lungs, the chill seeping into your gut.
“Do animals count?” He asked, tilting his head back to frown up at you.
“Anim- Animals?” You stuttered, not expecting that. He’d always been so sweet to your cat… should you have been concerned this whole time? Didn’t you hear in a true crime special that seri… serial killers. Serial killer. That’s what he was. You’d said it before, now it’s real. So very real.
“Probably don’t wanna hear that.” He murmured, backtracking awkwardly when he realized you’d gotten uncomfortable.
“N-no, don’t.” Shaking your head quickly as you chewed the inside of your cheek. You really didn’t want to know. Truly you didn’t. But if this was going to work, there couldn’t be anymore secrets. “Tell me. I need to understand.”
“Sweetheart, there’s some things you can’t unhear.” He whispered, his calloused hand rising up to brush your hair away from your shoulder. His thumb caressing your throat while the weight and warmth of his palm rested against the side of your neck.
“I know that!” Scowling down at him before taking a breath and saying it again with less venom.
“Lots.” He mumbled, eye brows raised and pinched together in concern. “Like… I can’t count. I don’t remember.”
“What about the ones you do remember?” You swallowed, deciding that this needed to be a conversation that your eyes were closed for. You could pretend these words weren’t really coming from him. “Bertie?”
“No way, I loved Bertie.” He shook his head, voice squeaking in a panic like he was surprised you’d even suggest it. Could he really blame you though? He kept him in a jar for fucks sake.
“Alright, sorry.” You said with a sigh. “Just curious.”
“Bertie lived longer than most rats actually. I took really good care of him. He had like… a rat mansion.” He said expressively, his pointer finger gently pushing up your eyebrow to make you peek down at him. “I swear. Not Bertie.”
“Okay. Not Bertie.” You nodded, reluctantly looking down at him in concession.
“The first *real* one I remember was this lady’s who lived just outside the subdivision we lived in.” He started, lacing his hands together over his chest. “She had a shit ton of cats. Like, you could smell the piss just from standing in her yard. She let ‘em all out at once, around lunch time.”
“So I sat there across the street for about a week. Just watching.” He said, his voice calm and steady. “None of them wanted to come up to me.”
“I researched some snares.” Anakin said, making a loop motion with his finger before dropping it back to rest along the back of his opposite hand. “It took two days but I finally caught one.”
“How old were you?” You asked, preparing yourself.
“Nine? Maybe ten?” He said dismissively. “I killed stuff before that. But not pets.”
“Okay, so what then?” You sighed, feeling a little sick and queasy.
“Before then? Like fish… frogs, moles, mice and birds. If I could catch it with my hands or in a glue trap, chances are I did.” He said matter of factly, tucking his arms under his armpits. He kept moving like he was afraid to stay still for too long.
“What was the biggest animal?” Morbidly curious now that the conversation was actually flowing. You thought maybe the bigger the animal, the less sad you’d feel about it.
“People.” Anakin said. Hearing that, you popped open your eyes to see him smirking like a little shit.
“Anakin.” You drew out his name in a few extra exasperated syllables.
“Fine.” He sighed, obviously hoping that would’ve made you end the questioning. “A pig.”
“They’re supposed to be anatomically similar to humans.” He shrugged, flopping his head to the side, looking toward the wall to avoid your attention. “Wanted practice.”
“Why?” You asked, an unsettling feeling taking root in your stomach.
“I didn’t want to fuck it up.” He mumbled, jerking his head as he twisted his lanky body to rest on his side, facing away from you.
“Who was it?” The question shot out of your mouth faster than you could even mentally form the words.
“None of your-“ He started to snap at you, but bit his tongue and forcibly made himself stop. He took a long pause and muttered something under his breath.
“Remember when I told you I hit that guy and got sent to the big, bad, scary boy school?” He sighed.
“I remember Ghost, telling me he went to a big, bad, scary boy school.” You sassed back, yanking on his ear to make him turn his head back to you.
“Same fuckin’ thing.” He scoffed, smacking away your hand. “I tried to, y’know. Obviously I did a shit job.”
“I- I didn’t swing from the right angle.” He scowled, standing up and dusting his jeans off before he stepped back and mechanically went through the motions of the first hit from that attack. Like he’d re-enacted it before. Several times.
“Fuck.” He grumbled, feigning a swing again. “I didn’t realize he was so much taller than me, lost momentum in the up-swing.” He frowned.
“Still pisses me off.” He mumbled, sitting back down with a light bounce on the cushions, his head falling into his hands.
“How come Ghost didn’t tell me that?” You asked, genuinely getting angry that he hadn’t divulged all the details the first go-round.
“We were kinda busy and I really didn’t want to make you think I was a damn psycho.” He shot back with a scowl.
“Found that out pretty quickly after you murdered an entire fraternity.” You gritted out through your teeth.
“I didn’t kill an entire fraternity!” He whisper shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You know damn well I didn’t.” He growled, jabbing a finger into your chest.
“Don’t- Anakin!” You gasped. Was he seriously trying to compare your unfortunate self-defense situation to purposeful murder?
“I’m not!” He scoffed, running a hand through his thick black hair. “I didn’t say anything about that!”
“It’s not my fucking fault those guys couldn’t get out of the closet.” He grumbled, roughly mussing up his hair. “It’s not like I meant for them to die! I just didn’t want them to have time to follow us.”
“Jesus, you act like I’m some kind of-“ Anakin paused, his hands out in front of him before he took in a breath and balled them into fists to rest on his knees. “Sorry.”
“Let’s just… stop for now. Okay?” You suggested, knowing you couldn’t mentally handle anymore anyway.
“No, just hit me with your big questions and get it over with.” He sighed softly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans. “I don’t want to re-hash this another time.”
His request was reasonable of course. This was mentally draining for you to listen to and you were certain it was just as exhausting for him to retell. It’s just difficult to imagine you could stomach much more.
“What about the other people before me?” You asked nervously, licking your bottom lip when your mouth suddenly felt dry.
“I was angry.” He mumbled, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee and letting his hands fall into his lap. “I didn’t ever want to fuck up that bad again. That guy… he just- he was always so damn rude and went out of his way to inconvenience us. Y’know?”
“Like shoving his garbage into our trash cans on pick-up day. He let his dog shit in our yard. He mowed over my mom’s peonies, before we put up the fence in the back.” Anakin scowled, even the memory pissed him off. The fact he was having to use mental energy to recall such a worthless person was irritating.
“He backed into mom’s new car. He’d have a bunch of people over and block our driveway… sometimes even tell people to park in our driveway too.” Anakin breathed out, flexing his fingers before clasping his hands together, trying to hide the way he was beginning to fidget.
“Then he got married and had a stepkid, nice girl. Didn’t talk much.” He said, his left knee starting to bounce almost uncontrollably. “She was probably still in elementary school.”
“I saw him smack his wife once.” Anakin gritted his teeth, the sound audible and squeaky. “I knew he was shitty, but I didn’t realize he was a waste of space until then.”
“I was so mad that it was hard to breathe.” He scoffed, gesturing at his chest. “He smacked her outside, where anyone could see. He didn’t care. It’s like he thought that no one would say anything to him or try to stop him.”
“Poor girl saw the whole thing and he just laid into her, screaming and throwing a man-tantrum.” He sneered. “I couldn’t ignore it.”
“But that’s not- I mean-” You paused, a little surprised that the story was going in such a direction. You hadn’t expected his previous… activities… to be somewhat justifiable.
“What?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in question to you, wondering why you’d interrupted.
“Nothing, just thinking aloud.” You quickly corrected yourself and let him continue.
“Well… anyway.” He sighed, rubbing his forefinger’s knuckle beneath his nose. “I knew he’d be driving past the dumpsters on his way out that evening, so I bought some spray paint and was spray-painting shit all over the dumpsters. Obviously baiting him, y’know?”
“Mhm.” You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the irritation in his voice.
“I thought maybe if things didn’t go well, I could just say he and I were fighting over the graffiti. Which is exactly what I ended up having to do. Since I didn’t hit him hard enough, enough times.”
“I guess that makes sense.” You nodded, feeling your mental energy draining straight out your ears.
“Yeah, I was a fucking idiot.” He scoffed, acting as if he took your comment as sarcasm. “Never happened again. I made sure of it.”
“How… exactly?” You asked, internally smacking yourself for asking, even though it needed to be answered.
“I swore off anyone I knew.” He held up a finger, bending it to tap repeatedly against the pad of his thumb* “I had to find someone that guys size. So I could correct my mistake. I had to do it within a month.”
