𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 || 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝟎𝟎𝟔 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

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❝𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘚𝘩𝘮𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘘𝘶𝘪-𝘎𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. ❞

❝𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘴. ❞

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»»-----------►Ｃｌａｒｉｓｓé

𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘, I was not a fan of the countless pounds of sand Tatooine had to offer as our group trudged across the whipping and flying grains in the air.

Padmé sheltered me slightly, keeping one arm over her face and the other over mine as I lifted up my own cardigan to shield the both of us. Artoo also kept close to me, wanting to protect me as much as possible.

Our group moved towards a homely little community of hovels, no doubt where the slaves of Tatooine lived.

Anakin led us to one hovel sitting at the bottom of the rest of them. I assumed this to be the Skywalker residence.

The Skywalker with us quickly pressed the button next to the door to allow us entry, the button hissing a tad when his palm made contact with it.

The orange, metallic door slid open with some difficulty, and I frowned at the poor condition the slaves of Tatooine had to live in. It saddened me that I was living the high life in Naboo, and someone like Anakin, who was good and pure at heart, was living life for someone else. It wasn't fair.

The little boy led the way into his home, shaking his head a little to get out the unwanted grains of sand in his dirty blonde hair. I did the same when I entered the hovel, taking my milk chocolate braids and shaking them with vigor. I brushed through my fluffy bangs with my peach colored fingers after that, the action almost putting me to sleep with how comforting it was.

After we had all entered the hovel, Anakin called out, "Mom! Mom! I'm home!"

"Dissen cozy," Jar Jar stated as he burrowed himself against a wall for more warmth. I fought the sudden urge to giggle at his face when he shuddered in delight at the feeling of the wall pressed against his back. It must have been warm from the sun beating down on it whenever the door opened.

From the archway towards the back of the hovel, a middle aged woman walked through it, holding some sort of wash bin in her pale hands.

She was beautiful, but worn down, with dark brunette hair tied up in a tight bun, little strands escaping the tight bond. Her kind eyes were dark, like Padmé's and Indirá's, but the woman in front of me had a special spark in her warm, maternal irises.

It was soft, yet determined, as if she had unfinished business to take care of. I already admired her, even though I had just set eyes on her for the first time.

I immediately knew this was Anakin's mother.

"These are my friends, Mom," Anakin introduced as he gently grabbed my cool hand, his warm one encasing mine in perfect harmony.

My friend pulled me right next to him, right in his mother's line of sight, although I didn't mind. Her eyes made me feel warm inside, and they weren't intrusive eyes, unlike some politicians I knew on Naboo.

The mother of my only friend smiled at me with kindness and affection seeping through her stressed out face when her dark eyes landed right on my vibrant green ones.