this is a disclaimer.
canonization
It's the middle of the night when she finally reaches the lake house, and the first thing she does is run upstairs to their bedroom – let him still be here let us have more time don't let him have thought I couldn't make it –
He's stretched out in their bed, shirtless, bootless, fast asleep, vulnerable as only she has ever seen him.
Padmé stops in the doorway to just admire for a few minutes. The cut of his hipbones (has he been eating enough?), the deep hollows under his eyes, the messy hair (could do with a trim), the shadowing of a new scar across his right shoulder, goosebumps rising on his flesh (why did he leave the window open?).
He's absolutely beautiful, and he's hers.
Every time she thinks about that, she gets a smug little tremor in her stomach.
She undresses as silently as she can, peeling off layer after layer of Senator Amidala and letting the poor woman lie in a crumpled heap on the floor until there's nothing left but Padmé, bending over her husband's sleeping form in a thin shift, drawing the pins out of her hair and putting them gently down on the bedside table. Anakin murmurs something in his sleep, shifts a little, eyelids fluttering. His left hand clenches in the sheets, and suddenly she's not so sure he's having pleasant dreams anymore.
Padmé reaches out to wake him, hand hovering over his shoulder, and freezes, remembering her father's stories about the veterans of the Chefell conflict twenty years ago, how it was never a good idea to sneak up on them, to wake them unexpectedly –
Oh, ridiculous. This is Anakin. He'd die before he hurt her, even unintentionally.
She gives herself a shake and looks down at Anakin again, fully intending to draw him out of his dreams (good or bad) with a touch and a kiss, but he's already awake, gazing up at her with a slightly befuddled look that's just adorable.
Padmé grins. "Are you an angel?"
His eyes clear at last, and he grins back, crooked and lazy. She realises he's probably got an excellent view down the front of her shift, and bites down on her bottom lip, heat and tension coiling in her stomach.
Anakin has never made a secret of how much he likes to look at her.
"What?"
"An angel," she explains. "I've heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They live on the moon of Iego, I think."
He's trying not to laugh now. "You're a funny little girl."
"Little girl?" Padmé says, and swings a leg over his thighs. "That's a little creepy, considering what I have in mind for you for the rest of the weekend."
Anakin wraps his hands around her hips and arches his shoulders off the bed a little, getting more comfortable. "Try the next two weeks, my love."
"Two weeks?" disbelievingly.
He nods, eyes sparkling.
Padmé laughs triumphantly and sweeps down to kiss him.