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[ five years. he's starting to feel a little like he suspects padmé did. but five is preferable to twenty in any world. tamping down further suspicion, he brushes a kiss to her forehead, his hand briefly coming up to thumb her jaw. he'd begun to fear —

it didn't matter. she's here. ]

They were good ones. [ a flash of a grin, and he would almost be himself again, but for the tightness remaining around his eyes. but when he takes her hand, it's as warmly as ever, giving her fingers a comforting squeeze. ]

Come on. Let's get back.

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