If anything, Jyn can appreciate Lincoln's silence before he speaks. She knows he's thoughtful about what he says, and when words are far from her strong suit, she can't blame him at all for wanting to take a moment to choose his carefully. Better that than some flippant, halfhearted response. It's almost a relief when his answer does come, too. She wouldn't have assumed that he would think her awful for it, but it's nice to be met with a sense of understanding rather than someone thinking she's being unfair. Maybe she is too closed-off, but she became that way for a reason, and she can't just magically change it overnight now that her father has quite literally appeared in her life again after fifteen years. She doesn't know him. Just as importantly, he doesn't know her. They're strangers who just happen to be related. If that's going to change, it isn't going to be overnight.

"I think he might want... something more than I know how to give yet," she admits. He'd been so emotional that day he arrived, and while she can't say she blames him, it was still awkward to be on the receiving end of, especially when her every instinct tells her to bottle such things up. She didn't have the first idea what to do being looked at like that, any response from her seeming cold and unfeeling.

"You don't think it makes me awful? Not knowing if I'm ready for that?"