Your Secret's Safe With Us

Beautiful In Every Way

Later that morning, Padmé stepped downstairs to find breakfast cooking, done by her mother, Sola, and a helping Anakin.

"Good morning everyone," she announced, smiling softly.

Anakin turned around to look at her and stopped to stare. His cerulean eyes scanned over her, studying her.

Padmé stood across from him, her hair instead of her tight, natural curls, loose. Big, brunette curls framed her face. Her makeup was done perfectly, black wings lining her eyes and long, thick eyelashes with a thin layer of clear gloss on her lips. Her dress was a high-low dress, the back of the pleated skirt reaching her calves and the front of it above her knees. Finishing off her outfit, she wore neutral-color open-toed platform heels on her feet and around her neck was the japor charm Anakin had given her years ago.

It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

"Good morning, Anakin," she said, snapping him out of his sudden daze. She sauntered past him, her chamomile scent lingering behind.

"Morning," he replied, watching her walk by.

After breakfast, Anakin and Padmé rose to collect the dishes from the table as everyone scattered off to their usual leisure activities.

When Padmé reached the sink, she picked up one of the pieces of silverware that laid at the bottom and extended her hand for the soap bottle, but someone had already claimed it.

Padmé turned to see Anakin standing behind her. "I can take over. You go and do whatever else you have to do."

"No, it's alright. I've got it, Anakin."

"Please, allow me."

"Anakin, really, it's alright." Padmé laughed and turned back to the dishes. "I've got it." She reached for the soap bottle, which was in his hand, and fingers grazed his as he pulled it away.

Her cheeks turned pink and she held her hand out for the bottle. "Please, can I have it?"

"How about I just help you do the dishes," Anakin suggested, taking a plate and scrubbing it with the sponge.

"Alright," Padmé agreed, taking the soap bottle from him and using it for another dish.

Over and over, they tossed it back and forth, using it for all of the dishes in the sink, until they were all washed.

As Anakin dried the dishes, he thought. He thought a lot about Padmé. He wished that while they were standing there, by the kitchen window, she would lace her arms around his waist, and he could turn around and embrace her, holding her close to him, kissing her forehead. Then she would take his face in her small hands and kiss his lips softly, and he would kiss her back.

He looked up, out the window and gazed out at the meadows. He remembered how they played out in the grass, and he held her in his arms, laughing with her as they rolled around on the land.

Anakin smiled to himself, wishing that he could replay that moment over and over again. He loved Padmé so much, and he wanted her to love him back as much as he did her.

As he turned around to put the last dish away, he bumped into Padmé, who almost fell, but he caught her, juggling the plate and her in his hands so he wouldn't drop them.

"Sorry," he said apologetically, his face growing hot and the tips of his ears turned pink. He slid the dish into the cabinet and helped her back up, smoothing her skirt for her.

Padmé laughed, her hand around the back of Anakin's neck. She let go and smiled, adjusting Anakin's collar. "Don't worry about it. It was no big deal." She leaned in by his ear. whispering, "I'm sorry for this morning. I just panicked and... I didn't mean to put you in the spotlight. I'm sorry."

She pulled away, smiling, and walked off toward the living room to spend time with her family. Anakin watched her until she disappeared, specifically paying attention to her gait and the way she walked.

Everything about Padmé was beautiful, and one day, Anakin hoped, she would be his to keep.