Guilty Thoughts

Hands slick with icy sweat, the tightened his grip on the smooth handle, fighting the juddering vibrations. He brought the Sabre down, cutting the stale air his swift precision, muscles taut and strained to keep his hold poised.

This was his release. The release from the constant battle of feeling and thought that merged with difficulty deep within himself. The Force could not touch those parts of him, for they were his most personal reflections, and no one and nothing would ever glimpse those secrets. So instead he stood in silence, intent only on the dancing light, working on the only skills he was ever recognised for.

Not thinking about Padme. Oh no… he would not let himself. He had her… she was as much his and he was hers. So why was he still unnerved by the very thought of seeing her again. Their sordid secret excited him, just the hint of it brought a burning sensation up from the pit of his stomach, he was high on the adrenaline of it all.

But every glance that he stole of the girl caused another reaction in him, and if excitement could only be measured, he already knew this thrill was more overwhelming than any of feeling he could bear.

She had watched him from a distance, admiring the dancing silhouette on the ground that stretched beyond his exuberant stance. The flair of his robes with every movement, the gentle exposure of his slender waist as the fabric billowed behind him, before shrouding him once again.

If a Jedi's clothes were suited for battle, she did not see how… His uniform of black clung to him, hair damp with perspiration, those intense eyes heavily shadowed by a brow fixed in concentration. She subsided back against the cold glass, perched on the edge of the sill, patiently watching his every move.

If he was irritated by her presence, he did not show it, and she was brought out of her silent reverie by the snapping off of light from his sabre. She straightened up as he approached, tucking his sabre back in the holster of his belt, eyeing her thoughtfully before joining her.

He arched his back with a small sigh, his head tilted backwards, and she was struck with the ache to run the tips of her fingers along the exposed silken skin of his throat.

But she did not. Scolding herself inwardly for the mere thought of such contact, she did not see the sly glance he caught of her.

'How old are you Imelda?'

She jumped at the use of her name, before automatically responding 'I was seventeen when they took me…'

He sat up straight, his mind blank for a second, before pushing her further 'Who took you?'

She responded with a shrug, seemingly unconcerned, averting her gaze from him to the stone floor and admiring the shadow of their profile's. So close.

Seventeen. Her body was little more defined than that of a youngling, from what he could make out. But from this angle, her lips were pouted in a seemingly innocent fashion, and it took more self control than he had thought intended not to lean closer and meet that pout with his own kind.

Stop it Anakin. What are you thinking? You can not follow your thoughts to conclusion.

There, that sharp pain he managed to numb for the majority of his conscious thought, had struck with intensity once again. Padme. Are you thinking of me? Would you blame me for this? Of course you would.

'I haven't seen the stars for so long' Imelda had spoken. He was sure of it. So he turned his attention back to her, to find that she was gazing out at the misted sky. 'Come with me…' he prompted, somehow finding her hand and leading her toward the tall door. Her robes rippled in the forceful wind, and she stood a little closer to him in the chill, teeth chattering slightly.

'It's so…' words could not describe her joy of the view. Anakin dutifully slipped an arm around her, as she was shivering uncontrollably, and he had not prepared himself for her to lean her head on his shoulder. Her hair whipped his face in the airstream, but he ignored it, shifting his stance to accommodate her weight.

What would Obi-Wan say. In the space of a very short time Anakin had allowed such contact with this girl. He would not be pleased. He never was.

'Thank you…'

'For what?'

'Helping me… taking me away from them.'

He swallowed hard, aware of her arms encircling his waist.

'It's my duty…'

Perhaps her embrace had lessened at these words.

Author's Note: My updates will vary… depends when I feel satisfied with a chapter…