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Jyn climbed.
It had taken her just several days after returning from Scarif to fall into a kind of a routine at the Rebel Alliance base. Now that she and the rest of the Rogue One crew had been there for more than a week, these little habits were like new muscle memories, 'new' being the operative word. The expansive, lush landscape that shrouded their base of operations wasn't something she was used to, having spent so long on Wobani in recent times – or at least that was what it felt like.
But it wouldn't have mattered if Jyn had been imprisoned by the Empire for days or years. It was all a blur. Even before then, she hadn't had the luxury to stop and bask in any sense of freedom; to take in scenery of any kind and simply relax. Her days had always been numbered, in a way. Being raised by a surrogate warrior father meant that she had always been underground somewhat. Of course, she would never forget her years on the farm with her father and mother, but those times were long gone. They were what Jyn had come to privately term her 'glory days' – a time in which she could run in open fields with her arms stretched out either side of her, dive into freezing rivers, and even just sit in her parents' warm embrace without a care in the world. Young Jyn had dug holes in the dirt and played with dolls, and helped her father farm and study plant-life. It had been a quiet life, and Jyn herself had been a quiet child – she understood from her young age that secrecy was important to her father and their family – but it was simple, inquisitive, and good. Full of promise.
You will never win. Even her mother's final words had held onto a modicum of that hope. It was a tragedy that at that same moment, such a concept was stamped out in the young girl while she watched the scene unfold from behind the tall grass. Jyn had watched her mother die in her father's arms and then run as fast as her little legs could carry her because that was what was expected of her; a gut reaction to carry out her parents' instructions. There was no time to process. That would happen in stretch of time she spent waiting for Saw Gerrera to arrive, with only the pebbles and cold, still air for company. Then, the roof to her hiding place was yanked open and a new life began for the girl. She could never look at freedom the same way again.
Jyn's arms ached and her thighs burned as she continued her ascent up the ladder. The chamber she was climbing through was tiny and claustrophobic, and dead silent except for a slight whistle of a breeze somewhere above her. Eventually, Jyn made her way to a hatch and easily turned the lever attached to it and pushed it open upwards. A rush of fresh air hit her in the face as it entered the chamber, and she pulled herself up and out. She was on the roof of the main Alliance stronghold. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, and the pink and orange sky seemed to bleed into the tops of gold-tinged trees that lined the horizon. Glittering cliff faces bordered her view.
Jyn had witnessed this exact vista every single night for days, yet it never failed to bring a smile to her face. She was in awe of everything she had denied herself growing up, and the sunset and endless sky had been one of them.
It's not a problem if you don't look up.
For years after Saw and the Rebels had left her alone, loaded blaster in hand and no certain future in sight, Jyn had resolved to keep her head down; literally and figuratively. There was no way she could live openly, her formative years being shrouded in so much repression and secrecy that such a life was all she knew. Anyway, it wasn't as though she wanted any more attention. She could bitterly remember the way Saw's soldiers eyed her cautiously; wary of her abilities and her unknowable allegiance and wondering if she was an 'Imperial sympathiser' like her father. Jyn had taken to being a soldier like a duck to water, and it likely worried Saw's comrades. It hadn't matter how many years she had spent with them – sleeping in the same bunks and running in the same dirt, carrying out the same objectives. They never trusted her completely. Saw did, but he had abandoned her all the same.
So Jyn thieved and fought her way into adulthood, keeping her gaze tilted to the tips of her boots. She lived in fog and shade, the hood of her jacket pulled over her delicate heart-shaped face and her green eyes stone-cold that they turned almost icy grey in certain light. Jyn Erso would have rather become a permanent shadow if it meant a return to a quiet life.
Then the Rebellion burst through the doors of her prison convoy on Wobani and her life changed yet again. And again, it was nothing she had asked for. So she was perfectly willing to complete her initial task and get on her merry way. But no sooner had her decision been made that her father's face appeared before her – his voice ringing true in her ears even if it sounded aged and battle-worn – and it was like she could suddenly feel again. Every good memory she had worked so hard to suppress – the times when soil actually felt good in her hands, when the smell of grass wasn't mingled with the stench of death, when her clothes weren't stained with blood, her own or otherwise… – it all came rushing back. Transfixed by Galen Erso's flickering image in holographic form, a rush of emotions pummelled her body to the ground; what Jyn would give to see him again in the flesh. More than that, to see the world he had once fought for; the one that had disappeared the moment he was arrested. It should have become her future or, indeed, anybody else's. The Rebellion suddenly had a tangible endgame.
