Pairing: Anakin/Padme.
Timeline: Sometime during the war.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or its characters. No copy right infringement is intended.
Warnings: Hints/allusions/mentions to/of sex.
Notes: While this is in third person, this is Anakin's views.
Anakin Skywalker may be many things but he loved his wife.
No matter who he was or what this war did to him, he was determined to come home to her.
He loved everything about her, even her imperfections.
When he's away and tempted to find solace wherever he can get it, he'll remember nights with her. Nights spent exploring her body and its responses, nights spent forgoing slow and steady for fast and rough.
Days spent fighting back to back with Obi-Wan reminded him however faintly of days spent giving each other the cold shoulders even as he felt her defenses crumble.
He enjoyed the way she weakened around him. How she dropped her senatorial airs and relaxed. She was tough and wouldn't give an inch unless compromise was reached but Anakin always won without her actually knowing it.
He loved the way she walked when she was sure no else but him was watching, how her defenses lowered until he could slip between them easily. He practically glowed when his hands slid over her smooth flesh to bring her pleasure.
And at night, when his eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire, Padme always swore his eyes were breathtakingly amber. She quietly confessed it scared her and he laughed it off like he did whenever he thought she was being silly. She always said he was a little rough than but he hushed her, kissing her forehead as though she were a petulant child to be put to bed.
Her eyes shone with defiance than and Anakin could have sworn his soul sang in answer to a challenge that wasn't really there.