A/N: requested by sadstrarwarsfan14 <33
Warnings: self harm, self hate, swearing, cutting, descriptions of poverty, violence, blood, suicidal thoughts,
Word count: 581 (i can't write obi wan 😭)
You're exhausted. Your head is spinning, the spice traders are back on Tatooine, and you can barely walk in a straight line you're so exhausted. It's the type of bone deep tiredness that makes you wonder if you'll ever be free of it, of the constant struggle to keep it at bay. Because it's not just due to your lack of sleep, it's also due to your sky diving self worth as every day, you walk through Mos Eisley and see things you can't fix - children begging on the street, their parents barely whisps of skin and bone, teenagers limping around with bruises marring their flesh, dark eyed men with rusting blasters, the infernal Hutts parading around on their litters while the poor die day by day.
Every morning, you wake up and stare at your empty eyes and hollow cheeks in the mirror.
And then you glance at the razor by the sink and turn away, forcing yourself to walk away, to turn your back on the tempting gleam of savage metal and appear in your workshop.
But not today. No, today, your forearms are wrapped in crimson soaked white, your face pale. You're so tired you can barely remember if you hid the razor, so tired that you wish you had cut deeper, let the blood well up and drip onto the floor until you're drained dry. But you're too weak. You can't do it, can't end your pain.
There's a small part of you that is glad that you haven't ended yourself yet, because Obi-Wan arrives home every day, his eyes gentle as he embraces you and comforts you, supports you as you tell him of how much it all hurts. He's in the 'fresher right now, probably getting the Tatooine sand off him before he joins you.
The door opens, and you wince as light shoots into the dark room. Hiding your eyes under your arm, you groan and roll over, pulling the sleeves of your shirt over your wrists instinctively. And then he says your name, and you know he knows. Sitting up, you glance over at him, and glimpse the razor he holds in his hands, your blood dried on it, staining the silver metal with rusty brown.
You turn away from his insistent blue eyes. 'I - I'm sorry, Obi.'
You hear the clink as he sets the razor down by the sink, and then his soft footsteps as he crosses the room. The mattress dips as he sits down on the bed and gathers you in his arms, and you feel yourself unravel, coming apart as he holds you. You bury your face in his chest, trembling as tears start pricking at your eyes.
'I'm sorry, Obi. I - I couldn't help it. I didn't want to - to tell you, you were so proud and - '
'It's okay,' he murmurs, kissing your hair. 'I'm not angry, my love. Just tell me what I can do to help.'
You cling onto him, breaths coming out in desperate pants as you hide your face in his shoulder. His heart beats against your hand, pressing into your palm, and you feel yourself shaking as he reaches up, interlocking his fingers into yours. A shuddering sob squeezes from your throat, and you feel as if the weight of the Dune Sea has been lifted from your chest as he kisses your knuckles, careful not to touch your bandaged wrists.
'Just - just keep on doing what you're doing,' you whisper. 'Please.'
YOU ARE READING
Star Wars Guys x Reader
FanfictionIncludes: Anakin Skywalker, Cassian Andor, Kylo Ren, Darth Maul, Cad Bane, Rex, Would include the Mandalorian but I kind of already have a book on him ;) Also Star Wars obviously doesn't belong to me.
