She knew she had to stop this travesty before it continued any longer. She would extinguish the fire of the fake flame he was trying to fan into a burn while also dousing the fire in his eyes that he believed momentarily sparked for her. His intentions were not honorable, and his judgment was misplaced. Padmé couldn't believe the man's ignorance. He was so proud to think that she had saved him because she had some sort of attachment to him. She hadn't even known the man until after Vader had knocked him unconscious!
"Rush," she breathed before the man could embarrass himself further. Padmé politely pulled her hand away from Rush's grasp, smiling gently as she tried to soften the blow. "You are a very kind man, but I'm afraid you are mistaken. There is nothing between us."
Her words did nothing to deter him from his task, and if she was correct, they only seemed to spur him on, his eyes sparkling with the hint of a challenge. "There isn't one yet," he corrected, waving his finger with that same cocky smile. "But there will be!" He practically jumped onto Padmé's desk, his expression turning serious as he leaned closer to the young senator, trying- and failing- to meet her gaze. "Tell me you didn't feel something between us," he whispered with lingering seduction. "Tell me you didn't feel it too…"
Padmé shifted away, creating necessary space between them. "I'm sorry… I didn't," she answered sincerely, hoping to end the subject.
"Then why did you save me?" Rush pressed, unable to believe her statement. "Why didn't you let Vader kill me?"
Padmé remained silent, stunned by his stupidity. Was he truly this shallow? Could she not have just saved him because it was the right thing to do?
Rush laughed at Padmé's silence. "You see?" His smile widened, and a feeling of victory settled over every feature. "I knew you felt something."
Padmé frowned. "I didn't," she argued. "I just didn't want to witness an innocent man being murdered right before my eyes. I couldn't just stand by and watch." Rush laughed, obviously feeling very full of himself, his body language conveying that fact beyond anything else. "Yes, I'm sure…" he agreed sarcastically, even going the extra mile of licking his lips. "But you know what I think? I think you didn't want a gorgeous guy like me out of your sights when you haven't even had a real taste of him yet. And sweetheart, I promise I taste delicious, but I bet not as tasty as you."
Padmé's face flushed red at his comment, the sudden rush of blood burning her cheeks as she averted her gaze. She noticed how his stare lingered on her body, becoming nauseatingly heavy as it dropped to a particular private area hidden beneath her desk and layers of Naboo fabrics, even as he licked his lips. Disgusting! The man continued to undress her with his eyes, even after her gaze had shifted away from him.
It may have been old-fashioned, or perhaps just her royal upbringing, but she believed it wasn't proper to speak of such things with someone you hardly knew, let alone with anyone at all. It certainly wasn't a matter to discuss with a stranger in a public setting, and it wasn't just because of the oath she had sworn to keep her virtue that made her think this. After all, Padmé was a proper lady, a former queen, and a respectable senator. He had no right to talk to her in such a way, to suggest such things, or even to imagine them!
"Nothing to say?" Rush kept teasing her, laughing softly as he shifted uncomfortably closer. "I tend to leave women speechless, but I must say I would love to hear what your pretty little mouth has to offer... or scream..." He paused, gripping the edges of her desk and licking his lips again. "So that just leaves one question," he breathed. "When is our first date?"
"Excuse me?" Padmé responded, but her reply was overshadowed by a loud groan from the corner of the room. "Are you always so full of yourself?" Dormé had suddenly appeared by her side, sporting an annoyed expression that dared to challenge her own.
"Confidence," Rush corrected without looking away. "It's called confidence and charm."
"My mistake," Dormé hissed. "But you'd better form a more accurate presumption; otherwise, I might end up being the one developing a crush on you."
Rush ignored her, his eyes not even flinching away from Padmé, even when Dormé began to mumble at an obvious perceptive level. "So, what do you say?" he pressed. "Dinner? You. Me. Somewhere special." His gaze grazed over her as if she were nothing more than a piece of meat—one that was naked, causing Padmé to shiver in her seat. Her unease tripled as he licked his lips yet again. "I promise it will be well worth it." I think not, Padmé thought, but she bit her tongue to keep from voicing her automatic decline. If the last five minutes had taught her anything, it was that this man didn't back down even when obviously rejected. She knew his type and understood that she would have to change tactics. Like a rare prakith peacock, this man was proudly putting himself on presumptive display, and like the male of any species in the galaxy, he wouldn't react well to having his beloved feathers ruffled and jilted—even if it was simply through misconceived actions and unreciprocated feelings.
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