Jyn Erso (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nextchance) wrote2017-05-14 02:15 am
nextchance) wrote2017-05-14 02:15 am
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It takes longer than usual for Jyn to make her way to Cassian's. She ought to have expected as much, really, between the amount of time she's spent looking at her phone, trying to type out text messages, and the fact that she's used to coming from her own apartment, not some party in some garage. Just orienting herself is a bit more difficult than it should be, but she has no intention of or reason to admit as much. She made no mention to Cassian of when she would be there, just that she would, and drunk or not, she isn't so far gone that she can't read street signs or figure out her way around. It's a survival instinct, as much as anything else; she didn't make it on her own as long as she did by sheer chance. When she thinks about it like that, when she acts on sheer determination, it isn't as difficult as all that.
Even as she walks to his building, she knows this is probably a bad idea. She'd been too open, too vulnerable, once memories started hitting her at that party, and that's usually a danger with Cassian as it is. To be with him now, she can't be sure of what she will or won't say around him, what usually buried impulses she might try to act on. There's no one she trusts more than Cassian, and that includes herself. Whatever it is she feels when she's around him, she might not have a word for, but it's getting increasingly difficult to pretend it's not there. She doesn't know now if she'll be able to manage it at all.
She also just can't quite bring herself to care, when the alternative is going back to her own apartment — too empty, as she told him — and being lost in her own head, with so much threatening to overwhelm her already. Being around Cassian might be dangerous, but he's safe, and with her walls lower than usual, that's all that counts. Even when she's forcing herself to keep a distance, even when she's too scared of what they're doing and what it might mean, she tends to want to be around him. Now she thinks she might need to, a weight still heavy in her chest, lungs aching like they're filled with smoke. There's no one who could understand that like he does. He's the one who was there.
Outside his apartment, she fumbles for the key he gave her, then gives up, leaning her forehead against the door. "Cassian?" she calls, not caring that the woman across the hall, who already seems to disapprove of her, will probably hate her all the more for it. "It's me."
Even as she walks to his building, she knows this is probably a bad idea. She'd been too open, too vulnerable, once memories started hitting her at that party, and that's usually a danger with Cassian as it is. To be with him now, she can't be sure of what she will or won't say around him, what usually buried impulses she might try to act on. There's no one she trusts more than Cassian, and that includes herself. Whatever it is she feels when she's around him, she might not have a word for, but it's getting increasingly difficult to pretend it's not there. She doesn't know now if she'll be able to manage it at all.
She also just can't quite bring herself to care, when the alternative is going back to her own apartment — too empty, as she told him — and being lost in her own head, with so much threatening to overwhelm her already. Being around Cassian might be dangerous, but he's safe, and with her walls lower than usual, that's all that counts. Even when she's forcing herself to keep a distance, even when she's too scared of what they're doing and what it might mean, she tends to want to be around him. Now she thinks she might need to, a weight still heavy in her chest, lungs aching like they're filled with smoke. There's no one who could understand that like he does. He's the one who was there.
Outside his apartment, she fumbles for the key he gave her, then gives up, leaning her forehead against the door. "Cassian?" she calls, not caring that the woman across the hall, who already seems to disapprove of her, will probably hate her all the more for it. "It's me."