“Why?” You frowned, wondering if he’d set that time limit for himself for whatever reason.
“My court date.” He said plainly. “I knew I wasn’t getting out of punishment. I was going to jail or that Juvie school for certain.”
“Oh, right.” That made sense… except you’d have assumed he’d be under some sort of supervision because of the assault. Did they just let violent offenders on bail roam freely while they waited for court?
“I just found a guy who looked similarly built to what’s-his-face. Then I beat the shit out of him until I figured out how to swing up at someone taller and bigger than me.” He said simply. “Obviously I don’t have to worry about that anymore though.” Anakin gestured to his long, lanky legs and lean muscles.
“You did what?” Your jaw went slack and your eyes widened to the size of saucers as his words went in one ear and straight out the other as if your brain didn’t even want to entertain that as fact. “Beat him? You beat someone to death?”
“How else was I going to figure out how I messed up so bad the first time?” Anakin asked as if it were common practice. He seemed genuinely surprised that you were upset, like he wasn’t sure what he said to make you feel so shocked.
“Like with your fists?” You asked, face contorted into a strange expression of mixed morbid curiosity and a hint of fear.
“No, I’m not stupid.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Skin cell transfer, sweat, hair, blood. That’s a terrible idea 1) it’d fucking hurt and 2) why would I waste time and effort with my fists when I can be a one hit wonder with a crowbar?”
“Oh.” You slumped in your seat, feeling a little… inferior? If that was the correct word, for it. You hadn’t really thought about the logistics or risks of pummeling someone with your hands.
“Let’s go across the hall.” Anakin suggested with a sudden burst of energy as he sprung up to his full height and immediately started heading for the door.
“Okay?” You furrowed your brows but hopped up after him, rushing to catch up with his wide steps.
After throwing open his front door, he left it wide open for you to follow him through, while he lifted up his couch cushions and tossed them into a haphazard heap. You’d checked under those cushions, under the couch and behind it, in search of something to prove he was Ghost not so long ago and now watching him un-Velcro the black liner covering the springs… you felt both impressed and a little embarrassed that you hadn’t noticed the liner wasn’t attached as it should’ve been if it were intact from factory production.
With a loud **skrrriptd** the liner was pulled back half way and he reached through the zig-zagged springs to pull out a backpack. Ghost’s backpack. Underneath it laid a long metal box that he also pulled out and swiftly plopped down onto the rug to open it up. Inside was a carefully arranged assortment of knives. All shapes and sizes. He was particularly fond of butterfly knives, as you already knew. You counted at least six that you’d never seen before.
“I got my second one with these.” He said, a weirdly sharp smile on his face. His eyes bright and proud in a way you’d never seen before. You wondered if that’s the face he wore beneath his mask, that sick expression of glee.
He laid out a large serrated hunting knife and a matching set of short, curved blades with handles ending in a thumb-hole. “These would probably be better suited for you though. I got over-excited and picked ‘em up cause they were cool.” He said with a smile, offering the matching pair to you.
“They have a nice back-handed grip, see?” He explained enthusiastically, having you hold out your hands and placing the handles in your palms. Doing all the work for you as he positioned your thumbs in the holes and had you grip them tighter.
“Claw knives.” He said simply, making a punching motion. “Versatile, you can still use your hands while holding them. Like you can climb a ladder or tie your shoes with them in your hands. And fistfight if you have to.”
“My hands are too big for the handles though. I only used them for a bit and had to switch to the big blade there.” He said, gesturing toward the large hunting knife. “I’m glad I kept them around though.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, kissing your neck gently.
“You look pretty with ‘em.” He murmured, his hands traveling up your sides and down your arms, admiring the way the blades looked in your dainty hands. “Very, very pretty.”
“Makes me wanna do some bad things.” He whispered sigh his breath hot against your neck, his tongue licking along the shell of your ear. “Or maybe watch you do some bad things.” Anakin growled with a low grit.
“I don’t think-“ You started, blushing for more than one reason. Partially because he was letting his obvious erection less against your ass and partially because of the shame you felt for considering…
“M’joking.” He chuckled, squeezing you around the middle and giving you a rough kiss on the neck. “I love you baby. I feel… a lot better after all this.” He sighed, spinning you around to face him as he took the knives from your hands.
“I love you too.” You said quietly, watching him place the blades back into the case along with the others.
“Are we gonna talk about… what you were planning for that subdivision?” You asked softly as you laid your head in his lap. Tired and full from dinner as he pet you and watched a silly little girly movie at your insistence.
“I didn’t have anything planned.” He snapped quickly, scowling down at you. “I was just looking.”
“But, why?” You asked with a frown, not convinced at all.
“I just got a weird feeling okay? Wanted to check it out.” He muttered, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger.
“So it’s not someone that did something to…?” You asked the open ended question, not knowing how to phrase it.
“No. Nothing to do with you.” He huffed, staring blankly ahead at the tv. “Promise.”
“If you say so.” You nodded with a sigh, forced to accept his statement as fact.
“How about I make some tea and we’ll go to bed?” Anakin asked, poking you in the cheek with a little smile of reassurance.
“You don’t have to drug me.” You sighed, sitting up and looking at him pointedly.
“W-what?” He sputtered, taken aback by your bold assumption. It was correct, but it was still shocking to him that you’d called him out on it. You were taking all the fun out of this.
“I’ll just go to bed.” You stood up, taking the throw blanket you had been laying with and tossing it over your shoulders like a shawl before shuffling off to the bedroom and face planting onto the mattress, letting yourself sink down into the softness of it.
Anakin shot up from his seat and stood there for a solid minute. Completely frozen and befuddled by your actions. What the hell? What was he supposed to do after that? Continue with his plan? Ditch it? He didn’t like being thrown off like this.
He shook his head and rubbed his face like he thought it would clear away what had just happened and you’d be laying in his lap again, you’d let him make you tea and you’d be out like a light. He wasn’t planning to drug you for malicious reasons. He just wanted to make sure you’d sleep through the night and he wouldn’t have to waste time worrying about you.
Though when he opened his eyes, to his dissatisfaction, reality was… reality and you weren’t there beside him. With a little more effort than usual and a heavy weight in his mind, he changed clothes and grabbed his bag. Walking over to the bedroom to see you laying there scrolling on your phone.
“So… you’re just going to let me go?” He asked, standing in the doorway, looking like a lost child.
“Yes?” You responded, glancing over at him. “What did you expect?”
“I- I don’t know…” he stuttered, shrugging awkwardly. “Not this.” He gestured to you.
“Well you have plans and I’m not included in them so I assumed it’s for a good reason.” You said simply, having learned that it was best to turn a blind eye to things you had no business knowing about. You’d be risking your freedom and his if you knew anymore than you already did. It’s not like you’d hold it together very well under pressure from an interrogation.
“I don’t know if I’m… proud or disappointed.” He mumbled to himself, scratching his head.
“Be… safe?” You offered the sentiment because you weren’t sure what else to say in this situation.
“Yeah.” He muttered, frowning to himself. “I won’t be gone long.” With that, he turned on his heel and tried to shake off the eerie feeling that shrouded him.
After he left, you spent a long time mindlessly scrolling on social media. You weren’t really paying attention to what you were seeing at all, you just needed an excuse not to sleep. Because if not, you’d have to admit to yourself that you were… feeling something. You weren’t sure what, but it was a feeling you knew wasn’t right. It didn’t belong.
Diary Entry
I didn’t even want to go after speaking to you. You didn’t bat an eye at me. It made me want to shake you and force you to come with me. Even though I had no intention of taking you with me in the first place.
Stupid. You’re stupid. I’m stupider.
Anakin crouched below the laundry room window of the massive home that was his target. He just needed a quick look around. That’s all. Just a few more steps on his list and he’d be inside and out quicker than it took for him to break in.
Taking a flathead screwdriver to the keypad housing outside the back door, he popped off the plastic and sat it aside. Thankfully, this bitch left the lights in the laundry room on. Or else he’d be forced to use his phone’s flashlight and that might draw attention.
“C’mon…” He gritted his teeth, mentally counting down the seconds in his mind. He needed to work swiftly. If not, all this prep work with research would be for nothing. “Stupid fuckin’ gloves.”
The leather was thick enough to keep him from getting electrocuted, unfortunately that also meant it was difficult to navigate through the tiny wires to find what he was searching for. Green, green, blue, yellow.
Green. Snip. Green, Blue. Snip, snip.
He concentrated like never before, knowing that if this went badly, he’d be in deep shit. He couldn’t afford to get arrested for a simple B&E. Not when he had so many skeletons in his closet. He prepped the cables with electrical tape, joining the two green cables together without allowing the copper wiring inside to touch.
