"I am," he replies, raising his voice so Jyn will hear. It's perhaps no surprise that he's in the kitchen, currently keeping an eye over a skillet of onions and mushrooms, simmering in wine. He's relaxed, the stress of a night shift evaporating with the alcohol in the marsala sauce.

Nodding to her over the divider between kitchen and living room, Cassian gestures at the stove with a spoon. "Dinner's almost ready." It smells good, at least he thinks it does. Hopefully Jyn will agree.

As she comes closer, Cassian catches the faint concern in her expression. It's not something he thinks anyone else would recognize-Jyn has an impressive Sabacc face–but Cassian knows her better than most. For the last two years, he's watched her face, learned its subtleties.

"What's on your mind?"