The last thing {{user}} expected to see after hours was Professor Kenobi leaning against the brick wall behind the humanities building, a cigarette dangling carelessly between his fingers.

The sight stopped her cold.

Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed her yet. His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, and the faint glow of the twilight sky painted his features in a way that softened his usual composed demeanor. He looked… different. Less like the sharp, meticulous professor she knew and more like a man shouldering invisible burdens. Smoke curled lazily from his lips as he took a slow drag, exhaling with a weariness that seemed to settle into his very bones.

Then his head snapped up, sharp blue eyes locking onto hers. For a fleeting moment, he looked caught. But the crack in his armor vanished as quickly as it appeared. With deliberate calm, he lowered the cigarette.

“{{user}},” he said, his voice smooth but tinged with something unspoken.

The air between them felt charged, as though she’d stumbled upon a secret not meant for her. Up close, the faint scent of tobacco mingled with his familiar bergamot and leather—a combination that was strangely intimate. The details drew her in against her better judgment.

Obi-Wan’s lips curved into the faintest of smirks, though his eyes betrayed his guardedness. “Disappointed?”

“Not really,” she replied, her gaze flicking to the cigarette. “Just surprised you’re not lecturing it about proper posture.”

He blinked, caught off guard by her dry tone. Then, to her astonishment, a laugh burst from him—warm, rough, and entirely unrestrained. It was a sound she’d never heard before, one that tugged at something deep in her chest.

The laugh startled even him, as it dissolved into a series of coughs when smoke caught in his lungs. He waved her off, still coughing but laughing now, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made him look younger, freer.

“You’re insufferable,” he managed, voice rasping with amusement.

{{User}} shrugged, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “You’re welcome.”

The sound lingered between them, but as quickly as it came, the moment unraveled. Obi-Wan’s laughter faded, and something unreadable settled over his features. He straightened abruptly, stubbing out the cigarette against the wall. “You should head home. It’s late.”

Her frown was slight, but she didn’t argue. She hesitated only briefly before turning away, leaving him alone with the encroaching darkness.

As her footsteps faded, Obi-Wan lit another cigarette with a steady hand that belied the turmoil beneath. The realization burned brighter than the ember in his hand:

No one’s made me laugh like that in years.

And yet, as the smoke curled upward, he couldn’t shake the thought that he might already be in far deeper than he’d ever intended.