nextchance | (no subject)

By the time she leaves Lincoln, Jyn is a little dazed, her head spinning as she makes her way towards the edge of the city and back to the house. It is, in all fairness, a lot to take in. He's left her with a lot to think about. He would have even if she hadn't already said yes — something that she can't help wondering about, in retrospect, if it was the right decision after all — but she has, which means she also has to figure out how she's even going to do this. She doubts she'll ever be organized enough for lesson plans or anything like that, but she ought to at least have some sort of approach in mind.

Of course, every time she thinks that, she also goes back to thinking that she's crazy, that there's absolutely no way she could possibly teach children even just how to fight, so it's probably better that she stop trying to consider it on her own. She'd want to tell Cassian anyway. Something like this, she couldn't just keep to herself, and though she suspects he might be somewhat biased in the matter, always seeming to be willing to see her as better than she is, maybe he'll be able to help, or at least talk a little sense into her. If there's anyone who'll get it, it's him. He was brought up as a soldier, too.

"I'm home," she calls when she opens the door, quickly closing it behind her so she can crouch and pet Sprinkles, who's already come running over, the little dog eagerly jumping up against her. "Cassian, you in?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I always trust you now," Cassian says. He's trusted her implicitly since Scarif. It's strange to think that he also fell a little in love with her then too, though the first he noticed far before the second. It's his own judgment, his own merits he doesn't trust but it's too late by far to say Jyn shouldn't trust him. It'd be callous, given that they're married. He just needs to turn that allowance inward.

"You're the only one I trust with all my loopholes." He scrunches up his face, realizing that it sounds suggestive out loud rather than sincere, but he hopes Jyn understands.

To make up for it, he leans over to kiss the top of Jyn's head and spends a moment with his arm around her, just holding her close for the simple fact that he can. The hardest words have already been exchanged, though he doesn't expect everything to lighten back to the conversation they'd had before dinner. "The food's gone cold. Want me to heat it back up?"

Jyn stays still, again, when he pulls her in close, taking a deep breath to try to pull herself together. It isn't a rejection, or at least she hopes he knows it isn't meant as such. She'd be pushing him away and walking off somewhere if it were. Before, when they first started sleeping together and she started spending days on end in his apartment, she would put physical distance between them when she started to feel like she was getting too close or like she made herself too vulnerable. She has no desire to do that now, but it still isn't easy for her to talk about things like this. That would be the case under normal, equally serious circumstances, but it's even more so with the weight of something they've been carrying around and leaving undiscussed for a year and a half. She's left feeling strangely raw now, sad in a way she wouldn't have the first idea how to articulate. Even if she tried, it would probably just bring them back in circles and not help anything.

She just has to pull herself together. Easier said than done when Cassian has long since become the person around whom she lets her guard down the most, but she still ought to try.

"Yeah, alright," she agrees with a nod. With her stomach in knots, she doesn't feel half as hungry as she did when she first got here, but she's too much in the habit of not letting herself turn down food. Especially after Cassian cooked for her, she doesn't want to let that go to waste or to seem unappreciative just because of an unexpected turn of conversation. Instinctively, she thinks that it shouldn't even matter now, except she thinks the fact that it's always mattered might be at least part of what's stopped her from bringing it up. "Sorry. That would be great. It really is good, I just got... sidetracked."