Lucky Ones

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AN: Hope you're having a great summer. We've finally come to the end of this story. Thank you to everyone who went on this journey with me xoxo 

Lucky Ones

"Palpatine."

Anakin went on to explain everything. Everything Palpatine had told him; all the details of their lives that Palpatine clearly followed, through the actions of detective Cody, Clovis, and Jango.

Padme sat on the couch listening to him. Her fingers curled, laying idle in her lap. She didn't show much emotion but on the inside she was vexed at the name Palpatine. A name that injected so much poison into the world.

As he continued to speak, the sorrow, guilt, and mournfulness of his eyes passed into her. The pang of hurt was shared, honest, but manageable. Maybe even good and solvable. But she saw the guilt his body carried, not wavering, even after he had unloaded his secrets, experiences, and sense of defeat. His explanations and introspections tasted sour.

His shrinking world was a record of his journey. The relief, and release from this so-called prison, still cried out as if it was strangling and lonely. His face had lost its fire, its color in the moment of silence after he had finished. She didn't respond yet. She needed to let the truth breathe just as the sea must be rocked, must heave and wave.

Before she could say anything, Luke cried out from the crib, disrupting the paralyzing overthinking they had both almost seeped into.

"Do you want me to–" check on him, Anakin ended in his head.

"No, that's okay."

Anakin watched as Padme tucked Luke back in gently. Her fingers employed the neatness of subtlety, moving like a feather. Luke could not feel the weight. Sleep covered his whining and whimpering, and night surrounded the crib, making Luke fall asleep soundly far beneath the level of storms. Storms which were developed and fought by the same people. Anakin and Padme were a ship choked by their own sails and hit by the rocks they formed.

Padme passed through the bedroom doorframe where Anakin waited. They could do nothing but stand and stare at each other. They looked the same in outward appearance but the eyes revealed how incomplete they were. The chameleon face of the world had left them on ever-shifting ground, never able to adjust to the change.

"I'll get going." Anakin decided. It came across polite, yet Padme found herself annoyed by the lack of intimacy. It seemed fake, an anonymous vision, a game that shouldn't be played.

"No." She practically rolled her eyes. "Stay. I'll make up the couch."

Padme awoke not from the cry of babies but to the sound of her phone ringing. Her eyes opened so suddenly, her vision was veiled by watery eyes trying to see through curtains of a sea. It made her two eyelids move lazily to close and open, trying to remove the blurriness with repeated swipes of the eyelashes. As she sat up in bed to answer the call, her big, fluffy duvet moved down her body, swimming over her legs.

"Sabe?" She was surprised at the name that illuminated over her home screen.

"Is this a bad time?" The voice of her best friend didn't come through with its usual full stride. There was something awkward and unsettling as she waited for distant sounds of connection. Padme too wanted to search for lost colors and sounds of their friendship.

"No."

"I know we haven't spoken in a while. I've heard a lot has changed... I'm just glad you and the twins are alright."

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