Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈
IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG FOR ASTRID TO FIGURE OUT WHERE THE SUPPOSED SEPARATIST CONSPIRACY PROOF MAY BE HELD. When she found Clovis, she also found Senator Dod and Lord Poggles circling a hologram. Unfortunately, before she could even spot its contents, the red hologram was prompt shut off and Clovis's sweet talk had hit her full force.
He insisted that she got ready for dinner while they finished discussing their business. One thing was for sure, neither of them was good at keeping things on the down low, even a child could sniff out suspicious behavior.
"Need help," Anakin's voice echoes in the giant bathroom. The walls were a beautiful white stone with gold and red touches, the Cato Neimoidians were quite good with interior design.
Astrid scoffs, looking at Anakin through the mirror, "I haven't even taken the outfit off the hanger yet." Anakin, however, had zoned out the second he saw her. His eyes trailed over her barely clothed body as she stood with her back to him in nothing but a bra and underwear.
The girl rolls her eyes playfully, she had almost forgotten she was mad at him. Before she knew it, Anakin had caged her in, both hands leaning on the counter on either side of her. Astrid turned around so they were face to face with a raised eyebrow.
Anakin's lips twitch downwards at her less-than-pleased face. It killed him that Astrid was still mad at him, he needed her to hug him, reassure him, anything but be mad. A small whine falls from his lips, his head dropping to bury into the crook of her neck, "I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me."
Astrid felt a pull at her heart. The small whine that had fallen from Anakin's soft lips made her stomach stir. She loved when he was like this, but this was the wrong time for it. But she couldn't stop him from entering this headspace, she didn't have the heart to. He only ever was like this when he needed reassurance, comfort, and her touch. It was something only she could pull him out of.
"Ani, it's alright," she wraps her arms around her neck, one hand running through his soft damp locks. Astrid knew that this was bound to happen at some point. Although he presented himself as a tough, scared-of-nothing, Chosen One, with his mommy issues, he was bound to need that constant reassurance she provided, and when he didn't get it, he'd get whiney.
