Ezra’s teeth were crooked.
It couldn’t be helped; his parents had been taken away before he’d lost all of his baby teeth, and orphaned street rats don’t exactly have the luxury of worrying if their smiles are perfectly straight. He ended up with prominent canines that were set far apart, almost too wide for his mouth. He had a small chip in his front tooth, the one that sat a little higher than the other. His lower incisors overlapped like a hand of sabacc cards.
And yet his smile was one of the most beautiful things Kanan had ever seen.