The sun was high, and it shone upon the dwellers of the land below. The light cast shadows upon the trees that surrounded the meadows.
Palo was seated against an ancient boulder, his sketch pad upon his lap. His face was in a contorted look, as he hastily shaded in various parts. He seemed as though he were achieving his greatest piece of art in his life. Indeed, he was.
Plopped in the tall grasses was Padme herself. Her dearest friend thought her of as an angel in the simple blue sundress she wore. Her eyes shone, a grin fixed upon her lips.
"Are you done yet?" she mumbled, trying not to move too much. Palo squinted, as he was shading in the sky behind the portrait.
"…Just about…there, beautiful. But not as much as the original," he replied with a cheesy smile. She smiled, standing up and approaching him.
He quickly folded his sketchbook shut, setting it upon the boulder as he pushed himself off. Before he could speak once again, she had leapt upon him. The two fell to the ground, Padme on top of him.
"No injuries, please…" He gave her a cocky smile, as she shifted herself to his side.
"Nah, I don't feel like hurting you," she replied, as she nestled comfortably against him. Their eyes met, the two leaning towards each other.
It had become habit now, ever since that fateful morning. Palo had adjusted to being so close to her, and gladly accepted it. It became clearer how much he needed her, not just for love but also for support in everything.
He had been struggling in some of the classes for especially politics, and Padme had gladly served as his tutor.
He sighed, as he kissed her forehead. "What would I do without you?" he murmured. She tapped her chin, as she gazed up at him with those dark eyes that he could drown in.
"Hm, I don't know what I'd do without you either. Probably actually study for our upcoming test..." she said, crinkling her nose with a smile, resting her head upon his chest.
Palo grinned back. "You know how much I love your smile?" he said, cocking his head to the side slightly.
"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me..." Padme said, turning a bit pink.
"I do. It's one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. Its relaxed and playful, and your nose sort of crinkles when you do. It's adorable," he admitted, turning slightly pink as he'd never thought he'd actually say that out loud.
Padme smiled, still sort of pink. She looked down at his chest then back up at him, flattered. She immediately drew his lips to hers, enjoying every moment with him. Their relationship had strengthened greatly, much more like a bond than anything. She had never felt so connected to someone, and this connection was like no other.
It was as though his soul was linked to hers in a mysterious way. As a child, she had heard of bonds that Jedi formed. But she and Palo were not Jedi, so how was that possible? Either way, she could practically sense his emotions. And she was pleased to feel his happiness.
Palo ran his fingers through her hair, happily enjoying her company. They had always been close, like mere siblings. But now it was much deeper, as he thought the connection of a bird to the skies; inseparable.
The bird was always connected to flight, to the skies. Its true happiness is always with flight, and without flight, terrible sorrow plagues it. But when Padme and Palo were together, their "love bird" would soar.
Padme felt her love for him grow, flourishing faster than she had imagined. She pressed her lips against him once more, her heart taking over. Palo immediately drew her closer, surprising them both.
Palo kissed her feverishly. Astonished by the intensity of the kiss, Padme drew back tentatively and searched his (insert eye color here) eyes questioningly and quickly received the answer. In a move that both astounded Padme and Palo, Padme kissed him back and continued forward.
A little while later Padme lay next to Palo tracing small slow circles on his smooth, bare chest, Palo's arm draped across her shoulders.
"What're you thinking?" Padme whispered in the quiet, watching him as he stared upward at the sky lovingly.
"A lot. See, I constantly find myself seeking out the inner beauty of life. You know, plants, animals, anything, really…But I don't have to look hard for yours. You show it more radiantly than anyone I know," he murmered.
Padme blushed, though not noticeable in the pale moonlight. "Wow…Are you going from artist to author?" she asked, nuzzling her head against his chest. He laughed, biting his lip thoughtfully.
"Not exactly. You know, poetry IS another form of art. You've heard mine in class, they're awful," he replied, shaking his head in dismay.
"Not as bad as mine. I can only do 'Roses are read, violets are blue'. That's one of my flaws," she admitted. He furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head.
"Padme Naberrie has flaws? I don't think I've seen a better masterpiece myself," he said, grinning. She slapped his arm, rolling her eyes as he laughed.
"What did I do?" he asked, pretending to be horrified. Padme shook her head as she gazed over at him.
"You're such a pain."
"Why?"
Palo studied her as she thought carefully. He fought back a laugh, propping his head up on his elbow. She's so cute when she's thinking. The chin tapping does it…
"Because you laugh at me," she replied stubbornly after a few moments of silence. He leaned towards her, making a pouted face.
"So you can laugh at me, but I can't laugh at you?" he asked carefully. She nodded her head, fighting back laughter as he pretended to be upset.
