Los Angeles looked different at night from inside Donovan's Skyline.
Calmer.
Softer.
The endless noise of Hollywood faded once the city lights blurred together beneath the dark sky.
Natalie rested comfortably in the passenger seat with one leg tucked slightly beneath her while soft rock music played quietly through the speakers.
For several minutes, neither of them said anything.
Not awkward silence.
Comfortable silence.
The kind that only happened when two people genuinely enjoyed existing in the same space.
Natalie looked out the window.
"You know," she said eventually, "this might actually be the first time I've been in a car this expensive without three publicists and a bodyguard."
Donovan glanced at her briefly.
"And?"
She smiled faintly.
"It smells less like stress."
"That's because Chris isn't here."
Natalie laughed immediately.
"Oh my God, that man radiates chaos."
"He once tried making instant noodles with coffee instead of water."
"…Why?"
"He said he wanted to 'unlock flavor.'"
Natalie physically covered her face laughing.
"That's horrifying."
"It smelled like chemical warfare."
About twenty minutes later, Donovan parked near a quieter part of Santa Monica.
Not the crowded tourist areas.
Somewhere calmer.
The ocean breeze carried through the streets while distant music echoed softly from nearby restaurants.
The moment they stepped out of the car, a few people recognized them.
Whispers spread almost instantly.
But tonight, nobody approached aggressively.
Most people just stared in disbelief.
Because seeing Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala casually walking together at night felt almost surreal.
Natalie noticed the looks immediately.
"So this is our life now, huh?"
Donovan shoved his hands into his jacket pockets casually.
"Pretty much."
A group of teenage girls across the street suddenly started whispering violently to each other.
One of them pointed directly at Donovan.
Natalie smirked.
"You know they're definitely talking about you."
"They're probably talking about you."
"No, trust me," Natalie said dryly. "That one looked spiritually devastated."
Donovan looked over.
The girl immediately looked away and nearly walked into a parking meter.
Natalie burst out laughing.
"See? Devastated."
They ended up grabbing food from a small late-night diner near the pier.
Not fancy.
Not expensive.
Just burgers, fries, milkshakes, and a neon sign flickering slightly outside the windows.
Ironically, it felt more relaxing than most celebrity restaurants Donovan had ever visited.
The waitress nearly dropped her notepad when she realized who they were.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "You're—"
Natalie smiled gently.
"Very hungry."
That somehow relaxed the waitress instantly.
Ten minutes later, they sat in a booth near the window while fries disappeared rapidly between them.
Natalie stole one directly off Donovan's plate.
"You're rich. You'll survive."
"You're becoming increasingly violent tonight."
"I learned from filming with you."
"That's fair."
She leaned back slightly, sipping her milkshake.
For a few moments, she just watched the people outside walking along the pier.
Then her expression softened a little.
"You know what's weird?"
"What?"
Natalie twirled the straw absentmindedly.
"Everyone thinks Hollywood is exciting all the time."
Donovan hummed quietly.
"But honestly?" she continued. "Most of it is just waiting."
"Waiting in trailers. Waiting for interviews. Waiting between scenes. Waiting for people to decide your future."
Donovan nodded slightly.
He understood that feeling better than most people realized.
Natalie looked back at him.
"You're like… the only person I know who doesn't seem crushed by all of it."
Donovan smiled faintly.
"I think I stopped caring what people expected from me a long time ago."
"That sounds suspiciously wise for a seventeen-year-old."
"I contain multitudes."
Natalie rolled her eyes.
"You definitely practice saying mysterious things in the mirror."
"I absolutely do not."
"Liar."
Eventually, they left the diner and started walking along the pier.
The air smelled like saltwater and fried food.
Arcade lights reflected across the wooden planks while distant carnival music echoed through the night.
Natalie walked beside him with her hands tucked into her sweater sleeves.
"So," Donovan asked casually, "how's university life treating you?"
Natalie groaned dramatically.
"Oh my God. Reading. So much reading."
"You say that like books personally offended you."
"They have."
She pointed accusingly at him.
"Some of us don't casually absorb information like ancient immortal librarians."
Donovan looked genuinely thoughtful.
"That is an oddly specific description."
Natalie narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"You know, sometimes you genuinely scare me a little."
