Rory sat on a rock, reading New Poems of Emily Dickinson and waiting for Anakin, who she had handwavily asked to meet her.
Okay, yes, she gave terrible directions. But he could probably find her, right?
Every so often, she'd lightly touch the slightly warm
necklace she had been given, and smile.
[Locked to these two, yo. Also, getting kind of
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He tossed his head, sending the beetle that had been hanging onto his braid flying off into the grass.
"How long are we in the cabins?" he murmured against her ear.
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No, that didn't exactly make sense.
No, she didn't care.
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Force, but he'd missed this.
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She was very slightly aware that her skin was starting to sting in very inconvenient areas, though she couldn't bring herself to care just yet.
"Love you," she told his shoulder.
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And that was pretty much it for coherency from Anakin for a while.
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So was having tidy hair, apparently, as the way she was moving was really just ensuring that more sap and twigs - not to mention God knows what kinds of weetiny animals - were getting embedded in it.
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Or that he had flung his pants onto an anthill.
All he could see was Rory.
At least for the next half hour or so...
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And as things wrapped up, Rory began to kind of notice things, but she was still just a little too warm and glowy and tingly to be aware of, say, her increasingly bad sunburn.
"Wow," she murmured, lightly kissing Anakin.
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"Uh-oh," he said quietly.
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That would be when she noticed the beetle in his hair and gave a little shriek.
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