It was habit to let Poe take his arms, habit to fall still under that supporting touch, but Anakin still wasn't entirely in the mood to be placated. Seething anger still roiled beneath his skin, sending angry red strikes unseen through the aura of the Force. And the shadows gobbled them right up, so greedy, so greedy...

Shuddering, Anakin finally met Poe's gaze, though there was hardly any give in the blue eyes that stared back. Suddenly, the youngest Solo felt the weight of over a thousand years, the burdens heavy as they settled on his shoulders. He drooped, would have dropped had Poe not been holding him, but regained a little balance after a quick moment or so.

Gods, but he was so tired of this!

Poe's milld outburst didn't do much to reassure him, either. Anakin sighed, suddenly so very weary. He placed his hands on Poe's arms in turn, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

"...Poe." His voice was quiet, heartsick. "You have to care. We have to care. M-Maybe she's...right, about some of it." Anakin's eyes slowly closed. "...there's so much at stake right now, so much riding on the both of us..." He tried to shake his head, but it was simply too much effort. "I don't wanna give you up." A hitched breath. "I can't. I'm-I'm afraid of losing you."