"We'll see," Anakin said, still not looking convinced. "Admitting to the impulse is a bigger step than I ever made when I was your age."

"I know no one likes feeling played, my Jaina, and I know how quickly righteous anger can turn into just plain anger," he said softly. "I'm not saying that I'm looking to fit you for a sweeping cape and a red lightsaber, but I do think you've gotten a little closer to that murky line than you were when you left."

Only someone looking very, very carefully would notice the wounded look in Anakin's eyes. It lasted for a split second.

"It's not all action," he said, trying not to let his temper flare in return. "There was a progression from being who I was to killing everything that moved in the Temple. Until then it was all talking."

Anakin reached into the Force for a moment, looking for something he didn't even have a name for: reassurance, maybe? Hope? A blinking sign that said "of course she's right?"

He was left, as always, with his instincts.

"I trust you," he said, opening his eyes and nodding. "You'll do the right thing."

It would break his heart if she didn't.

Anakin almost winced at the hurt coming from her. As always, he'd broken everything he touched.

He looked up at her from his chair, letting her have the advantage of height over him. "I never say things I don't mean," he murmured. "I trust you. I love you. I worry about you."

Anakin waited until she was well out of earshot before sighing and dropping his head between his hands.