“Peel back the wire casing…” Anakin mumbled, licking his lips beneath the black bandanna tied around his lower face. “a little twist…”
“Green 1 to Green 2.” He whispered, shaking out his hands and shoving his phone into his mouth with the charging cord attached, along with a car cigarette lighter adaptor on the opposite end, held up with his pinky finger.
“Blue 1 to Green 3.” He twisted the copper wiring together and quickly. “Blue 2 to Green 4.”
Yellow. Snip.
With those wires cut and prepped he had a measly five seconds to connect the necessary circuits or face the consequences of his actions.
His hands started to sweat inside his gloves. Anakin hadn’t felt pressure like this in ages. Probably since the first time he’d broken into a home. It was nerve wracking enough to make his hands shake a little as he quickly stripped the wire casing and connected the two ends of the yellow wire to the car adapter. Finally he wrapped the electric tape around the adapter and yellow wiring, watching as his phone lit up with the logo of the Westside Watch app.
“Oh thank fuck!” He quietly punched the air in front of him with his phone clutched in his hand. “Jesus, finally. Did something fucking right.” He breathed out, shaking his hands and arms to rid himself of any lingering feelings of anxiety.
Anakin opened the app and pulled up the in-home camera monitoring, checking every room for movement, every corner for signs of life. Even though he’d already confirmed there was no car in the garage and the wretched lady who owned the place was out galavanting around.
She was wealthy, it wouldn’t be totally unexpected if she had a maid or even a watchdog somewhere in the house, but everything seemed clear. So he disabled the alarms and paused all camera activity before he picked the locks on the back door.
With that finished, he slipped off his shoes and crept into the home. For the home of such a bitchy woman, Anakin had expected something more… pretentious. Yeah it was clear that she didn’t get her furniture at Marshal’s, but it also wasn’t absolutely atrocious in style.
It reminded him of the homes inside the magazines his mom always had in the bathroom. Too clean and too untouched to be properly lived in. There wasn’t a warm or cozy atmosphere like he’d found in your home. It was devoid of any personal touches, not even a stray throw blanket or decorative pillow. Did this lady enjoy being uncomfortable?
He grudgingly decided to trek upstairs. It was useless to continue his search on the main floor. Clearly it was in a pristine ’guests could arrive any moment’ state and he wasn’t willing to risk moving anything out of its place.
He had suspected she was unmarried. Never having seen a wedding ring on her during their initial meeting, but it was confirmed when he opened her bedroom door and saw the clothes draped over an armchair, a makeup vanity with overflowing drawers and a comforter set that no self respecting man would sleep in.
“Looks like a person lives here after all.” He chuckled, rifling through drawers and peeking in her closet.
Nothing of interest caught his attention in her bedroom so he left, shutting the door behind him and continuing to the next door. Bathroom. He didn’t even bother to flip on the light, he just shut the door and continued on.
“Alright, now we’re getting somewhere.” He nodded to himself, turning on the desk lamp before he sat down in the stupidly comfortable ergonomic swivel chair.
There were papers everywhere.
“Little Miss Pantsuit sure does take a lot of work home.” He muttered under his breath as he flipped through halfway filled out intakes and records.
Anakin sat everything back just as messily as he found it, so he could focus of finding personal affects. If this lady had any. The walls were bare. Did she just spawn into existence like the fucking wraith that he saw her to be?
And just like that, just when he started searching through desk drawers, he saw something. *Under* the desk. A pillow? No, when he turned on the lamp it was clearly a pet bed. An embroidered one at that.
“Rex?” Anakin called out, expecting a cat to appear judging by the size of the bed and the fact that there was a heated blanket placed under the bed, cats do like to be warm after all. “C’mere buddy.” He clicked his tongue and tapped his fingers on the desktop.
Scuttling. The best word to describe what exactly he heard coming down the hallway. Rex breathed like an asbestos smoker when he finally entered the room after what felt like ages of scratching and clicking on the floors as he made his way to the home office.
That was no cat. That was a decrepit, cesspool of a science experiment gone horribly awry. The dog, if it could be classified as that, was crusty. To say the least. Eye boogers and cataracts, his head perpetually cocked to the side, the tip of its tongue dripping drool on the floor as it hung from it’s mouth and its entire body jerked with the force of the hoarse and overused bark attack he launched.
“What the fuck are you?” Anakin whispered, mouth falling open in disgust while holding the… undead? fiend at bay with the tip of his shoe to its chest.
It had to be some kind of yorkie mixed with maybe a possum considering the awkward placement of its eyes. Or maybe in its ancient age its eye sockets were just a little too tired to contain the entirety of its massive bulging eyeballs.
He reached down at picked up the creature by the scruff its neck, watching it flail and throw itself around while trying to bite the hand that held him aloft. With his left hand, he wrapped his gloved hand around its muzzle and within a moment or two the struggling stopped. The aggressive, sharp barking halted and its body went limp.
“Are you-“ Anakin quickly rolled the chair back and stood up, holding the animal as far away from himself as possible while he ran his left hand over the front of his hoodie. “Did you fucking piss on me? Jesus Christ have you no self respect?” He grimaced, looking down at the moisture on his leather glove.
“Nasty ass bitch and her nasty ass mutt.” He mumbled, laying the dog down on its pet bed and half expecting it to mummify right before his eyes.
“Ungrateful prick.” He scoffed, rolling the chair back up to the desk and inserting a flash drive from his pocket to the computer monitor. “Just saved your mom $500 bucks. I’m a professional euthanizer myself, only I don’t charge for it.” He snickered.
After all the files were transferred to the flash drive, Anakin slid it back into his pocket and closed down the computer again. Standing up as he held the front of his hoodie away from his body, pinched between his forefinger and thumb. He made his way through the upstairs, checking the bedrooms and bathroom.
Sad gray paint. Boring white bedding. Tiny nightstands. One average no-personality white lady spare bedroom. Why would she need two spare bedrooms when it’s clear she doesn’t get visitors?He thought as he opened the next door.
Workout equipment and a closet full of totes, which of course he rifled through and saw absolutely nothing of value. Other than the very obvious fact that she was probably breaking some sort of middle aged woman receipt hoarding record. So, she was self aware enough not to waste time and money on another spare bedroom that would never be used.
The master bedroom held a massive bed with pristinely made bedding. The only real sign that an actual human lived there was the laundry basket overflowing in the corner and the rest of the week’s work clothes laid out neatly on the dresser.
Anakin knelt down and opened all the dresser drawers. Boring, un-exciting, useless. This woman was so unnaturally work oriented that she seemed to have absolutely no interest in life outside of her profession. What a sad existence. There wasn’t a single ‘let’s get laid’ dress in the closet. Nothing risqué in the drawers. She didn’t even have regular comfy clothes. She actually spent real life money on expensive matching loungewear rather than wearing a hole ridden, thread bare, free tshirt that she got from a highschool event like every other person on earth.
Why does she feel the need to be so… ‘perfect’?
Does she realize this kind of behavior does the opposite of its intended purpose? Sure, she looks put-together and it’s clear she’s not middle class. Though any girl with eyes and a brain would conclude she’s a major bitch rather than a woman to be jealous of.
What is she hiding that makes her act this way?
“Finally.” Anakin breathed out, grabbing a rather slim, embossed photo album from a box in the very top of the closet. Mementos. Maybe she did have a soul after all.
He flipped through it. Business brunches, office events, landscape photography. Plain. Boring. Her adult life was… pitiful. Though the farther back he searched, the photos delved into her more personal details. Tennis during college. Sheet protectors of newspaper clippings for achievements and noteworthy accomplishments. Surprisingly, robotics club seemed kind of fun. She liked it, her smile was genuine in those moments.
The younger she was in those photos, the more human she became to Anakin. She wasn’t just a cold, professional, weird lady. She at least *used* to have a personality.
Highschool Musical birthday party for her 10th. Overjoyed expression while seeing a tiger at the zoo. Field trip to the aquarium. Childhood friends with toothy grins who probably didn’t speak to her anymore. S’mores with the girl-scout troop. A middle school love interest with Bieber hair and flat brim hat. Obligatory handlebar mustache decor in her old bedroom.
Trendy and popular across the board. Homecoming queen, gaudy prom dresses, boatloads of boys and best friends.
Possibly single mother? Sisters. Normal middle class, suburban styled childhood home, kind of messy but in a lived-in way, not a dirty way. Purple bicycle in the garage.
Some photos were missing from the slots, so Anakin turned to flip through the random assortment of photos and papers lining the bottom of the box.
