Not even oatmeal? [ Everyone should know how to cook oatmeal, in Cassian's opinion, but his hand doesn't stop moving at all. ] Well. I can cook. What kind of food do you like best?
she doesn't say it, somehow, but it's there in the half smile making her eyes crinkle up in the corners. ]
I'm not sure I have a favorite, but... [ anything but prison slop. being on the run didn't necessarily give her a lot of regular options -- quick and portable were her staples -- but it did give her the opportunity to try (steal) the foods of different planets.
eventually she settles on the space version of cachapas, describing the thick corn pancake with soft, buttery cheese and sweet fruit jam. it's incredibly simple and basic, but the way jyn tells it, it's the most decadent thing in the galaxy. ]
Sweet, or semi-sweet, dark or milk, sugar and something bitter but delicious and...okay. Okay. [ He starts massaging the base of her neck. ] We'll fix that.
I suppose it depends on the meal, doesn't it? [ abruptly she rolls over to her other side, facing him as it were, forehead pressed against his stomach a bit before she shifts back so she can more easily look at him but also stay draped in his lap like a particularly needy kitten. ]
Spice, always. I also like toast but I don't care for bread much otherwise. Coffee and tea, for different reasons. [ He smiles down at her, curling into him like that. ]
[ honestly, jyn knows that if they had caught him, even before scarif, they probably wouldn't have bothered with a cell. if she was a liability, cassian was... far more important. ]
I learned things, [ she protests with a touch of lightheartedness, trying for some levity to the subject matter. ] Mostly about the gross bodily function of my cellmate admittedly. Great exercise, at least.
On Wobani? Not very long. [ more than a day, less than a couple of months, but she decides that isn't worth noting to cassian. worth noting is that this little troublemaker had to clarify this particular prison when calculating her sentence. like gd girl. ]
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she doesn't say it, somehow, but it's there in the half smile making her eyes crinkle up in the corners. ]
I'm not sure I have a favorite, but... [ anything but prison slop. being on the run didn't necessarily give her a lot of regular options -- quick and portable were her staples -- but it did give her the opportunity to try (steal) the foods of different planets.
eventually she settles on the space version of cachapas, describing the thick corn pancake with soft, buttery cheese and sweet fruit jam. it's incredibly simple and basic, but the way jyn tells it, it's the most decadent thing in the galaxy. ]
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[ Everyone has opinions on chocolate.
*later, meaning: as soon as he is able to get the materials together, evict everyone from a kitchen, and have her occupied for a little while. ]
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[ yeah. ]
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Sweet, or semi-sweet, dark or milk, sugar and something bitter but delicious and...okay. Okay. [ He starts massaging the base of her neck. ] We'll fix that.
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And you?
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He captures her hand and kisses her fingers. ]
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I learned things, [ she protests with a touch of lightheartedness, trying for some levity to the subject matter. ] Mostly about the gross bodily function of my cellmate admittedly. Great exercise, at least.
[ girl has got GUNS SON. ]
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How long were you there?
[ They never told him. ]
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Was it always forgery? [ Was it always inadvertently helping other people? Or not so inadvertently, really. ]
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