Jyn wasn't numb anymore after that. That same fire that had compelled her to stay and fight and win big for the cause was the same one that ignited her soul as she looked at the sky painted red and orange before her, and breathed in the freshest air she had ever tasted in years. She could never tire of this. Just the feeling of that breeze between her fingertips reminded her on what she could never take for granted again.
Jyn was still scared to love it completely, though. She wasn't necessarily afraid of losing this feeling again; it was more like she was frightened to believe it could even be hers in the first place. So much of her life was lived for other people. Part of her little 'exercise' – getting away from her fellow Rebels even for just a few moments, right before the curfew sirens blared throughout the compound, for some much-needed alone time – was something she found secretly therapeutic. There was something calming about this kind of solitude. It was a start towards something like healing. Yet, pieces of the puzzle were still missing.
She couldn't believe that she and her companions had made it out alive. Scarif had been seconds away from burning as she and Cassian had jumped onto one of the last Rebel ships still inside the barrier. The Captain had been quite badly injured, and there had been no time to wait for anyone else before they made the jump to light speed. It was only later on in the overcrowded hospital wing that Jyn was reunited with Bodhi, Chirrut, and Baze. K-2 would be alright after a tune-up. Everyone had been far from unscathed, but they were alive. They would be well.
Jyn sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the roof that dipped into what looked like oblivion. Such precariousness was a strange way for her to keep present and alert, but she enjoyed the freedom of letting her limbs splay beneath her. It didn't matter that she shivered from being so high up. She liked being closer to the clouds just as the first stars peeked out, twinkling and winking at her.
Despite being intently focused on the deepening sky and distant lilting birdsong, the sounds of footsteps up metal ladder rungs made Jyn turn her head. Eventually, Cassian's head emerged from the open hatch. He observed his surroundings for a few moments before noticing Jyn, smiling slightly when their eyes met. If it had been anybody else invading her personal hiding place like this, she would have probably felt no need to return the gesture. But she and Cassian had come to a physical ease around each other, especially after the events on Scarif. Everything happened so quickly, but he had quite literally saved her, and the memories of the elevator and the beach had carried her through the following days as she awaited news of his recovery. So the smile she returned naturally tugged at the corners of her lips. It was easy and safe.
"You found me," she said simply as she eyed him climbing the rest of the way up onto the roof. He struggled a little, and she couldn't help but worry that the long climb was too much exertion for someone still on the mend.
"It wasn't exactly hard," Cassian replied nonchalantly. "You do know that keeping doors and hatches open for more than thirty seconds sets off a silent alarm in the main control room, right? Everyone's known you've been up here for days."
He waited for Jyn's permission before he took a seat next to her. Cassian kept his eyes trained on her facial features, letting his gaze wandering but always returning to her light olive eyes. And Jyn didn't have any problem admitting – at least silently to herself for now – that she really liked it whenever this happened.
That was how it was with the two of them; long looks and enigmatic smiles, and a deep, tingly feeling of longing in her heart.
She scrutinised him too – studying everything from his angular cheekbones to the sharp point of his chin, training her eyes back up the bridge of his nose to his big brown eyes bordered by crow's feet and filled with...something that Jyn couldn't quite place. But it felt like she sunk herself into the warmest, most comforting bath whenever she looked into them.
"They never sent anyone to come and get me before," she murmured.
"Technically, they didn't. I just wanted to see how you were doing," Cassian answered. "I mean, I wasn't sure if you would even let me. There's always a fifty per cent chance that you'd tell me to go away and leave you alone. You don't strike me as the type to like company very much, Jyn Erso."
"Fair assessment, Captain," Jyn replied. But there's a lot you still don't know about me, Cassian, she thought.
"So… how are you?" he asked her tentatively after a brief spell of silence. "Bodhi thinks you're getting distant and restless. I think Baze and Chirrut agree."
"Chirrut can't even see me, though."
"Like that's stopped him somehow figuring us all out in two seconds!"
Jyn's smile widened. "Alright, true." She paused for a moment. "And…what do you think's been happening with me?"
"Me? I always just assumed you'd tell us whenever the time came—"
"—That's such a non-answer!—"
"—Well, you haven't answered me either, Jyn. You can't really complain about people being secretive when that's just what you are." Cassian's smile did not leave his features and Jyn understood he was not necessarily being critical. Nonetheless, his tone had adopted a sense of firmness, the commanding nature of his military roots showing itself for a second.