Childhood diary, that’s certainly going in the backpack. He thumbed through it and a few pictures fluttered down the the floor, he scooted them over into a pile on their own with the diary laid on top while he put everything back into the closet and turned his attention to the nightstands. Books and Tylenol, sleeping mask, Snickers bar. Normal.
There was a briefcase sized safe hiding under the bed, unfortunately he didn’t have the tools to break into it. But he did certainly jot down the make and model of it to study later. Just in case.
With everything settled, he casually trotted down the steps and went back out the way he came. The rest of the house was so completely uninteresting that he didn’t even bother with the garage and basement.
His retrieved his phone and put the casing back on the security system keypad, leaving the internal wire changes in order to leave himself a re-entry point. She’d still be able to access it without realizing there was any changes.
After arriving back at home, he swiftly rinsed off in the shower and changed clothes. Opting to toss the black hoodie in the garbage rather than take it down to the laundromat for a wash. Piss soaked crime-time clothing? No thanks. He had two more plain black hoodies anyway.
He plopped down in his desk chair, clicked the flash drive into place and while he waited for the files to upload, he flipped through the diary. His cheek resting on his fist as he turned the pages and inspected the pictures glued to the pages that accompanied some of the entries.
Halfway through the girly, scrawled gel pen script, he paused. Going rigid at what he read. His palms started to sweat and he felt himself growing clammy before his senses returned and he jumped up from his seat, tripping over his feet.
“Baby!” Anakin’s voice cracked, the bed creaking under his weight. “Baby wake up, you gotta see this.”
People being normal about haydens brother tove is so weird to me. Does anyone remember that he literally assaulted his gf in 2009 and got arrested for it?
Part Twenty One: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, [All possible tags listed, all may not apply] GORE, MURDER
Info: I’m back after my long sabbatical, don’t hate me. It’s shorter than usual, I just didn’t want to make you guys wait any longer [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread, there’s probably so many mistakes. MDNI 18+
With the front door shut, you were finally alone with Anakin again. Every time you tried to lift your head, each time you managed to turn to the side to escape the onslaught of primal kisses he’d trap your lips in; he’d pull you right back in without giving you a second to breathe.
“Stop.” His voice stern and unyielding even as he muttered it against your lips, his long fingers wrapping around your neck to further drive his statement home.
“Ani-” You squeaked, your hands resting on his biceps, fingertips digging in harder as he tightened his hold. “Just talk-”
“Shut up.” He growled, shaking you just beneath your jaw out of irritation. His eyes blazing with a ferocity you hadn’t ever witnessed with your own two eyes, only felt burn into your flesh. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“I’m not stupid!” You snapped back, quickly regretting the outburst when the back of his hand made contact with your cheek, luckily only one of his metal rings caught the skin, allowing a stinging pain to seep across the sensitive skin.
“No. Not yet.” He shook his head, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “But you will be.”
With a sharp movement he snatched a handful of your hair and guided you to the arm of the couch, kneeling on the cushion behind you as he bent you over. An audible pop of the stitches in the waistband of your pants permeated the otherwise silent room as he ripped down your pants mid-thigh. The blood rushed to your head as you scrambled to hold yourself up, grasping at the upholstery to find traction to lift yourself back up, to no avail.
“Anakin, I'm serious, I want to talk about this!” You shouted, your face feeling flushed as you struggled to hold yourself up on the tips of your fingers that barely brushed the floor.
“Excuse me?” He shouted back, ramming himself into your wet cunt as you yelped in surprise. “What did I just fucking say?” He barked rhetorically. “I said to shut your goddamn mouth.”
Anakin grabbed your hair again, pulling you up just enough to press two fingers to your lips, he let you loose, allowing your head to drop down. A loud gag emitted from your throat as his fingers hit your uvula, accompanied by a coughing fit that had your vision blurry. Your whole body jolted with each and every thrust and snap of his hips. He set a brutal pace that stole away your breath and your ability to think about anything other than the intense fire he’d lit in your lower abdomen.
“There, that’s better.” He grunted, satisfied that the only noises coming from you were wet and whiny.
“I’m only going to say this once.” He grumbled, smacking your hip before grabbing it and using your own body as leverage. “You. Don’t. Know. Shit.”
“And it’s gonna stay that way.” He added, driving into you deep and hard as you drooled around his fingers, his thumb digging into the side of your face. “Understand?”
Anakin finally removed his fingers from your mouth, allowing you a chance to gulp down fresh air and breathe more easily as you coughed to ease the itching in your esophagus. With both of his large hands enveloping your hips, he leaned forward, his chest now flush against the heated flesh of your back. The way he so gently, sweetly kissed your spine all the way up and across your shoulders, was the complete opposite to how he was manhandling the rest of your body.
His thick length stretching you perfectly, so perfectly that every time he sheathed himself it felt like a sparkler had lit up inside your stomach. With each kiss the tip of his cock bruised your cervix with, the sparkler burned brighter, popping and crackling until it fizzled down to the end. With a final burst in your core, Anakin sent you spiraling into a world where there was nothing left but him.
Your only thoughts surrounded him, each breath that was drawn in and out of your lungs, held his scent. Your skin tingled and warmed as though hundreds of his calloused hands held you within their grasp. Even the tears formed in the corners of your eyes held the same heat that you felt pool between your thighs for him. Your lips frozen in a soft ‘O’ shape as you came down from the heaven he’d tossed you up into.
“I asked you a question, you know.” He panted, his rough palms smoothing up and down your back.
“Huh?” You murmured, allowing him to continue slowly rutting up into you while his cum leaked out and formed a frothy ring of white at the base of his cock.
“Acceptable answer.” He chuckled as a smirk twitched across his mouth. He’d take your inability to comprehend his words as a sign he’d fucked your questions deep enough into the back of your mind that you’d leave it be for now.
“What?” You asked confusedly as his arm hooked beneath your stomach and pulled you up as his cock slipped out of you with a soft pop.
“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He whispered, standing behind you as he kept you steady on your wobbly legs. “We going to bed here? Or wanna go across the hall?”
“Here.” You nodded tiredly, stripping off your clothes right there in the living room before you sluggishly traveled to the bathroom to clean up while Anakin tidied up the dining table and the kitchen in his boxers.
Feeling frustrated and annoyed, you sat down on the edge of the tub to wash up a bit. Once again you’d allowed yourself to be steered away from a conversation you desperately needed to have, despite really not wanting to have it. Part of you was thankful to have avoided it, but the logical side of you was screaming at you for being such a fool. The answers to such big and burning questions were just on the other side of the wall, making odd noises to stave off the boredom that came along with clearing the table and scraping off the dishes.
If only you could get a yes or no. That’s all you really needed, just a simple yes or no. You knew it in your soul. You’d known for a while and refused to admit it. But his vague words and his aggressive reaction confirmed it.
You should be scared. Terrified.
Though it just left you feeling… hollow. Why? Why would he do this for so long and never confess it on his own? Why had he hidden himself in the first place? Did he think less of you for demanding answers? Was it only going to push him farther away, farther into himself if you kept pushing?
How could you coax it out of him? It was obvious that he knew you knew. So why was it so hard for either of you to speak about? The complacency you felt with the situation had been stagnant for so long that it was a difficult shell to break out of. You’d both become so accustomed to the secrecy of it all that it felt almost wrong to hear the truth.
You sighed, standing up, brushing your teeth and combing through your ratted up hair before steeling yourself and exiting the bathroom. As you ran a hand through your hair, you turned to the kitchen, expecting to see Anakin scurrying about. Though he was nowhere to be seen. The bedroom was empty as well, so you checked the fire escape, seeing him there with his bong, the flame of his lighter flicking to life as he took a long pull of smoke.
You stood and watched him for a moment, admiring the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, the soft curve of his lips and the way his hair curled up at the nape of his neck. Those piercing blue eyes drifted from the alley below, out to the street as he observed the city moving around him. He was so interesting to watch, especially when he didn’t know your eyes were on him.
He lost the bravado and the confidence he carried so well. His body language was more reserved and relaxed, as if he were taking off a weight from his shoulders. It made you wonder what he was carrying around with him that weighed so heavily. Was it the secret you knew of? Or something buried deeper?
After grabbing a blanket to wrap around your naked body, you walked to the cracked open window and nudged it open a bit further to stick your head out. He looked up at you with a sullen expression, making no effort to hide that he was feeling… feeling something.
“You okay Ani?” You asked quietly, sitting on the lip of the window sill despite it being horribly uncomfortable.
“As good as I can be.” He nodded, a plume of smoke wrapping around his head.
