"You've been avoiding me." It wasn't an accusation, more of a statement of fact, an accurate observation. They were sitting next to each other at the table whilst her mother served up dinner. Padme was highly attuned to the distinct Anakin smell that perforated from him; grease and oil and sweat mixed with freshly washed hair, and soap and mint toothpaste. It was heady and delicious and dangerous and made the hairs on the back of Padme's neck stand up just a little.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she lied, keeping her eyes focused on her mother, on the plate before her, on a petulant fly that perched on the wall in an attempt to sneak its way onto the bread rolls. Anywhere but him.
"You're not very good at lying." She could hear the amusement in his voice. His hand touched hers gently, making her jump and turn to look at him, fire licking up her sensitive skin. "Padme," he began, soft and apprehensive and concerned, "if I've done something to offend you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Anakin was sincere. It melted her resolve a little. As much as he enjoyed teasing her, it was obvious that he didn't want to upset her; or at least, he regretted upsetting her. It became clear that he wanted to remain her friend, or whatever it was they were.
She smiled at him sweetly and said, "you haven't done anything wrong, Ani." The honey-sweetness of her words and the use of his nickname soothed his worries and he grinned back at her, this time free of any flirtation or suggestiveness. It was an innocent smile, warm and tender and somewhat affectionate, and it had a different even on Padme, yet just as powerful all the same.
Dinner was pleasant; her mother had done well and served quite a feast. She continually offered Anakin extra helpings to which he politely declined, and Padme was relieved that he wasn't flirting with her in front of her family, even though his knee would brush against hers under the table, innocently, purposefully, and she would swallow uneasily in an attempt to control her emotions. It was going well, she admitted, but regrettably too soon, as she hadn't anticipated her sister.
The entire evening, her sister had been watching the two of them, much to Padme's frustration, with a little snide grin on her face. Although Sola was thirty-three, Padme was beginning to wonder if she was actually the older one, not her sister.
"So, Anakin," Sola queried across the table. He looked up, expectantly, and Padme felt a pit grow in her stomach. "What do you do?"
He paused, swallowed, dangling his fork deftly, gracefully, between two long, calloused fingers, before answering, "I'm an apprentice mechanic."
"Ani wants to be an engineer," Shmi Skywalker added from the end of the table, smiling at her son, pride in her eyes.
"That's a noble goal," Bail Organa nodded. "A respectable career, and well paying too, if I might add."
Anakin remained silent throughout the conversation, picking at his peas idly with his fork. Padme felt sorry for him, he was obviously embarrassed but didn't want to say anything.
"Not too bad with the women, either," Sola added cheekily, winking at her husband, who was, in fact, an engineer himself. "Though, I'm sure that's never been a problem for you."
It was this particular remark, from her older sister, that made Padme groan internally, and she shot Sola a threatening glare from across the table. She wanted to crawl under the table, head in her hands, and wait for all the guests to leave before she resurfaced. Beside her, Anakin didn't seem embarrassed by it at all. He seemed to enjoy it. He was smirking.
"No, not really," he agreed through a laugh, completely arrogant and cocky and oh, Padme wanted to slap him. "There's been a few, but I'm single at the moment." Define relationship, Anakin, she felt herself curse under her breath. Upon meeting him again, she had no doubt that he had probably had a string of girlfriends, flings and one-night stands. How could he not? He was undeniably attractive, and his insistent flirting could crumble even the strongest woman's resolve; she gritted her teeth at the thought. But it irritated her. He'd probably slept with hundreds of women and she'd only been with two other man before, her ex-boyfriend, Palo whom she'd met at a boarding school dance, and Rush Clovis. She felt so naïve.
