𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱 || 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒𝟕: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬. ●

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WARNING: Smut. Oral sex (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, praise kink. Angst. Use of drugs; a joint (bro this is galactic weed, that's why it hits so quickly. Get into it). Smoking. Fluff. This is a rollercoaster, so buckle up. Also so damn long, I had to make up for my absence!

Oh and Anakin is a dumbass. But when is he not? love him

A/N: This chapter has been hunting me for the past 2 months. This arc was so difficult to put together, so please be kind lol. Also Phoenix is like a fragile bird so bare with our little intimidating badass lady <3 

Without further do, I present to you the latest chapter of Phoenix!

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Phoenix's POV

I entered one of the stalls, maneuvering my way into hovering the WC without messing up my dress. The relief soon came after I let go of all of the champagne I drank tonight. In the middle of taking care of my bladder and examiniting the tile of the bathroom, something shiny fell on the side of my shoe.

—Oh, pardon me! I'm a clutz. —The voice in the stall on my side squealed.

—No worries. Here. —Before handing in the item, I saw that it was one piece of a pair of earrings. It was a very nice one, that even got me a little jealous given that it was a pure diamond.

—I thank you for your kindness. —The femme voice thanked me and briefly squeezed my hand when I delivered the accessory. —I'm sorry, I'm just really tense today... I need to think about something else. How do you even have the last collection of Manolo Blahniks?

Meeting a fellow fashion enthusiast was always a pleasant experience.

—Ohh, I can't reveal that secret, but thank you for noticing! —After finishing my business, we opened the doors in unison. — I'm not usually surrounded with people who understand-

Oh, fuck me.

—The same happens to me. I don't usually discuss clothes with anyone, but it's secretly a passion of mine. It's just that it is such a form of self expression and cultural representation, sadly overlooked... Am I talking too fast? I'm afraid I got a little too enthusiastic.—She huffed, hurrying to wash her hands, furiously pressing on the soap dispenser.

Of all the people who needed to pee at the same time as me, it just had to be her, didn't it?

Padmé Amidala.

What are the chances?

—Totally got you. —I muttered, slowly getting out of my stall and walking to the sinks as well, keeping my guard up.

It made me feel even worse when she smiled at me through the adjacent mirror and I could see how pretty she was... and how thrilled she was to see me.

—But would you look at you? You're stunning, I-I love that dress! Is that a... — And as she tried to guess who designed it, I took my time to inspect her closely.

She was chatty, but not overwhelming, just specially gifted in the social department.

She was pretty, but not in a stereotypically manner; she just had every asset that would make her essentially beautiful; clear skin, nice teeth, healthy hair, pretty nails.

She was kind, without being mistaken as fake. And low-key funny. Not cackling kind of funny... but witty.

Yeah, the girl was a catch.