“What do you mean?” You asked, watching him tilt his head to the side as he tongued his labret jewelry.
“I mean, I’m as good as I can be.” He said flatly, a face accompanying the words that made you believe there was a hidden meaning beneath them.
“Are you coming inside soon?” You asked softly, your eyebrows swooped up in concern.
“Yeah, just give me a minute.” He nodded, his voice gruff and disinterested. He reached over and squeezed your hand, rubbing your knuckles with the pad of his thumb.
You stayed there a second longer, trying to decipher his mood and his thoughts via body language even though you knew it was useless, it was never easy to get a read on him. Even harder when he was like this. You stood and began to make your way to the bedroom when you heard his voice, softer and more diminutive.
“You do love me. Don’t you?” He asked, his voice melancholic. He wasn’t asking for reassurance, he seemed to be asking as though he genuinely didn’t believe it.
“Yes.” You said firmly, turning to look at him under the faint yellowed street light. “I do love you.” You added just to further confirm it for him.
“You’re sure?” He asked, visibly swallowing.
“Of course I’m sure.” You stepped closer, pulling the blanket tighter around you.
“Good.” He nodded, looking down at the bong he held between his knees, lighting the bowl once more and taking a long pull. He held his breath far longer than you expected him to, letting the thin line of smoke leave his pursed lips slowly, enjoying the lightheaded feeling that addled his brain.
Just as you turned to leave the living room, he called out to you again as if the thoughts swirling in his mind simply wouldn’t let him wait to speak another moment.
“You know how I feel about you, right?” He asked, his icy blue eyes holding a warmth that had been absent during your conversation up till now.
“Yes, I know.” You smiled softly, your body relaxing a bit more.
“You do?” He asked in a worried tone, like he wasn’t convinced you were being completely truthful about it. “I’d do anything for you darlin’, you know that?”
“I know.” You nodded, the smile slipping from your face as it was replaced by something harder and more serious. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked with concern.
“I’m alright doll. Just makin’ sure.” He nodded, his fingers drumming on his thigh as he leaned back on his elbows to tilt his chin up and look to the sky. Murmuring something about how he wished he could see the stars as he shook his head and drug a hand down his face.
Diary Entry:
I’m losing it. I can’t do this. The closer I come to confessing, the sicker I get. Literally sick. I threw up after you went to bed last night. I want to tell you. You already know, but you should hear it from me. I know that. I know it’s unfair to tell you to shut up and leave it alone, but that’s the only thing I can get to leave my fucking mouth.
It’s like I’ve been barred from telling the truth.
My mind just can’t handle the thought you may recoil and run when it’s finally confirmed for you. I guess it’s just my way of protecting myself, but that’s hurtful for you. I’m unfortunately well aware of how hurtful that it is. It was clear on your face tonight.
Twice, I tried to tell you twice. Though all that came out were my worries. I feel strange. Like I've been flattened. Is that normal? I feel like it’s not.
What does it mean?
——————————————————————————
Diary Entry:
I feel like an animal. Not just any animal. A beast, of what kind, I’m not sure. I just feel like my skin isn’t sitting right. I don’t know how to let it out. What am I supposed to do? Go fucking nuts?
That’s what I want to do. I feel like I could trash an entire grocery store and I still wouldn’t be out of energy. It’s just boiling up under my skin. I feel like my bones are too big. Look at me, using all these ‘I’ statements. Wouldn’t you know it? They didn’t do shit.
I still feel those things, putting them down on paper and claiming those feelings didn’t do a damn thing but make me feel stupid.
How am I supposed to live my life in limbo? Between stages haven’t ever been something I'm comfortable with. Yet here I am, at the end of the week, still in limbo. Floating around, high stepping to avoid squashing the fragile truce we’ve called. You haven’t asked, I haven’t told.
The words sit on my tongue like acid. I haven’t ever felt like this before, such a strong urge to tell the truth. What have you done to me? I don’t like this. Is this what it’s like to feel a sense of responsibility? If it is, then fuck it. I don’t like it.
My eyes feel goopy. My feet are heavy. My lungs are on fire. My hands are numb. My scalp is tingly. My flesh is too fleshy. My muscles are too meaty. My bones are too big. They’re too big and they want out.
DATE:
Anakin walked to work as slowly as possible. Dragging his sneakers on the sidewalk just to listen to the scraping noise the soles made. He pushed his bottom lip up and sucked the ball of his labret jewelry between his teeth, moving it back and forth with his tongue to add a different sound to occupy his attention.
Anything to quiet his thoughts.
He was jumpy, overwhelmed, nervous. So nervous. His palms sweaty and tingling as he rubbed them across his thighs roughly, friction heating up the denim while it absorbed the moisture.
Finally, he stopped at the employee entrance of the bar. Staring at the solid gray metal, wondering how badly it would hurt in he sprinted head first into it. That would be a good reason to go home… maybe he’d even be able to rattle his brain hard enough that he’d shake the voices right out of his ears.
“Sup?” Trevor asked, walking up behind Anakin and lightly smacking the back of his neck.
“Fuck you man.” Anakin grumbled, startled out of his frozen state to rub the stinging flesh on the back of his neck. His fingers threading through his hair and mussing it up to rouse himself a bit.
“What’s up with your face?” Trevor asked, holding his palm up in front of Anakin’s face and flexing his fingers, actual concern in his voice now that he stood in front of his friend.
“I’m tired.” Anakin said flatly, no reason to elaborate considering it was very clearly the truth. The exhaustion he wore on his face was a heavy weight, making it difficult to mask the stone-like expression that was his default setting.
He couldn’t even muster the energy to blink at a normal speed, his eyelids so weighty it took a conscious effort to lift them. Anakin’s words seemed sullen, as though his very voice were just as meloncholic as his mind.
“Did you sleep at all?” Trevor asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Does it look like I fucking slept?” Anakin snapped.
“No. That’s why I asked, asshole.” Trevor muttered, reaching forward to open the door but Anakin stopped him with a sound he’d never heard him make before.
It was a tiny, audible swallowing sound that appeared to have taken a great effort to produce. It was like Anakin was manually operating himself and wasn’t used to the controls. Trevor turned, glancing back at him and was about to open his mouth before he was interrupted.
“Got any K?” Anakin asked, sounding far away.
“Uh-“ Trevor frowned. He did, of course he did. His bag was in the trunk of his car. “No dude, sold out yesterday… can’t get any until next week.”
“You’re an awful liar.” Anakin’s lip twitched and he pushed past Trevor and threw open the door, clocking in before heading out front.
“April where the hell is my apron and shit?” Anakin grumbled, rifling around beneath the counter where it was supposed to be.
“Laundry day, it’s in the back room.” She reminded him, frowning at his tone and aggressiveness. She shared a look with Trevor, conveying her concern through her eyes. Trevor simply shook his head as if to say ‘Don’t ask’.
“Oh. Right.” Anakin nodded, grunting as he straightened back up and went to retrieve his apron.
The night went on as usual, though Anakin uncharacteristically declined to be the front man on the bar. No taking orders for him, only mixing drinks and cleaning up messes. He didn’t have the mental energy to make his face look polite. He didn’t even have it in him to make it neutral, he wore a scowl that just wouldn’t go away. Not even when he thought of you. If anything, his frown deepen at the mental image of your face.
“No? Actually I was hoping to talk to him.” A female voice with a flirty tone floated through the chatter, causing Anakin to look up and over his shoulder at Trevor.
“You look really familiar.” Trevor said thoughtfully, while Anakin turned back around and pretended not to hear the conversation. Focusing much to hard on cutting limes and lemons. Each chop of the knife louder, harder.
“Yeah, I get that a lot. Guess I just have one of those faces.” She lightly laughed.
Anakin froze. He knew that sound. He hated that sound. He hadn’t ever expected to hear it again. His eye twitched and his grip tightened on the knife handle, slicing a deep groove into the wooden cutting board before using the blade to scrape the fresh citrus into a bowl.
Anakin grabbed the edge of his apron and wiped the blade as he turned around to face the direction of the offending voice. Locking eyes with a woman he hoped he’d never meet in public. Reaching behind him, he jammed the blade tip onto the wood, the metal vibrating up through the handle from the force of it.
“This lady says she knows you.” Trevor thumbed toward the dark haired, brown eyed woman in dress clothes.
“She doesn’t know shit about me,” Anakin snapped, walking over to the bar top and leaning forward. “what the fuck are you doing at my work?” He growled.
“No reason to be so hostile, I didn’t even realize you worked here. I just thought I’d say hello.” She said with faux politeness.