"That's fair too."
They passed a small movie theater near the edge of the pier.
Not a giant modern cinema.
One of those older theaters with glowing red letters and cheap tickets.
Natalie slowed slightly.
The marquee displayed some random romantic comedy neither of them had heard of.
Donovan noticed immediately.
"You want to go in?"
Natalie looked surprised.
"Seriously?"
"Why not?"
She stared at the theater.
Then slowly smiled.
"You know what? Sure."
Unfortunately, entering the theater quietly turned out to be impossible.
The teenage employee at the ticket booth recognized them instantly.
His eyes widened so hard Donovan thought the poor guy might faint.
"Holy—"
He stopped himself mid-sentence.
Natalie smiled politely while Donovan handed over cash.
The employee looked between them like he was witnessing forbidden knowledge.
"You guys are… together?"
Both of them answered immediately.
"No."
Then they looked at each other.
Then back at the employee.
The teenager nodded slowly.
"That sounded super believable."
Five minutes later, they sat in the back corner of the nearly empty theater wearing baseball caps they had panic-bought from a nearby souvenir stand.
Natalie looked ridiculous.
The bright tourist hat had "Santa Monica Beach!" written across the front in giant colorful letters.
Donovan looked at her once and immediately started laughing again.
"You cannot make fun of me," Natalie whispered aggressively. "Your disguise is literally sunglasses indoors."
"They complete the aesthetic."
"You look like a divorced action movie dad."
"That hurts."
The movie itself was terrible.
Absolutely terrible.
The acting was awkward.
The editing made no sense.
Half the jokes died instantly.
And somehow that made the experience even funnier.
Natalie kept whispering increasingly brutal commentary throughout the movie.
"That extra forgot he was in the scene."
"That continuity error just killed me emotionally."
"Why are they kissing like cousins?"
At one point Donovan laughed hard enough that several people in front of them turned around.
Natalie nearly collapsed against the seat trying not to laugh herself.
"Stop," she whispered through tears. "You're making it worse."
"You started it."
"No, the movie started it."
About halfway through, the romantic lead on screen delivered an incredibly dramatic monologue about destiny.
Natalie leaned closer slightly.
"Okay but real question," she whispered quietly.
"Do you believe in destiny?"
Donovan looked toward the glowing movie screen for a few seconds.
His expression softened slightly.
For someone who had literally lived through the collapse of worlds...
It was a dangerous question.
"I think," Donovan said slowly, "people spend too much time worrying about where their story ends."
Natalie listened quietly.
"And not enough time appreciating the scenes they actually get to live through."
Natalie looked at him for a second longer than normal.
The light from the screen reflected softly in her eyes.
Then she smiled faintly.
"That was annoyingly beautiful."
"I've been told I have moments."
"You definitely practiced that one in the mirror."
"I absolutely did not."
She laughed softly again.
And for the rest of the movie, neither of them paid much attention to the screen anymore.
By the time they left the theater, it was past midnight.
The pier had become quieter now.
Cool ocean wind swept through the empty walkways while distant waves crashed against the shore below.
Natalie walked beside him more slowly now.
Relaxed.
Comfortable.
No cameras.
No interviews.
No pressure.
Just two teenagers wandering through Los Angeles at midnight after watching a terrible movie together.
Honestly?
It was probably the most normal night either of them had experienced in years.
They stopped near the railing overlooking the ocean.
Natalie rested her arms against it quietly.
"You know," she said softly, "I think this might've been the first actual date I've had that didn't feel fake."
Donovan blinked once.
"So this is officially a date now?"
Natalie looked horrified.
"Oh my God."
Donovan started laughing immediately.
"You're evil."
"You walked directly into that one."
Natalie pointed at him dramatically.
"I take back everything nice I almost thought about you."
"Almost?"
"Don't push your luck, Skywalker."
The ocean wind lifted a few strands of her hair while she smiled at him beneath the dim pier lights.
And for a brief moment, Donovan forgot about Hollywood.
Forgot about billion-dollar franchises.
Forgot about empires and futures and destiny.
Because right then?
Standing beside Natalie Portman at midnight while arguing over whether this technically counted as a date...
Life felt surprisingly simple.
And he liked that far more than he expected.