starter | timeline: 21 b.b.y | muses accepted: any. | age: 18+.
my character: Padmé Naberrie Amidala.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.･ ﾟ. ﾟ. ﾟﾟ. ﾟ.｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.･ ───
Coruscant seemed utterly silent that night, the invisible streets in the sky were almost empty except for a few speeders going back home from work — or the Maker only knew where. Padmé sat right by the window, admiring the starry sight that brightened space, before standing slowly with a low sight that seemed useful enough to relief whatever was going on in her mind, a bit at least. “Is everything alright, Mistress Amidala?” Threepio’s voice broke through the silence, making the woman suddenly snap back to reality. With a gentle expression while her eyes spoke with uncertainty, she gazed at him before looking back outside the window. “Anakin had been acting distant lately. It worries me.” Padmé admitted softly, her features hardened slightly in turmoil. Anakin had always been secretive when it came to out his emotions — however, lately, it only seemed to worsen.
“Perhaps Master Anakin is simply too involved in his work, I am sure nothing serious had happened. Rest assured, Mistress Amidala.” the droid’s voice, somehow, held a reassuring tone to it, even through all the coding and inalive protocols. “Overthinking, you say?” Padmé’s head turned slightly to look back at C3-PO, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Tiredness, maybe. You should rest, Miss. Your pregnancy status needs sleep. With your permission,” the droid concluded, bending in a mechanical way before disappearing out of the bedroom with a funky walk. Padmé sighed once again, her figure slowly making steps to walk out the bedroom and into the wide balcony it had. The wind brushed through her curls gently as she bent over the railing, her chin in the palm of her hand.
