"Okay," Jyn murmurs, sounding unusually young in her relief, her own voice small and quiet. It's a flimsy excuse, and under any other circumstances, she would be quick to tell him as much. Right now, though, she simply doesn't care. It's enough —enough for her to stay and to tell herself that that's why she's doing it, as a matter of convenience rather than his wanting her close by for some other reason or the simple fact of her not wanting to move, something she isn't at all ready to admit to. Whatever it means, she should run away from it. Instead, she lets herself relax against him again, breathing in deep, her eyes half-shut. She still doesn't much want to sleep, unwilling to face the images that plagued her when she slept before, but at least her odds of it seem better now, when just being able to feel the steady beat of his heart allows her to start to drift.

She's still conscious but just barely when she speaks again, only half-aware of the words leaving her mouth at all. "The apartment," she says, a hazy exhale, "the one with... Naboo marble and Endor hardwood and a Coruscant view. It should have a featherbed. Twice as big as this. Maybe three times. And — and a real shower. With hot water that never runs out."

It's a silly, pointless dream, childish in a way she hasn't allowed herself to be in years, but it's infinitely better than the one that woke her before. Just this once, she can have this indulgence.