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Padmé is refreshing her makeup in front of the dirty mirror in her university's bathroom, just a smidge of mascara alongside the lipstick she dual uses as a blush when a freshman guy comes stumbling into the sacred holy space of the Girl's Bathroom™ (trademark included). The door opens with a bang, and here comes Anakin Skywalker, in all his weird twinkish glory.
Padmé doesn't know who he is at the time though, so she only honors him with a millisecond of a glace and then goes back to putting on her rouge.
"Hey," he heaves out, and he has his hands on his knees, looking like he just ran a marathon.
If he's expecting an answer, he's out of luck. Honestly, Padmé really doesn't care what a guy is doing in the woman's bathroom unless he decides to come onto her.
If so, she has her pepper spray ready, and she isn't afraid to stab her lipstick tube into his eye. Ah, girlhood, and all that.
Padmé checks the clock on her phone to see that she has ten minutes left until her Econ lecture starts. She stifles a groan.
"Um. Do you have any pa-" he starts, and his voice cracks. His eyes widen, and he looks terrified, like a dog drenched in water who was caught lacking in the alpha male field. He closes his mouth shut. Padmé refuses to feel empathy for a man, but that's just…. sad.
He tries again.
"Pads I can borrow? For like. Reasons," he squeaks out.
His eyes widen, and there is a sickly red blush quickly spreading across his neck.
Padmé throws him a cursory glance yet again, before looking around in her bag and pulling one of the big ones out. Better be safe than sorry, right? She sees the guy eye the trans pins on the front of her backpack and tries not to roll her eyes.
"This one's a night one, for when the flow is really bad," she explains, whilst holding out the pad towards him.
"Obviously," the twink says, and what does that even mean? He blinks and then reaches out to grab it.
Padmé's eyebrows furrow.
The guy speaks again. "What I meant was that I am aware of the things that women go through when the monthly flows come in tidal waves and my knowledge has nothing to do with my biological anatomy whatsoever."
He nods as if to affirm his words. Then he slowly walks back towards the bathroom door, still facing Padmé.
"I am so sorry for interrupting and intruding on the sacred place in which you have found comfort. I will never even look at a woman's bathroom again."
And then he thrusts his hand back, scrambling for the door handle, missing it two times whilst still trying to look Padmé in the eye. When he finally manages to grab it, he nods once again, and then he's out.
Padmé tries not to think much of it.
—
The next time Padmé sees the aforementioned twink, he's sprawled on the street in front of a gay bar she frequents with Sabé. She's outside to smoke a quick cigarette before she spots him.
He's lying on his back on the dirty floor, and he has his hands reaching out toward the sky.
Honestly, he looks a little high out of his mind.
He has makeup on, and it looks like someone colored the transgender flag on his cheeks with crayons.
She walks towards him and glances down. He's smack dab in the middle of the road.
Who let this guy out like this?
She crouches down in front of him and lightly pokes his cheek. It's soft. Huh.
He gasps, eyes opening wide. He grabs her hand. His voice is an octave too high when he says "You're the goddess I fumbled…" before he drops her hand and passes out.
Padmé sighs.
—
She takes him to Obi-Wan, because who else would she take him to? She goes back inside the bar briefly to tell Sabé, but all she does is throw Padmé a knowing look. Padmé rolls her eyes.
She carries him bridal style to his apartment, and looking down at him under certain street lights he almost looks… cute. Like a squirrel.
Obi-Wan opens the door when she knocks, and he tilts his head slightly when she sees the state she's in. Padmé shrugs, making sure not to jostle the passed-out twink too much.
Obi-Wan lets her in no questions asked. Padmé is endlessly grateful.
—
When the twink wakes up, she's making breakfast. Obi-Wan left for work a while ago, leaving with an Advil left on the counter for the freshmen to take when he wakes up, and a knowing smirk.
She can hear when he wakes up because there's a crash and a loud "Fuck!" before silent footsteps are coming towards the kitchen. Padmé hums, flipping the pancakes. The footsteps are almost endearing in a way. Like tiny little bunny feet.
He throws open the door, takes one good look at her, and throws up all over the floor. Padmé closes her eyes and wills god to give her strength.
—
He tells her that his name is Anakin Skywalker, and she is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Padmé tries to push her flustered smile down.
He's seated on the bathroom counter, legs swinging as Padmé dubs the wetted towel on his chin to clean up leftover puke.
"You should know better than go to a gay bar and take the first pill a doll gives you, you know?" she says.
He blinks and then blinks again. His lips wobble.
"It was my first night out since I've turned eighteen."
"Okay," she says, and lets the silence hang in between them, willing him to eloborate.
Anakin doesn't look up, staring at his feet.
She speaks up again when it seems like he won't say anything.
"That's an unfortunate first night out, no?"
"I wanted to fit in, I guess," he replies finally. "No one has really liked me enough to take me out to hang out before."
Padmé raises her eyebrows, "I doubt that's true."
Anakin shakes his head vehemently, "It is."
He sniffs, and his nose scrunches up. Padmé kind of wants to bite him. She also wants to keep him safe for years to come.
"I've always been weird. How could I make real friends when I couldn't even feel comfortable in my own skin?" he asks. His hands come up to wipe roughly at his eyes, and Padmé grabs his wrists, stopping him.
"Just because you understood who you were a bit later than others doesn't mean you're less deserving of space. It took me twenty years, so you've got me beat," she says, and Anakin smiles a bit.
Padmé feels relief ebbing away at the ice in her chest, melting it all away.
"Hey, tell you what. I need to take my shot today. You drove Obi-wan away, so you wanna help me?" she asks, and winks. Anakin giggles.
"I haven't done injections before," he whispers like it's her secret to keep. Maybe it is.
"Mine is a gel," he speaks out again and reaches out to hold her hands, looking awfully serious. "If I mess up, I'll seriously won't be able to forgive myself. I won't be able to look at you in the eyes again. I'll die."
Padmé lets out a soft huff of breath.
"I'm sure you'll be fine."
They aren't fine, and Anakin's eyes blow so wide he sees the needle he's supposed to stab into her thigh that Padmé thinks his eyeballs are going to pop out.
Padmé laughs so hard at the reaction she has to grasp the edge of the bathroom counter with both hands, head bowed down as she tries to stop giggling.
Anakin, still looking a bit worse to wear, subtly trying to scooch away from the needle she disregarded on the counter, looks down at her and smiles.
—
She kicks him out of Obiwan's house around noon, when he tells her he missed two introductory lectures that day alone.
Padmé whacks him on the back of the head and tells him to go to his last lecture. So he goes.
The next time she sees him, it is outside of her Econ lecture around a week later. He has a bouquet in his hands, and he looks a little like he's going to throw up.
Padmé thinks he's perfect.