From all appearances, Anakin was having another bad dream. He suffered frequent nightmares stemming from his bondage on Tatooine and his perceived abandonment of his mother. He tossed fitfully in his bed.
It did not take long for the Force to confirm my suspicions. Anakin was not really asleep. I sat down on my bed across the cabin. This was not the first time he had tried this. He writhed beneath his sheets, clothed only in the translucent fabric. I examined my fingernails. Ignoring the blatant come-on caused him to push away his sheets all together and moan quietly.
These ridiculous episodes were becoming more and more predictable. It never seemed to occur to Anakin that I might not be attracted to him. Indeed, there is only one man's body I have any interest in exploring and it's my own. Sometimes I wonder exactly what sort of servitude old Watto had him employed in back on Tatooine. He was certainly more sexually aware then most of the other apprentices when he came to the Temple.
I wondered what Qui-Gon would have made of it all. Perhaps he would have encouraged it. Stories were often passed around the corridors of Coruscant about Masters teaching their students more than the way of the Force. Poor Anakin, I thought, you are too unrefined for anyone of taste to enjoy. You would do well to remember that.
I stood up. "I believe you will find that the Jedi Council has generously paid for our use of all the premium channels. I suggest you find something on one of them to alleviate your need. I must now go and check our landing arrangements. I will return in one standard hour."
As I left the cabin I felt his rage seethe behind me. A bit too close to the Dark Side, that one.