"W-Well…that…That's just not fair! I thought you were all interested in democracy and politics," he retorted.
Padme was about to respond to him, but she heard the yells from the distance of parents calling. She winced, as she reached for her pile of clothing.
"Whoops…I'm past curfew again, and this time, Mom might ground me for a year…" she groaned. Palo shrugged, as he lifted himself up and started shoving on clothing.
"Sorry about that…Well, it was worth it. Wasn't it?" he asked hopefully, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. She smiled, kissing his forehead as she finished.
"Yes, it was. I'll see you at school on Monday?" she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder. He smiled, clasping her into a hug.
"Definitely," he replied, as they ran their separate ways.
Palo sighed in satisfaction, glad that he had one night of peace.
Palo heard the porch steps creak in the moonlight, as the porch door hissed shut behind him. His house was silent as death, as he stealthily started to edge up the stairs. That was, until the lights snapped on.
"Where have you been?" a sickly voice croaked at him.
His skin began to crawl, realizing that he had been caught. "I…Father, I was with-"
"An art teacher?" the old man snapped. He stepped into the light, the man covered in filth. His clothes hung like rags about him, and those yellow eyes were glaring at him with pure loathing.
Palo shut his mouth immediately. "Dad, I'm fourteen. I think I have the right to-"
"To SNEAK OUT WITHOUT PERMISSION? TO DISOBEY YOUR FATHER'S DIRECT ORDERS?!" he growled, punching the young man in the jaw.
Palo cried out, as he leaned against the staircase for support. Blood dripped from his nose, as he tried to fight back his anguish.
"Stop, Dad! Y-You've had too much to drink! Let me help you!" he begged, as the man delivered a blow to his side. His legs gave way, as he slid down to the bottom of the staircase.
The old man leaned on the rail for support, as he stumbled down to face his son. Palo could no longer hide his emotions, as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"You've betrayed me, boy. Just like that mother of yours," he snarled. Palo tried to stand, remembering how desperate his mother was, how she had tried to run.
Seven-year-old Palo stood at the edge of the stairs, as he glanced hurriedly around him. They were fighting again, and he had his tiny hands clasped around his ears, just like Momma had told him.
"P-Please stop, Momma…Stop Daddy…" he moaned, as he leaned against the banister. Out of nowhere, thundering steps came down. His mother had been running as fast as she could, racing down to him.
"Go hide, Palo. Please, just hide!" she cried, fear etched across her face. Her eyes were swollen red, and bruises covered her arms.
The boy nodded, taking off for the shed outside. He covered his ears, as loud, desperate screams echoed from the house. He sat there for hours, sobbing as he shook in fear.
After much waiting, he slowly stood up, walking over to the house carefully. He pushed the door open, stepping inside. But that sight would terrify him for the rest of his days.
She lay on the ground, blood everywhere. A knife was clasped in the hands of his passed out father, lying on the couch. However, he could hear the shallow breaths of his mother.
"M-Momma?" he begged, kneeling beside her. The dying woman gazed up at him, just having enough strength left to caress her child.
"L-Leave this place, Palo. I love you, just leave…" she croaked, as he cried heavily. He tried to hug her, but the moment his head rested against her chest, her breaths ceased.
This is the end, he thought, his hands covering his head. He prayed silently, for his mother and for Padme, since that was all he truly had. He curled up against that same banister, as his father drove his leg into Palo's stomach.
The boy cried out, as he awaited the next. But as he clutched onto the banister, the blows ceased. The old man slumped against the wall, seeming to lose consiousness.
Palo sighed in relief, as he attempted to lift himself up. "Agh…" he groaned, as he forced harder. He managed to drag himself up, all the way to the bathroom to clean up all of that blood.
As he wiped his face off with a towel, his thoughts filled him. He couldn't run away as a boy, he had nowhere to go. But he had been saving his money, especially from secretly selling paintings on the street. He could escape!
He ran into his bedroom, tearing open a bag as he began tossing his clothes and supplies into the knapsack. He gathered as much of his paints as possible, as he began to sneak out the window.
He had one last wish, one last thing he had to do before leaving.
He would say goodbye to the only gift he had left in his life.
A/N:
Please don't kill me! I had to do this…Only a few more chapters until the Gift is revealed. You may all make your guesses, but I'm a little bit stealthy. You might be right, you might be wrong.
The whole deal about Palo…I'm sorry. I had to do it, it was the only way to move along the story. And as for you Anidala shippers, you can start cheering in a couple more chapters. And I tried to make this fit the rating as best as I could, anyway.
So thanks for the reviews, anyway. I enjoy them all, but please, I'd like some more. That'd be really nice. And the more you review, the sooner I will update. (That's my new rule, ok?).
-Fall Out Guirl