Trying to hold in a laugh, he nods at her and asks, "Is that why you're sitting over there? Am I already so distracting you can't bear to touch me?"
...Actually, that might very well be the case; he's certain that if she curled up against his side, he'd hardly be able to read two words of his own book, but he hadn't considered until after saying it that the same might be true for Padmé.
Still, it's a lazy afternoon, and what he finds he wants most is to spend it curled up with his wife.
She doesn't even try to hold in her responding laugh, lifting the datapad for a moment to shield her face before dropping it to her laugh. He is that distracting, of course, and she won't deny it.
"That may be somewhat true, yes, but I'm also sitting over here so I can do this." And she proceeds to resituate herself to laying down with her head on one of the coach's decorative pillows and her legs draped over a certain distraction's lap. Perfectly comfortable once more, she lets out a loud sigh of contentment.
Delighted at both her reaction, and the ensuing repositioning, Obi-Wan grins, placing a hand comfortably on her shin while he holds the datapad in his other hand, propped on one of her legs.
Watching her for a moment, a look of abject affection crosses his face, mesmerized by her. Padmé is beautiful, but he's never been unduly swayed by outward appearances, and has met plenty of gorgeous people who inwardly turned his stomach. Padmé's beauty shines through, coming from her strength of spirit, her courageous stubbornness, her innate sense of empathy, and her morals to do all she can to protect those around her. It's no wonder he's in love with her.
...It's no wonder Anakin thinks he's in love with her, although Obi-Wan knows from experience that his apprentice simply hasn't spent enough time getting to know Padmé to know her well enough to be in love. Even if you're startled to discover you love someone, as he was at first with Padmé, he knows that the best love grows slowly, through shared experiences and complimentary ideals.
Not exactly what he should be thinking about on what is now essentially his honeymoon, Obi-Wan thinks wryly, pushing the bittersweet thoughts and memories away and turning to his book. The hand on her leg starts kneading the muscle unconsciously, working the muscle in a sort of lazy massage.
The way he looks at her -- she's never had anyone look at her quite that way before. Gazes filled with gratitude and adoration hadn't been uncommon when she was Queen, but never before had someone watched her so openly with such affection. Warmth filled her up inside and she was so utterly content with her life in that moment that it nearly took her breath away.
She turned her attention to her book just before he did, her concentration focusing on an examination of a religious site in the heart of Alderaan's capital. It was a beautiful temple she'd heard of from Breha, and her thoughts drifted to perhaps planning a trip soon for herself and Obi-Wan. After a few months back on Coruscant, they would undoubtedly need a little escape from the hustle of their daily lives.
That gentle kneading was relaxing, his very touch helping to chase away any tension her muscles held. Add in the exertions of their morning and how little rest she'd gotten and, well, not twenty minutes later Padmé was drifting off to sleep, datapad resting against her chest.
It takes a few moments for him to realize why Padmé is so relaxed against him; he glances over to confirm that she's asleep, resting peacefully this time. He hopes, even if it's a brief nap, that she can recover some of the rest she lost due to the previous night's nightmare. ...Not to mention other strenuous activities they'd engaged in already.
Walking. Walking could take a lot out of you, of course.
Inhaling deeply with utter contentment, Obi-Wan turns back to the book of tales, fascinated by the rich history glimpsed in the stories, if one is versed in recognizing such things. Which he is, thanks to his rather unique Jedi education. There seemed to be an awful lot of singing and dancing in the stories, which doesn't fit very well with his memories of first meeting the Gungan people - but then he recalls the celebration after the invasion was stopped; the last thing he'd wanted was to celebrate, but he dimly recalls seeing several Gungans performing jigs and great spinning dances.
The spirit of the stories catches up with him, and Obi-Wan begins humming, then eventually singing softly as his mind, caught up in the almost-musical cadence of words in the stories, supplies lyrics.
He's stopped kneading Padmé's leg, but continues to stroke it, almost as one would a cat. It's not sexual, just a simple, unconscious show of affection and intimacy.
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...Actually, that might very well be the case; he's certain that if she curled up against his side, he'd hardly be able to read two words of his own book, but he hadn't considered until after saying it that the same might be true for Padmé.
Still, it's a lazy afternoon, and what he finds he wants most is to spend it curled up with his wife.
no subject
"That may be somewhat true, yes, but I'm also sitting over here so I can do this." And she proceeds to resituate herself to laying down with her head on one of the coach's decorative pillows and her legs draped over a certain distraction's lap. Perfectly comfortable once more, she lets out a loud sigh of contentment.
no subject
Watching her for a moment, a look of abject affection crosses his face, mesmerized by her. Padmé is beautiful, but he's never been unduly swayed by outward appearances, and has met plenty of gorgeous people who inwardly turned his stomach. Padmé's beauty shines through, coming from her strength of spirit, her courageous stubbornness, her innate sense of empathy, and her morals to do all she can to protect those around her. It's no wonder he's in love with her.
...It's no wonder Anakin thinks he's in love with her, although Obi-Wan knows from experience that his apprentice simply hasn't spent enough time getting to know Padmé to know her well enough to be in love. Even if you're startled to discover you love someone, as he was at first with Padmé, he knows that the best love grows slowly, through shared experiences and complimentary ideals.
Not exactly what he should be thinking about on what is now essentially his honeymoon, Obi-Wan thinks wryly, pushing the bittersweet thoughts and memories away and turning to his book. The hand on her leg starts kneading the muscle unconsciously, working the muscle in a sort of lazy massage.
no subject
She turned her attention to her book just before he did, her concentration focusing on an examination of a religious site in the heart of Alderaan's capital. It was a beautiful temple she'd heard of from Breha, and her thoughts drifted to perhaps planning a trip soon for herself and Obi-Wan. After a few months back on Coruscant, they would undoubtedly need a little escape from the hustle of their daily lives.
That gentle kneading was relaxing, his very touch helping to chase away any tension her muscles held. Add in the exertions of their morning and how little rest she'd gotten and, well, not twenty minutes later Padmé was drifting off to sleep, datapad resting against her chest.
no subject
Walking. Walking could take a lot out of you, of course.
Inhaling deeply with utter contentment, Obi-Wan turns back to the book of tales, fascinated by the rich history glimpsed in the stories, if one is versed in recognizing such things. Which he is, thanks to his rather unique Jedi education. There seemed to be an awful lot of singing and dancing in the stories, which doesn't fit very well with his memories of first meeting the Gungan people - but then he recalls the celebration after the invasion was stopped; the last thing he'd wanted was to celebrate, but he dimly recalls seeing several Gungans performing jigs and great spinning dances.
The spirit of the stories catches up with him, and Obi-Wan begins humming, then eventually singing softly as his mind, caught up in the almost-musical cadence of words in the stories, supplies lyrics.
He's stopped kneading Padmé's leg, but continues to stroke it, almost as one would a cat. It's not sexual, just a simple, unconscious show of affection and intimacy.