Katie ran down the stairs, trying to hold back her skirt with one hand. THUMP - THUMP - THUMP - THUMP - Down the stairs, down the hall and out of sight. Some few minutes later she was back, still trying to keep her balance at a hectic pace. THUMP - THUMP - THUMP - THUMP - Back up the stairs, down that hall… Bursting into the room, she smiled in a very out-of-breath way at a sulky Mel. "Yes. He says you have to go."

Mel raised her eyes without raising her eyes, glowering at her friend in the patented 'Death Glare' method. "Gah… I hate him sometimes." She kicked the wall. "Did he say whether-"

"Yes. He did. Red dress, and if you don't look presentable enough he says he'll make you live in the vents." Katie brushed off her skirt, more as an unconscious habit than anything, and started to leave.

"Where are you going?"

Katie tossed a reply of "To let you change in peace," Before closing the door in her friend's face. Its not like she could actually explain…

THUMP - THUMP - THUMP - THUMP - down the stairs yet again, though this time at a more reasonable speed. There was a curve at the bottom, and she peered around it rather anxiously.

"I was wondering if you were going to leave without stopping by," He commented nonchalantly, leaning against his door.

She blushed, feeling utterly predictable. But that wasn't a new revelation, she'd always been somewhat easy to second-guess and reliably pathetic at times. It was odd, really, the sorts of things that crossed her mind in the minutes before they were swept away by emotion and feeling. She supposed it was a subconscious heart-heart rebellion, trading off dominion of her head. Which was a rather stupid way to put it, or so she thought, but then again coherency was not her strong suit and never had been.

He reached out to play with a strand of hair that had worked itself free of the elaborate upsweep. "You look lovely." He wasn't just being 'blinded by love' (or the light). She did actually look rather nice, with her dress and the various shiny things at her ears, throat and wrists. She was dressed to impress, as the occasion Mel was rebelling against was a formal luncheon with some aristocratic young ladies.

She blushed, crinkling up her nose. Its not that she didn't like compliments; it's just that he was much too serious when he gave them. It was hard to keep eye contact as well. His gaze was simply too intense when it rested upon her, as much a tangible heat across her skin than anything.

He laughed at her, at the awkwardness of the situation. "No, really. You do." His hand dropped to her chin, and he gently fingered her jawbone. "I'm afraid I'll smudge it."

She laughed a bit as well, moving in to rest her hands against his chest. "I don't care…" Looking up for once, she let their eyes meet.

He obliged. The newly bared skin at her shoulder blades felt shockingly intimate, as it was usually covered by her Jedi robes. She was shivering agreeably, as though she thought so as well. The beautiful moment had to be ruined sometime, and it rather promptly was.

THUMP - THUMP - THUMP - THUMP - Mel was thundering down the stairs, clearly pissed off. They sprang apart, Katie assuming the air of an obediently listening padawan.

"Katie! What are you doing? We'll be late!" She yelled, yanking on her friend's arm. Katie gave her Master a quick, half-apologetic bow before letting herself be dragged off.

Anakin was left standing there, leaning against his wall. He was looking unaccountably happy, as far was one could infer from his satisfied smirk. He loved her, he really did, but everything would be so much simpler if her friend merely did not exist.

- - -

Mel stomped up the stairs yet again, absolutely furious. The lunch had not gone well at all, and it would have made her much happier if she'd simply been able to carve out their throats with the cocktail spoons.

It had started out civilly enough, with dainty little sandwiches, and lots of overly sweet mixed drinks. The girls had been nice enough… until they'd all been left alone. Then they'd shown their true colors, being passive-aggressively nasty and making some (rather well thought-out) but extremely vicious double entendres.

She stamped overly hard on the last step. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who's view) she caught her dress beneath her foot. So when she straightened with such violence, the hem tore with a (strangely satisfying) but very loud RIP. She stopped dead, standing stock-still, as she gazed at the foot-long gash in the lower edge of the hated dress. There was an acute silence for some moments as her mind tried to work around this sudden roadblock.

"AHHH!" She screamed suddenly, giving vent to the sudden surge of frustration. Storming into her room, she yanked off the dress savagely, and proceeded to tear the thing apart. It was a rather fortunate thing that Katie had already vacated the room, or else she would have been in danger.

Mel worked methodically, anger suddenly icy calm. Starting at the bottom she wielded the razor with calm efficiency, artfully turning the entire thing into something resembling a red paper snowflake. The whole skirt section was the easiest to destroy, as it was relatively thin. The bodice was a bit more difficult, and she had to abandon the trusty razor in favor of some sharp scissors. It was a wonder she hadn't hurt herself, hands a flesh and silver blur as she worked.

The systematic destruction was more catharsis than mindless release. It felt good to pour out all over her pent-up raging frustration into this, to tear and tear at fabric, and to feel it give beneath her hands. It would have been even better to burn the monstrosity when she was done, to see her work curl and smoke as it went up in a crackling sheet of flame.

But she collapsed backwards when she finally finished, feeling suddenly empty with her anger spent. As it fell silent she realized she'd been laughing madly, nearly screaming. Now all she could hear was her ragged breathing, and the slow hiss of the opening door-

Spinning around, she saw Obi-wan standing in her doorway. His expression looked frozen, as though he had no idea what to make of the situation. "Melissa!"

She looked up at him, guiltily, like a child caught in a wrongdoing by a parent. "Yes Master?"

For once, he was utterly without words. He'd simply never thought this was a situation that would ever occur, and so had no idea what to really do about it. Such giving in to emotions was bad, but that she'd basically rebelled against the 'establishment' (Empire) was a good thing. But such brazen disobedience should not be tolerated at all, ever, even though he felt it justified. "To be honest, I have no idea what to do with you. So if you'd spend the next hour or so in the vents, and our of sight, I might be able to decide."

Mel nodded, feeling that this might be for the better as well. She brushed past him, turning at the last moment to bow. Every little bit helped, and the happier he was with her manners the less likely he was to throw her against a wall. Not that he would. Obi-wan was a gentleman. Just a rather vindictive one.