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NEVER IN HER LIFE HAD SHE BEEN MORE BABIED IN HER LIFE, and that spoke lengths as she was literally royalty. It was humorous, yet very irritating how, ever since they had got back to Coruscant, Anakin refused to let her do anything with that arm.
Cooking? He was fine doing it by himself. Cleaning? They no longer shared chores, it was all on him. Even just taking a shower? He was in the bathroom, or in the shower with her—however this was partially an excuse to see his girl naked.
"Need help?" Astrid asks, masking the chuckle that threatened to break through her lips. Her elbows lean against the kitchen counter across from Anakin, her chin resting on her palm as she sat on one of the seats of their breakfast nook.
His lips were pursed as he stirred the sauce on the portable stove. It was too thick. His arms strained as he leans the wooden spoon against the side of the steel pot and puts his weight on his arms. The blue of his eyes meet Astrid's amused green one, narrowing slightly, "I'm doing fine."