“Is that right?” Anakin gritted his teeth, rapping his knuckles against the slick surface of the bar. “Hello and goodbye.”
“You missed your call, confirmation of your next appointment.” She said matter of factly.
“Say one more word and I will call the licensing board.” Anakin’s lip curled up in anger, stepping back slightly as he remembered there was a camera watching his movements. He couldn’t be caught acting aggressively on tape.
“Pretty sure you’re breaking some kind of law by being here, talking about confidential shit.” He said in a calm voice that was almost more chilling than the grit that came along with his anger. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Anakin, there’s really no need-“ Trevor began and was swiftly interrupted.
“Trevor, I’ll be taking a break now. If this person isn’t gone by the time I come back, I’ll be quitting and finding somewhere else to work.” He said matter of factly, taking off his apron and tossing it underneath the counter before storming off into the backroom, leaving Trevor and April in complete confusion.
“Sorry, um… here’s your margarita.” Trevor said awkwardly. “On the house for the trouble.”
“It’s really no problem.” She shook her head and waved him off, allowing him to tend to other customers.
Meanwhile out in the back, Anakin paced back and forth, wondering what the hell he could do to get out of this situation. How dare she? That damn know it all bitch. Did she search through his personal information? What the hell kind of professional would do that? Exactly why women shouldn’t work in a field like hers.
Research. He needed to do some research.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket, thumbs hovering over the keyboard after tapping the search bar in Safari. Unsure of what to type, not even certain if he -should- attempt to look for answers to the questions floating around his skull. Anakin decided to switch gears, rubbing his face before logging into an app he hadn’t used in a while.
‘Long time, no see.’ He typed, scoffing to himself as he erased it.
‘Do me a favor-‘ Nope, no good either. He couldn’t be that direct about it after going into hiding from you.
“Fuck this.” He grumbled, tugging at his hair with one hand as he sucked on his labret jewelry, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Stupid bitch isn’t worth the trouble anyway. Right? Some damn doctor.”
Anakin stormed back inside the bar’s employee entrance, walking through the back room before popping his head around the door frame that led behind the bar. He didn’t see her anymore, but he did see a very stern faced April waiting for him with his apron.
“Don’t give me shit right now okay?” Anakin growled, snatching the apron and tying it on.
“What is your problem?” April hissed, clasping her hand around his arm, pushing him into the backroom.
“The hell? What is *your* problem?” Anakin shot back impatiently.
“You’re not yourself. Not to mention whatever the fuck that was with that lady!” April whisper yelled.
“Not your damn problem. Get back and let me go back to work.” He huffed, trying to shoulder his way past her.
“Absolutely not. That woman is still out there, thought you were going to quit if she was here when you got back.” She challenged him with a scowl.
“Whatever, I’m not letting some dumb whore drive me away from my job.” Anakin muttered tiredly, running a hand through his hair before crossing his arms.
“I figured as much.” April said with a tone of voice that seemed almost relieved. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but I need you to get it dealt with okay?”
“Jesus, why’s everyone on my ass lately?” Anakin barked, a little too loudly, catching the attention of one or two bar patrons. April sighed and shut the back room door for privacy.
“Because we’re worried about you!” She said seriously.
“No one asked you to be!” He yelled back, clenching his left hand into a fist. He brought it up to April’s face and slowly unfurled his pointer finger to poke her forehead with more force than necessary. “My girl is the only person who has the right to worry about me. Okay? And she knows I’m doing just fine.”
“Really? You’re sure? Because I thought friends were supposed to look out for each other.” April retorted, unconvinced by Anakin’s words and display.
“You’re not my fucking friend. You’re my coworker.” He snarled, untying his apron once more and dropping it to the ground. “I don’t have to listen to whatever speech you and Trevor cooked up. Can you handle the bar by yourselves tonight? Cause I can’t be here right now.”
“Why not? Too big a pussy to let us see some bitch get under your skin?” She taunted him, leaning forward. “Bet your little girlfriend would be real disappointed in her man if she knew that’s all it took to make you give up your own stomping grounds.”
“Shut the hell your mouth.” He growled out, teeth bared like a dog prepared to bite. “Get the fuck out of my way.” Anakin pushed past her and took long strides to reach his station at the bar, washing up and going straight back to work like he hadn’t just thrown a hissy fit. He couldn’t allow a woman to put him in his place, especially when that woman wasn’t you.
Meanwhile you laid on the couch at home in the comfort of your apartment. It’d be relaxing if not for the pile of laundry that seemed to never end. Taking a break had turned into an hour long rest with your feet kicked up and the tv blaring some nonsense. It was nice to have nothing to think about for the time being. No worries about Ghost or Anakin, both of them, one of them? Are they a them? No. He’s not. He’s one man.
One man who split himself in two.
How hard would it be to sew those halves back together? Could it even be done? Or had the separation caused a major divide within him, like magnets repelling each other. Sure, they can get close, but they may never click into place again like they were meant to.
You wouldn’t know until you tried. If you could convince him to allow it. But that seemed impossible at the moment, considering how he wouldn’t even entertain the possibility of a conversation about it…
There you go, worrying about it all again. Your mind never allowed you much peace anymore. Things used to be so much simpler, gods how you missed that. The warmth of Anakin when he would come home and hold you. The searing heat of Ghost’s eyes burning into your flesh. Both tangible. Both completely different.
They were oil and water at the beginning, repelling each other with all their strength, but even oil and water can be mixed if shaken well enough. There’ll still be small bubbles of oil, floating around the water, but it wouldn’t be nearly as cumbersome as an entire layer of oil skimming the surface of the water. It’d be more manageable, for the both of you.
One side of him was certain to catch fire. Though at this point you weren’t sure which. The well put together and loving boyfriend? Or the masked man who’s made it his mission to have you no matter what, a masked man who always carries a knife and never missed an opportunity to show you that he’s in charge?
“I need a drink.” You groaned, rubbing beneath your eyes to find that your body had betrayed you, small water droplets of salty tears sat in the corner of your eyes. You stretched and shook your head, disappointed in your own inability to keep yourself off the edge of the path you believed you were meant to take.
Your own path. One you could stroll down without worrying about anything at all, because the man you loved would be right behind you. The path lined with lillies of all colors, bright and clear skys, rolling waves of grasses in the distance, beauty as far as the eye can see. All yours. You just had to find it first.
Reaching the kitchen cabinet, you hesitated when seeing the wine glasses. There’s no reason you should use one. No one is home but you, it’s not like it’s practical to use anyway, especially if you’re planning on consuming enough to make a horse drunk. Lightly tapping the cabinet door, you halfway closed it and spun around to grab a wine bottle from the fridge, a delicious deep red.
Then, you swung your arm out to grip the handle of your favorite travel mug. The pretty patterned one that held almost a whole Brita pitcher of water. With the cork squeaking out from the place it was wedged in the neck of the wine bottle, you smiled to yourself, giving it one more tug. Finally graced with the glorious ‘bup-pop’ of the cork coming loose, you poured yourself a generous dose of big girl juice and snapped the lid down onto your cup.
You leaned down, sipping the cold red wine with vigor through the light pink straw. With the handle firmly in your grasp, you shuffled back to the couch and wrapped yourself in a blanket, deciding to choose a movie to watch. Kicking your feet up carelessly onto the coffee table, not even batting an eye at the pile of folded clothes that slid off into the floor. You weren’t in cleaning mode anymore, you were in ‘me time’ mode now. Focused solely on getting as drunk as a skunk.
“Dude, at this point I think I should probably just… I don’t know, skip town and go to the Bahamas.” You muttered, clicking your tongue rapidly to summon your four legged friend for emotional support and the valuable input she might be able to give.
As she curled up and purred against your leg, you sighed, scratched between her ears. The soft fur there was like a velvety worry-stone, petting her gave you a little peace among the storm raging inside of you.
“What do you think?” You asked, voice quiet and soft. Your tongue poking out the corner of your mouth to pull the straw in your big cup toward you. Taking a big swig of the wine, you sighed dramatically, letting yourself relax against the cushions of the couch.
Taking the tip of your cat’s ear between your fingers, you rubbed the soft, thin cartilage. Fur as smooth as the world’s softest moleskin; her ear twitching between the pads of your fingers.
“Could you be helpful, please?” You groaned, futile as it was, you almost wished that she’d meow in response, you’d even take a smack to the face. It would be better than the outward silence mixing in with the swirling vortex of conflicting opinions settling in your throat.
“So, it’s like this, right?” You sat up a little straighter, both hands on the cup between your palms. “You knew him before me. So it’s your fault for not telling me. We could’ve avoided all this fuss if you’d just moved those whiskers.”
