Left in the middle of the room, staring across it at the man who'd claimed to be his father, Luke had honestly never felt more lost in his short lifetime. "Why-- why did Uncle Owen lie to me?" he whispered after a moment, as if Anakin would know the answer to that. "He had to know. He had to-- why--?" He hiccuped, staring down at his feet as he tried to get the tears to stop.
Swallowing, scrubbing his face dry with the back of his sleeve, he glanced back up again, then, and moved toward Anakin, steps hesitant and uncertain. --He paused when he reached him, tilting his head back, expression determined and attempting very much to look grown-up and not like the little kid he felt like. ".. You're really my dad?" he queried, voice trembling despite his best efforts. "No foolin'?" And then, as if afraid to hear the answer, he threw his arms around Anakin's waist, burying his face in the hem of the man's shirt, small shoulders shaking lightly.