strongvoice.

            to her, the force is a furnace. she doesn’t reach in to tend the flames because she doesn’t have to, they’re inaccessible. her connection is solid but distant enough that padme can’t do the flashy things she’s read of other force sensitive people doing. for better or worse she is WEAK in the practical applications. the force is a companion in her flesh, forcing blood to flow like a second heart and spurring her to survive even when her own will to live has left her WANTING

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            precognition had rarely served her well, while visions and dreams were malleable the world around them wasn’t ready for the idea that people could have knowledge of bad things before they happened. at fourteen she’d spent two days in custody after warning someone about an earth quake that would later kill them.   ( palpatine had rescued her, his grip tight around her small fingers as he said that this was why she WASN’T to talk to visitors to the compound. )

            she cards her fingers through her short hair.

            still feels palpatine’s grip on her wrist and deep breaths. now, she’s safe. spectres can’t hurt her. spirits can’t take shape. she forces her attention back to the conversation at hand.

            and really she can’t tell if that’s more reason to call him ani or not to. used to call him that. estranged at best. at worst   ——   padme doesn’t make the guess, she doesn’t want to be right. instead she reaches over to let her fingers brush the back of his hand and has to pull away from the force of his emotion. she hopes she plays it off well enough.

             “ani. you’re cute, has anyone told you that?”

               ANAKIN SHUFFLES SEVERAL packets of sugar into his cup, && then sets the stirring spoon to circle with a gentle touch of the Force. Obi-Wan would have scolded him for his ‘frivolous’ use of magic, but he can’t help but show off a little in front of Padme. Especially after learning that there’s another Force-sensitive working right next door to him. Cream would’ve been nice as well, but he’s far too busy staring at Padme to be picky.

     Cute? Anakin staunches the impulse to clear his throat, though Padme seems to be taking his awkwardness for due homage. && she’s right to, isn’t she? He hasn’t tripped over his own tongue this many times since he first wandered into Obi-Wan’s shop. && even then his flirtations were served with a sarcastic edge; prodding && poking fun at the older man for humoring so many of the wide-eyed neopagan teenagers that come wandering into his shop. 

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     ❝ && you’re an ángel. ❞ He says with the sharp, slanting dialect of his homeland. Anakin cards his fingers through his hair, defenseless against the hot flutter in the pit of his stomach. Energizing as it is absurd, taut pulse beating faster in his throat. It’s been so long since he’s done this with anyone. With Obi-Wan it was easy, like a puzzle piece falling into place he didn’t even know he had room for. But this is different; something frenzied && burning, setting his nerve endings alight. Like he might go up in flames if he doesn’t get closer. Like he might anyways.

     ❝ Do you want to go out with me? Not for coffee because— ❞ He makes a rough noise && gestures to their surroundings. ❝ But, uh, dinner? ❞

 
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independent & private roleplay blog for anakin skywalker/darth vader of all star wars media. written by scout. || est. feb 2016.