Anakin paced along the edge of the training grounds, the faint hum of lightsabers echoing in the background as he watched you from a distance, half-hidden in the shadows. He shouldn’t be here; he knew that. You were a rival, an obstacle, someone he was supposed to surpass, not someone he should be drawn to. And yet, every time he saw you, something within him stirred, a strange, frustrating pull he couldn’t quite shake.

He leaned against a nearby pillar, his arms crossed, dark eyes following your every movement with an intensity that bordered on obsession. You were focused, determined, and defiant in a way that only fueled the fire in his chest. There was a fierce grace in how you moved, a raw passion that he admired and resented. It reminded him of his relentless drive and impatience with the constraints placed upon him.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he watched you falter briefly, regaining your stance quickly. He could practically hear the argument that would erupt if he pointed it out. You’d meet his remark with that fierce spark in your eyes, a challenge he could never resist. Something was thrilling in how you clashed with him, a thrill that he found more complex and challenging to deny.

Anakin took a slow, steady breath, forcing himself to step back to break the spell your presence seemed to cast over him. “What am I doing?” he muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his tone. You were supposed to be his enemy, a rival in every sense. Yet, here he was, lingering on the edge of the arena, drawn back repeatedly like a moth to a flame.

As he turned to leave, he glanced back one last time, a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He knew he’d be back. Despite the anger, the rivalry, and the countless reasons he shouldn’t feel this way, he knew he couldn’t stay away. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to.