Jyn studied him for a few moments, assessing how much truth she was willing to divulge. The look in his eyes was eager as ever, a quiet supportiveness mingled with the darkness that she knew accompanied him everywhere. Caught up in her own world, it was easy for Jyn to briefly forget that Cassian had struggled a lot in the past too. Everything from their backstories to some parts of their personalities were painfully similar. Cassian was definitely much more of a people person, but sometimes Jyn wondered how much of that was just done out of necessity; the nature of his occupation as well as a need to connect with other people and fill certain voids when she herself went in a drastically opposite direction.
"I'm okay," she eventually sighed in response. "As okay as I can be. It feels weird though, being in one place for so long and not really wanting to leave it."
"We've been back for less than two weeks, Jyn."
"Exactly. That's actually a really long time for someone like me," she said. The smile she was wearing turned more wistful, and immediately more apologetic. Words were tough for Jyn and she wished they weren't so. She was too used to silence that everything that came out of her mouth always sounded too…much to her untrained ears. What if she revealed too much? Or worse, what if that was all just white noise to other people?
Never mind that Cassian was certainly not like 'other people', Jyn suddenly felt awkward. She tore her eyes from his just as the sun began dipping over the horizon, forcing herself to think about something else besides her perceived fumble of oversharing. She could still feel his gaze on her, which only caused her to defiantly focus on the panorama before her even as she felt a blush creep up her neck to the tips of her ears.
They both sat quietly as the sun got lower and lower over the horizon. Yet, it was a little difficult for Jyn to concentrate on anything else with Cassian next to her. Neither of them really had a concept of personal space either – they barely had from the moment they met. He was sitting mere inches from her and if they placed their hands flat in the space between them, it wouldn't take much for their fingers to touch. It wouldn't have been the first time that had happened. Everything happened on Scarif the first time and now it was just the aftermath rolling out at a painful snail's pace. She longed to hold his hand again, feel his hands caressing the small of her back in a tight embrace. Even from what little distance between them, she could feel his body heat which only caused her to shiver more at the memory.
Without the heat of battle and the stress of almost certain death, it was like Jyn's body simultaneously loved and rejected these new feelings. She couldn't imagine anybody but Cassian being there sharing this rather intimate, private moment of contemplation with her, but had absolutely no idea how to accommodate his presence. It wasn't like he was asking her for anything in particular – she understood that his concern for her had always been genuine, even as early as their first real mission together on Jedha – but she was still worried that her reactions were inappropriate or simply not enough. She genuinely liked his attention, but had no vocabulary to navigate it into a nuanced relationship.
And yes. She wanted a relationship.
The loner aspect of Jyn's personality would say she was powerless to her feelings, which left a bad taste in her mouth. But something else inside her also told her to trust that Cassian wouldn't endanger her agency. And that notion looked more and more appealing as time went on.
Jyn stole a glance Cassian's way; he had finally decided to focus on the skyline as well, and she recognised a look in his eyes. It was one she often found herself wearing these days while admiring that same view; that of tranquillity and some semblance of true peace. Watching at him observing the vista – a view that felt boundless and promising – was almost enough for her to forget that they were technically still in wartime. Peace wasn't anywhere in sight for the galaxy, but this was surely a welcomed, if tiny, reprieve.
Finally, the sun's last rays dissolved into the deep blues and purples of the impending night. Jyn and Cassian lingered there for a bit, but with this primary objective of sunset-gazing completed, their usual tension came back in full force.
Jyn wordlessly – mechanically – stood up to leave. Something was fighting her limbs from being this invariably strange and gawky but her head told her she had to…hide again. But before she got the chance to, Cassian quickly reached out to grasp her hand. It was gentle, like the way their hands had met on the beach on Scarif; a silent moment of solidarity between them as they waited to be picked up by the Alliance convoy. But this time, in the privacy of this hiding spot, his thumb took the opportunity to lightly run back and forth over the back of her hand. Jyn's eyes met Cassian's only to find a sense of ardour in behind them; a kind that was only reserved for her.
"Sun's gone. We should be getting back," she said, the breathlessness in her speech more evident than she would have liked as her heartrate sped up considerably.
"Jyn…" His voice was so low, it was barely audible. "Stay. Just a bit longer."
She told herself not to ask it, but her instantaneous, unfiltered comeback of, "Why?" came anyway.
As Cassian's brows knitted together in bewilderment at her disjointed response, Jyn sighed, shaking her head slightly. "That sounded rude, I'm sorry."
"That's fine," Cassian reassured her, his thumb still circling the back of her hand.
