Padmé rolled over in her sleep. They had been so close, her and Obi-Wan. How many nights had she dreamed of him, sometimes even when she was laying next to someone else? How many times had she imagined him coming to her? How many times had she wished to see him again?
Padmé only had one regret in her life and that was not allowing herself to be with her former lover. After Qui Gon died though, she knew someone needed to train Anakin.
But now she didn't know if jedi powers were the right call for him. The almost predatory way he looked at her was terrifying. He kept watching her like she was something for him to eat. Obi-Wan had to have sensed it, or maybe he was too close.
Her mind went to his appearance, the beard made her smile. If only his face weren't covered. She'd loved to trace that sharp jawline, press kisses to his neck... And if she kissed him his whiskers would scratch her. Did he feel the same as he had? It didn't seem like it.
By the time the sun had come up, Padmé hadn't slept at all. But it seemed Anakin hadn't either. As much as he frightened her now, he was still just a child, and he shouldn't have to lose his mother, not when he could stop it.
That was why she'd agreed to go to Tattooine. And now, in her ship, Padmé watched as artoo played the message from Obi Wan. Her heart constricted as she saw him in danger, was he alright? Was he even still alive?
Anakin didn't seem to care. Even the protest of "he's your friend" fell on deaf ears. Well screw him, she was going to save Obi Wan. It was her ship, Anakin could rot here on Tattooine.
He elected to come with her.