。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆
Normalcy.
It was a concept that prevailed in her mind more often than not. The monotonous routine of mediocracy, the repetitive nature of lifestyle, the reassurance of stability.
She would often imagine the dramaticness of change that would succumb to her periphery, if she had not been a notorious senator. Somedays, she was a teacher to younglings, enraptured in the development of their youth, a nurturer towards the next generation, a role model of kindness. Other days she was a painter, caught up amongst the flicks and swirls of her paintbrush, multitudes of illustrations and assortments of water colours creating a kaleidoscope. Or perhaps she was a measly gardener, sustaining the survival of cherry red tomatoes sprouting timidly from fertile soils, with the occasional specks of mud spurting on her cheek.
At that thought, she contained a humorous huff to herself at the incredulousness of the matter.
"What's so funny?" her husband asked with a raised brow.
The two were sitting within Padme's living room, the warmth from the evening sun glimmering against the magnanimous sculptures that stood starkly on the cream pillars, creating half shadows upon the room. An amber tint had enclosed the Coruscant skyline, signalling the bustle of the city as various spaceships hurriedly sped in altering directions.
Padme had taken to leaning against the arm of the couch, a scroll in hand, as she had been reviewing the notes of Senator Oregano's annotations regarding the recent assembly that took place. It seemed as though she had spaced out, as she had been staring at the same sentence for the past five minutes.
She promptly shifted her head to turn to look at Anakin, who was sat on the floor, seemingly hyper-fixated on fiddling with a peculiarly old fashioned droid box. Padme had definitively refused Anakin to work on his parts anywhere else, due to the vast amount of screws and scrap metal that was discerned throughout the process. The mess was overwhelming, to say the least.
"I was just thinking..." she started, peering at him curiously as to catch his attention.
"Hn" he turned back to his box, a furrow of concentration marring his gorgeous face, yet still acknowledging that he was listening.
"Do you ever think about what life would be like if I wasn't a senator...and you weren't a Jedi?" she pondered, gazing upon the back of his mane of locks.
He paused momentarily, before he replied "No I don't... because that would mean I would have never met you, and that's no life worth living".
Padme felt her face warm from the rawness of the confession, the conviction of his answer had her heart beating hard against her chest.
"That's not what I...I meant if we had known each other, just in different circumstances" she asked softly.
"Then I'd still be in love with you in every circumstance" he stated with a resoluteness that awed her.
Padme bit her lip to suppress the wide grin she was sporting. Occasionally, Anakin had a sort of pure, unadulterated form of honesty that was wholehearted and free. His ability at expressing unconditional love, regardless of the form, was a trait that was so natural, so effortless, it consumed Padme unwillingly. When Anakin felt a particular emotion, he felt it with his whole being, as if in large bursts if you will. Love was an emotion that was so enrapturing of his consciousness, it could easily swallow him whole.
"Heh...well if we were together in different circumstances, do you ever wonder how much easier it would be for us? We would never have to hide being married, we could actually do normal couple activities in public, invite friends for dinner...this secrecy would cease to exist".