"Oh no, it's not," Jyn declared. She extracted her hand from his and crossed her arms in front of her, simultaneously trembling from the brisk night wind and experiencing a burning sensation in her stomach. "I don't like not knowing what to say in this situation. I don't like how that's the way it is because of this tension between us."
If he asks 'what tension'—
Cassian's eyes never left her as he carefully stood up to level their gazes. He didn't move any closer, nor did he speak, but that look persisted. It was boring straight into her soul, continuing to heat her up from within. It was the most deliciously alarming desire she had ever felt.
The idea that silence in a space so open could seem pressurised seemed uncanny, but that was exactly what it felt like.
"Aren't you going to say something back?" Jyn finally asked impatiently.
She expected him to chuckle at her – somehow make her feel small for her discomfort – but Cassian kept his seriousness from before when he replied, "I was just going to say we don't have to talk. I'd be grateful if you just stayed with me and we sat here.
"But I also know what you mean," he continued. "It's probably time we addressed what's going on between us."
It was Jyn's turn to look confused, and that made him smile slightly. It was not one of condescension but one of acceptance instead; he was happy about admitting it. The stiffness in the back of her neck began to ease, but still – still – she was scared to hope.
Cassian slowly made his way towards Jyn until they were, once again, far closer than any two comrades needed to be. She tilted her head upwards and watched the shadows falling over his angular features. A single lock of hair fell in his eyes that he did not care to sweep away. Instead, he raised his hands to cup her small face, his slender fingers grazing the nape of her neck and finding their way into her hair. Her own grasp reached for his forearms and she tentatively ran her fingers over the length of them.
Cassian leant in and gently put his forehead against Jyn's. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, the combination of his touch and scent surrounding her in a kind of embrace. They lightly nuzzled for a while, until Cassian's lips found their way to Jyn's forehead. He softly pressed them to her cold skin, letting them linger there, and she sighed contently in response. Jyn opened her eyes once more and wanted so badly to gaze up at Cassian fondly again. But, it was dark now, and she couldn't really see him clearly at all. The roof had several lamps dotted along its edges at certain intervals, but nothing that provided real illumination. Thankfully, this also kept them hidden from view from anyone walking the grounds of the base, but Jyn would give anything to be able to survey every little detail of Cassian's face while she was this close.
The pressure was slowly releasing – or rather, evolving from her anxious internalised worry into that comfortable notion she had experienced earlier, and it was an utter relief. Their little caresses slowly changed too, as Jyn leant into Cassian completely and he wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, her face turned inwards into the warmth of his neck. She wasn't shaky anymore.
It was amazing to feel like this with someone else; like she could be safe regardless of what happened around her. Maybe it doesn't need to be just me and the sunset. This could be real too.
"I wish I knew how to get out of my head," she murmured absentmindedly. "There's just so much I want to – need to – know about you. I get glimpses like we could fit together somehow and I guess…I want to know if that's true or if I'm just too hopeful—"
"—It's true, Jyn." Cassian's hand was cradling her crown as he kissed the top of her head. She could feel his pulse where her hand rested over his heart; it was a little rushed too.
Jyn was still, her heartrate picking up speed once again. It felt different this time, though. Now, she felt strength surge through her. Jyn lifted her head from its resting spot and raised both hands to run her fingertips down the sides of Cassian's face. She traced her thumb over his lips before bringing hers up to meet them. It was a tentative peck at first, but eventually, with a confidence she didn't used to understand, Jyn captured Cassian's mouth with hers. Both her arms wrapped around his neck as he tightened his own grip around her torso.
Jyn wanted to kiss Cassian with all her feverish might, the headiness of the moment filling her with dizzy delight and a buzz she had never quite known. So she was absolutely thrilled when he returned her neediness. It felt like a lifetime of suffering had brought her there to something she supposed was akin to true bliss. There was no telling how long they stood there in their dance of lips and tongues, with only the stars to witness their intimacy. They only stopped to come up for air.
"Oh god," Jyn sighed. "You know what, Cassian? I take risks with everything. You'd understand that more than most. Everything except… I don't know if I can even say it yet. But I think you know anyway."
Her voice never went louder than a whisper.
Cassian replied, "I do," with a hint of a smile in his tone. "Trust me, Jyn. We've got all the time in the world to figure this out."
She could call him out on being a cheesy liar; as cheesy as she had come to expect from him. In worlds not too far from them, the galaxy was at severe unrest. They and the rest of their ragtag crew would be deployed somewhere soon and tomorrows were never going to be certain. But right then, being in his arms, it seemed true and that was enough. She could begin to redefine her glory days.