”I don’t even wanna speak to you right now.” You huffed, holding up your cup with one hand to keep from dropping it while you went limp and let yourself slide down onto the floor, your legs beneath the coffee table. ”Just sit up there and keep being a sneaky little bitch.”
”Can’t believe you. Fraternizing with the… enemy? For so long!” You whipped your head around leaning back against the front of the couch and resting your head near her stomach. “You let him into the house! Aren’t pets supposed to be protective? It’s all your fault.” You sniffled, not yet realizing your eyes were watering.
”I’m too tired to even hold my head up to watch this stupid shit.” You scowled, angrily wiping away a tear that leaked out. Grabbing the remote, you turned it off, purposely knocking off the rest of the clothes from the coffee table. You weaseled your upper body beneath the glass coffee table, unlocking your phone to lay it screen down on the glass to comfortably watch your silly little shit while you laid there like a lazy dog. Just as you got comfortable, you realized the flaw in this plan was your big cup with its big straw. You’d have to turn your head to drink your wine and that just wasn’t going to work.
”Oh my god!” You huffed, pushing against the front of the couch and you straightened out on the rug, coming out from under the coffee table on the other side. Clumsily clamoring to a standing position, you trudged to the kitchen cabinet, searching for a different cup.
Funny how you had the energy to find a more suitable drinking glass, but not the energy to tilt your head to the side or look at the actual tv screen. Priorities, you supposed, rolling your neck on your shoulders after craning it to reach high into the cabinet. Out of all the options, none of them fit the bill for your needs. Melting to the cold tile in the kitchen, you slid into a kindling position with your forehead pressed against the cool stainless steel of the dishwasher. You rested there for a moment before shuffling on your knees to the fridge, pulling it open to grab the bag of shredded cheese.
There, in the door of the fridge, you found a perfect solution to your ‘drinking problem’. A Gatorade bottle with a twisty top. Snatching it up, you stood a bit too quickly and dizzied yourself, swaying on your feet as you grabbed an empty cup to pour the Gatorade out into. Without even rinsing the bottle, you transferred the wine over and snapped the lid back in place on your adult sippy cup. You made it back to the coffee table before having to spin around and go back, closing the door of the fridge.
Settled beneath the glass coffee table, a blanket over your lower half where you’d propped your legs up onto the couch, you turned the Gatorade bottle up and took a long pull of wine from the small opening, squeezing the bottle’s side to squirt more into your mouth before you swallowed and used your opposite hand to sprinkle shredded cheese over your open lips.
After a while of rinse and repeating these actions, your cat settled into a loaf position above you on the glass tabletop. She looked down at you with a judgemental stare, silently scolding you for the way you were acting.
“Don’t you dare judge me.” You coughed out, covering your eyes with the crook of your elbow over your face. “You’re just as bad as me! All it took was a few treats and you made friends with a fucking serial killer!” You sobbed, full chest heaving breaths that caught in your throat halfway down.
“Hello mental institution, take me away!” You wailed in hysterics, the last of your composure and majority of your sanity leaked out along with the tears pooling on the floor beneath your head at a rapid rate. “I’m an idiot who willingly let herself be an accomplice to murder! I’ve killed a man! I thought I was cheating on my boyfriend and I was totally okay doing it! Turns out I was cheating on my boyfriend, WITH my boyfriend! Who kills people! For fun!”
”While I’m confessing my sins I may as well do them all, huh?” You said aggressively to whatever powers that may be listening, if any at all existed.
“In first grade, I blamed Todd for killing the class fish, but it was my fault!” You sniffled, wiping snot across your face. “I put soap in the filter, a whole shit load of it!”
”When I was in fourth grade, I hit this girl with my mountain bike while going down the big hill near our house. Totally gross, peeled off part of her knee skin.” You took a halting breath, washing down the bile that threatened to crawl up your throat with a quick chug of wine. “I said it was an accident, but I did it on purpose cause I hated her for getting the Lizzie McGuire makeup thingy before I did, and when I finally got it, she ATE my damn chapstick like a fuckin’ lunatic! Who does that?”
”I worked hard at that stupid, sweaty fucking yard sale to get enough cash for the damn thing and when I get to show it off to her and prove I was just as good as she was, she said, ‘mm the strawberry one tastes good, can i have it?’. What the fuck? She just grabbed it and rolled it up and ate it like a toddler eating a glue stick.” You scoffed, hiccuping before shoving a small handful of shredded cheese in your mouth, complete with the salty tang of the palm sweat that came along with a mental breakdown.
Sure, you had a little bout of lunacy when you killed that guy, in self defense, you reminded yourself. But this was completely different. You didn’t crawl into yourself and hide away. No. It was like all this emotional turmoil was boiling you from the inside out and the only way to save yourself was to pull the lid off the pot and pray it didn’t spill over the sides.
“Luke’s cat.” You sobbed, curling up and rolling onto your side. “I just couldn’t stand seeing him so…” A long, self loathing groan left your lips. Your mouth open but lips connected by a thin line of saliva.
It was nearly two in the morning by the time Anakin left work. He was tired. Angry. Irritated. All he wanted was to go home and sink himself inside that velvet cunt waiting for him there. Alas, as a man with shit to do, he had to get that shit done. Passing by the apartment building, he paused in the middle of the road, lightly tapping the breaks when he realized your apartment’s lights were still on.
“Still up?” He furrowed his brows, pulling his phone from the cup holder of his car before remembering he’d gotten rid of the cameras. “Damn.” He muttered, shaking his head and cutting the wheel hard to the right, whipping into the parking lot to shut the car off and make his way up the fire escape to take a peek in your window.
What he found was a shock, to say the least. He’d never seen you in such a state before and if it weren’t for the loud and clear snores bouncing off the walls and into his ears, he’d have thought you were dead. Sprawled out on the rug, a dark red stain by your head and a Gatorade squeeze bottle of wine in your hand, clutched to your chest like a teddy bear. You’d drunk yourself to sleep. He couldn’t believe it. He was absolutely floored.
He knocked on the window with the back of his hand, loudly, hoping to stir you awake. Your slumbering body didn’t even flinch.
”Fuck me running.” He mumbled under his breath. He hated having a change in his plans, but what kind of monster would leave their girl in such a state without helping?
With a huff, he trudged back down the steps and slid down the ladder at the bottom, landing on booted feet with a grunt. What happened to the Anakin who was always prepared? The Anakin that carried all the tools he needed, he cursed at himself as he stomped toward the door, typing in the door code only to have it flash red at him.
“The fuck?” He breathed out, tugging on the door handle before typing in the code again. Flashing red light glowed in the darkness of the early morning hours once again. “Are you FUCKIN” kidding me?” He barked, pulling the door handle hard enough that the entire door rattled when he released it.
Pulling out his phone, he glanced down at the date. The door code had changed that morning. As it did on time, every time. Only, he was so in his head that he had completely forgotten about it. When did he begin to unravel like this? He should’ve never forgotten something like that, he simply shouldn’t have. He’s… he’s HIM. Angrily, he kicked the bottom of the door and called up the super for the building.
”Can you give me the new door code? I forgot to check on my way out.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose when the super asked his name. “Skywalker. Don’t you have all your tenet’s numbers?” He scoffed.
“Security stuff.” The super replied sleepily, obviously annoyed at having been woken up. “What’s the… key number?” He sniffed.
Anakin looked down at his key reading the engraved number on his apartment key. “Z3287.”
“5309.” With that said, the call dropped and Anakin heard the line go dead on the other end. Typing the new door code into the keypad while muttering under his breath. He jogged up the steps to your apartment and walked in, taking in the very strong scent of spilled wine.
“Okay.” He sighed, kicking off his shoes and locking the door behind him. He walked over and pulled you out from under the coffee table by hooking his hands under your armpits.
“Up we go doll.” He grunted, pulling you into his arms while he crouched down to gather up your limp body. “Goin’ to bed. Like you should’ve done earlier.” He murmured, kissing your forehead.
Once in your room he laid you on the bed, going to the dresser to retrieve a clean set of pajamas. He tossed them on the bed and grudgingly went across the hall to the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth and wetting it. Wringing it out, he set to work on cleaning up your face, neck and hands. But before he could gently wipe at your cheek, he got a really good look at your face.
”Who made you cry?” He asked, grabbing your chin to turn your head from one side to the other.
He was gentle with his grip, not really asking the questions in hopes you’d answer. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he might’ve been the cause behind your sorry state. Clicking his tongue, he went back to work, gently wiping your face.
