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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Comments 105
He wasn't looking around for the trees that used to toss Padmé into the water, really.
"Hey you," he said, smiling, when he saw Rory.
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She glanced past him, and asked, "Think you were followed?"
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He frowned. "Who are now deciding it's much better to be somewhere else, as it happens," he said after a minute.
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"Well...there is no one here...."
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Nature, unfortunately, was not ignoring her, if the twigs tangling in her hair were any indication.
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He was too busy playing with Rory's bra.
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Nor did she take into account that she was about to be severely underclothed, and she wasn't wearing any sunscreen.
Little bit too busy kissing Anakin somewhat insistently. It'd been a long two weeks.
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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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He leaned over and quickly plucked the spider from Rory's hair. Best she didn't know about that.
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She had just caught sight of her arm.
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