"I know I'm prying..." Dormé said, placing a comforting hand on Padmé's shoulder. "But what else is bothering you, milady?"
"Nothing," Padmé replied a bit too harshly as she struggled to regain her composure. "I'm sorry," she added quickly. "As I mentioned, I just had a rough night. Don't worry. I'm fine."
Dormé shook her head in disbelief and, despite Padmé's hopes, continued to press for more information. "I'm your best friend," she countered. "I know when something is bothering you, and you can tell me anything. Do you want to talk about it? Was it–"
"Ah, my savior herself!"
The unexpected voice traveled into the room, practically singing the sentence like a strange song, and stopped the conversation between the women as both their eyes moved towards the door. The sight was unexpected. Padmé and Dormé were greeted by a young man with a huge grin, practically strutting like a proud, wild bird towards them as he proceeded uninvited into the room.
Dormé took no chances concerning her senator's safety; she jumped to Padmé's protection, her eyes flickering toward the other side of the door where the guards should have been. "Who the hell are you?" Dormé snapped, her own nerves high as she searched for any signs that the man might be an Imperial spy come to drag Padmé away. Her palms rose to a defensive position, fingers curled, with an unseen weapon at her waist, and the man was just moments away from being zapped.
The man only smiled as he paused before Padmé's desk, completely unbothered by the threat. He grinned down at her with a large, white-tooth grin. His eyes moved over her hungrily before staring at her with an intense and familiar gaze, and only then did Padmé realize his true identity. It was the man that Darth Vader had almost killed the night before, Rush Clovis.
She forced a smile and bowed her head slightly. "Rush, what a pleasant surprise," she said, trying to sound professional but unable to ignore the rather prominent bump protruding from the man's head. It looked worse than last night. The memory of how the contusion had been inflicted raced through her mind, or rather the memory of who had caused the injury, conjuring a vision of darkness. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, trying to push the thoughts away. "You look much better than you did last night."
"Yes," Rush replied with a sly smile, puffing out his chest. "Thanks to you," he paused, taking a low, elegant bow. "Of course, I am in your debt, milady."
"Ahem," Dormé cleared her throat to get Padmé's attention, her eyebrow arched in question and her flickering eyes conveying confusion.
Padmé was more than willing to divert her attention from the unexpected guest to her mumbling handmaid, delighted by the distraction. "Yes, right. How rude of me," she said, gesturing between the two. "Dormé, this is Rush Clovis. Rush, this is Dormé Byrne." She hoped the introduction would put an end to it, but unfortunately, the new topic was hardly ignored.
"Pleasure," Rush replied absently, scarcely acknowledging Dormé's presence while keeping his gaze fixed on his evident true objective.
Dormé rolled her eyes and loudly snorted, settling back into her spot beside the senator. She regarded this man as a nuisance, but clearly not a threat.
Padmé wished she could do what her friend did- roll her eyes to give him a hint- but, unfortunately, she had to resort to more ladylike manners. Instead, Padmé tried to act busy, hoping that Rush would catch the undeniable hint that she wasn't interested and that his presence, above all else, was bothersome. It took only a few minutes for her to realize that this sad excuse for a man wasn't going anywhere and most definitely did not understand her hint. Instead of leaving, he stood before her like a starving dog hoping for a thrown bone. She didn't even need to look up to know he was salivating like one too. What Rush didn't know, however, was that Padmé wasn't particularly fond of strays, and she tried to continue working despite his aggravating presence.
It was only when she nearly forgot his presence entirely that Rush made his move. The man timed his actions to the precise moment Padmé reached for a datapad on the opposite side of her desk, quickly swooping in to grasp her outstretched hand. Padmé gasped as he took her hand, while Rush mistook her sharp breath for a type of swooning, holding her hand even tighter.
Infuriated, Padmé turned away from her work to confront him, her nerves and patience finally reaching their limit. She opened her mouth, ready to withdraw her hand and deliver a lecture that would undoubtedly prompt him to leave her office, but Rush spoke before she could even begin.
"Listen," he said softly, his voice tinged with admiration and desire. "I want to be honest with you. I came here today to continue from where we left off last night."
Padmé's breath caught in her throat, taken aback by the man's comment. Last night? What had happened last night?
"I know you feel as I do," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper as he awkwardly kissed Padmé's palm. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have risked your life to save me from such a cruel fate."
Padmé's eyes widened as the man continued speaking, and she surely would have ripped her hand away from his grasp had she not been in such a state of shock. Was this man serious? How could he possibly have come to this conclusion? How could he have thought... Suddenly, his comments made sense, and Padmé hesitated in foreign unsettlement as she realized the endeavors leading up to this misunderstanding, feeling somewhat flustered about the entire ordeal. She tried to ignore the way even Dormé's eyes widened at the statement and her mouth hung slightly agape. She would extinguish one fire at a time, and right now, Rush was her top priority.
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