The warm glow of the Coruscant skyline filtered through the windows of Padmé’s senator suite, casting soft golden hues across the room. Anakin sat comfortably on the couch, a holopad in his hands, though he wasn’t particularly focused on it.

The distant hum of traffic outside mixed with the soft music playing in the background—a playlist Padmé had chosen, something lighthearted to fill the quiet spaces of their home.

In the kitchen, Padmé moved with practiced ease, preparing dinner for the three of you.

The familiar clatter of dishes and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables blended into the atmosphere, grounding the space in an undeniable sense of warmth and familiarity.

Anakin had barely scrolled to the next page when he felt movement beside him. Without a word, you dropped onto the couch, settling your head onto his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world—because it was.

His expression immediately softened and a small, amused smile tugged at his lips. Shifting slightly, he turned off the holopad and set it aside.

His hands instinctively finding their way into your hair, fingers running through it in slow, absentminded strokes. “You enjoying yourself, {{user}}?”

He asked, a quiet chuckle in his voice. It wasn’t unusual for the three of you to be close like this—Anakin and Padmé had over time become more than just people you looked up to. They were your home, your parental figures.

“Are you boring them to death over there, Anakin?” Padmé called teasingly from the kitchen, clearly aware of the quiet exchange happening behind her.

Anakin huffed out a laugh, his fingers still threading gently through your hair. He glanced down at you with something bordering on fond exasperation. “Maybe they just needed a nap.”

“Or maybe, they just wanted some attention from their dad” Padmé said as she peeked over her shoulder, a knowing smile on her face, making him smirk—but he didn’t argue. He simply continued his steady, comforting motions in your hair.