It is the first smile he believes he's seen from her that is true, reaching her eyes, and Obi-Wan is glad for it. There will always be shadows hiding in her eyes, he thinks, and the same is true for himself. But together, perhaps they can teach each other how to smile easily again.

He listens attentively as they prepare dinner, and while they eat he shares his own stories. Nothing from the present, because, he tells her, "Take my word for it, nothing of significance happens where I live, and the only time I see anyone, it is very much by my own choice." But he tells her anecdotes from his days as a Padawan; instances that, as snapshots from his life, don't dwell too heavily on Jedi training, the Force, or any other context besides perhaps cultural differences. Most of these stories, of course, have him as the butt of the joke, but he's learned to tell them in such a way as to invite others to laugh with him, instead of at him.

It is a good evening, and while he plans on staying at least a few days longer, Obi-Wan finds himself mentally extending his visit by a day or two, over and over. He doesn't want to leave.

Want, unfortunately, has never been a luxury he's been allowed to indulge.