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    Summary

    “I can’t even begin to explain to people who refuse to hear me that this-” She pointed to Anakin. “Will never happen. Not only is he too young, which would be taking severe advantage of my power as his supervisor and my age, it’s forbidden in the code of conduct of the Republic University itself. I’m not putting my entire career on the line. That’s final.”

    “You’re so stubborn.” Sola nearly growled, and Padmè refused to let herself give into her family’s badgering.

    “I have a great life.”

    “No one said you have a bad life, baby.” She felt her mother begin to knead at her shoulders like she did when Padmè came back from ballet. “We just want someone to appreciate our brilliant Padmè just like we do.”

    “I know.” She murmured into her wine flute quietly. “There are a lot of people who appreciate me for who I am.”

    “Like Anakin.” Sola quipped, and Padmè chose to throw an apple slice at her head, which was narrowly avoided.

     

    Or: Padmè wasn't expecting this teaching year to be any different than the others. She definitely wasn't expecting her new graduate assistant to begin a personal crisis, either.

    Language:
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