“Alright doll, let’s get you out of these.” He grunted, trying to be gentle with your limp form as he pulled off your shirt and tugged down your shorts and panties.
He paused, tempted to…
No. No. Not right now. He’s busy. Anakin reminded himself that this was only a pit stop. He had an errand to run.
“C’mon babydoll.” He grunted, trying his best to be gentle as he dressed you, but you seemed even more limp and ragged than you did the night he drugged you. Were you really that drunk? That tired? “Work with me here sweetheart.”
”Quit.” You muttered in your sleep, your arm flopping over the edge of the mattress to dangle like a noodle.
”Feisty brat even in your sleep, huh?” He chuckled lightly, pulling you toward the middle of the bed to make sure you didn’t roll off in your deep slumber.
”Ghost?” You halfway lifted up your head and slurred the single word so badly it was almost intelligible, your eyes still completely shut.
Anakin froze, his hand recoiling from your body like you’d scorched his fingertips. He didn’t speak, standing completely still, unconsciously holding his breath to keep as silent as possible. It felt like a full day had passed by the time your body lost it’s tension and melted back into the deep sleep you were in before he’d startled you.
After that, Anakin hit the floor running, making a quick escape through the front door so quickly he almost failed to make sure your door was locked. He absolutely could not let you catch him there, he didn’t want to explain himself and he really didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that you were asking for the facet of himself he was tucking into his back pocket.
“Come on.” Anakin groaned in annoyance, smacking his right cheek lightly to keep himself awake. It was nearly 3:30 AM and he hadn’t had a wink of sleep. He’d been high wired since he started his shift at the bar nearly 9 hours ago.
Currently he was fighting his sleepiness tooth and nail with a Monster Energy and chain-smoking until his new pack of cigarettes were down to just three left. The home in front of him was on the outer west side of the city, a nicer subdivision, one he hadn’t even known existed until that night. Such a nice subdivision that he had to park nearly a block away and walk around the brick barrier and wrought iron gate to enter through the bushes continuing the barrier to prevent unwanted vehicles in the area.
The home was brick, two stories. A modern structure with huge floor to ceiling windows in the living room. Only a pretentious bitch like this one would want a feature that showed off the uncomfortable and ugly, yet presumably expensive furniture, decor and fireplace in the living area.
“God this is so fuckin’ boring.” He huffed impatiently. This stakeout was lackluster compared to the countless nights he spent watching you. It was exciting, fulfilling, giving him purpose.
This just felt like a job, a stupid chore that he just had to get done.
Each house here was protected by a high quality security system. Cameras, motion sensors, automatic locks and door codes. To add to the safety features, there was also a CCTV camera fitted to every fifth street light. All provided by the same security company: Westside Watch. This made Anakin’s plan easier in someways, extremely difficult in others.
Once he’d completed his scan of the area and jotted down his findings, he stood up, knees crackling in protest when he stretched and shoved his laptop back into his bag.
“Baby, just go back to sleep.” Anakin grumbled, swatting your hand away as you tried to wake him up for the fourth time that morning.
“It’s 11:00, are you sick?” You said in a quiet voice, the back of your hand coming down to feel his forehead for the second time. He didn’t stop you this time, letting you feel that his temperature was normal.
”I’m just tired.” He huffed. “Up late.” He mumbled, falling asleep before he could take another breath.
Around 3:00 in the afternoon, Anakin finally emerged from the bedroom, looking like a hermit who hadn’t seen the sun in over a year. His hair was stuck to the nape of his neck and forehead, plastered there with sweat. Circles under his eyes so dark it looked like he’d forgotten to wash off his usual light touch of under eye kohl.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Ani.” You snickered, standing up from the nest you’d made of pillows and blankets on the couch.
“Ha-ha, you’re so funny it hurts.” He grumbled. Clearly he was still much too tired for conversation.
”Do me a solid sweetheart.” He sighed, rubbing his hands together. “I need a fuckin’… beer and a fuckin’ McGriddle.”
”That’s… unfortunately not something I can do.” You said, picking up your phone from the couch arm to show him the time.
”No way.” He snorted, in disbelief that he’d slept so late. “Shit, I was set on that for breakfast.”
”I can make pancakes and sausage?” You offered apologetically. “It’s basically-“
”It’s so not ‘basically’ the same thing.” He groaned, running a hand down his face and bending backwards, back arching as he stretched his arms out behind his head. “I suppose I could be persuaded to eat it, since you’ll be the one making ‘em.” He gave you a small uptick of his lips, not really a smile, not really a smirk.
”I can do that.” You nodded, pleased to see he was slowly coming out of his grumpiness.
“Thanks babydoll.” He roughly tugged you against him, his hand on the back of your head as he gave you a peck on the forehead. “Gotta go shower, I reek.”
“Only a little.” You snorted. Though it wasn’t really truthful. You were armpit height to him and it was abundantly clear he’d sweat like he was running a marathon in his sleep.
Once he was fresh and clean, he walked through the apartment in just his boxers, plopping himself down onto the couch, manspreading and claiming ownership of the remote.
“Would you hate me if I smoked inside?” He asked suddenly. Leaning forward with a loan grunt to swipe his nearly empty pack of cigarettes.
“No…” You shook your head, plating the ‘breakfast’ you’d made, giving him a generous amount of syrup in a small dip cup. “You feeling okay?”
”Just… y-yeah.” He cleared his throat, lighting one up and taking a long drag, the red hot cherry crawling up the end of the paper casing. “Can’t be bothered to go out. I’d have to put on clothes, fuckin’ cold out there.”
“True,” You nodded, accepting out without further question as you slid the plate down onto the low glass table in front of him. “Still want beer?”
”Of course.” He said, the tone of his words making it sound like he was answering a stupid question.
“Hey, did you ever hear from that realtor friend of Luke or whatever?” He asked curiously, tearing off a piece of pancake to dip into the syrup.
“No, not yet.” You shook your head, giving him a raised eyebrow, trying to prompt him to elaborate on his line of thinking.
“When we start looking, lets try some subdivisions, yeah?” He said, clearly not planning to look for anything else.
“Why?” You asked, kind of surprised by his response. You knew he grew up in one but you had remembered he didn’t particularly like it.
”Safety reasons, most of ‘em are like gated communities, good security and stuff.” He shrugged like he hadn’t been researching them last night.
“I mean, I appreciate your concern for safety but I’m not super keen on having close neighbors.” You said, a slight grimace on your face as you cuddled up next to him while he ate.
“Well too bad, you’re gonna be the brunch mom and I’ll be the cul-de-sac cook-out dad.” He snorted, one cheek puffed up as he chewed his food. “It’ll be fine.”
You frowned, really not amused by his lighthearted response. This was your house too and you wanted input on where it was and what it looked like. You’d be spending hundreds of dollars on it each month in payments. It was baffling that Anakin was being so nonchalant and passive about finding the home you’d raise your kids in.
“I can hear you breathing like you’re annoyed.” He mumbled, tugging a lock of your hair.
“I am annoyed.” You huffed, swatting his hand away from your hair.
“Just give it a try, would you?” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “I wanna take a look at the layout and stuff. Most of those homes are built by the same contractors. They all have a similar layout.”
”I’m not asking you to just let me have full reign over it. Jesus, you’ll have your opinion considered.” He shook his head in irritation, not liking you were questioning his wishes.
“Look, even if you do hate the idea of living in a gated community, seeing the houses, floor plans, it’ll be good for getting ideas on the kind of place we want. You know?” He explained, trying to keep his voice on the encouraging side.
“I just don’t like that you want the decision making to be left up to you.” You muttered, sitting up and crossing your arms.
“Would you want a child in charge of house hunting?” He snapped at you, gesturing to your defensive posture.
“Tell me you didn’t just say that.” You glared at him.
“I said it and I meant it. Act like an adult and I’ll give you adult privileges; like having an opinion.” He said, tone snarky and frustrated. Obviously he hadn’t shook off all his shitty attitude.
”Maybe we’ll find a place you really love, you won’t know until we go looking. If you really fuckin’ hate the subdivision thing, maybe we can steal one of the house plans of a place you like and build elsewhere.” He said, grabbing you by the inner thigh to tug you back over to him, making sure you stay close despite being upset with him.
Diary Entry:
Can’t you just listen? God you were really pushing back on me today. I was giving you options and not a damn one of them was good enough.
I just want to be able to get a feel for the layout, alright? It’ll make my life easier. I’ll be able to touch the security system panel, familiarize myself with the physical version, rather than the digital diagram. I shouldn’t have to explain myself all the damn time. Act right.
