realists | open ✧ the time to fight is now

Okay. [ Cassian swallows, then nods. ] I meant what I said, I'm not going anywhere. There's...a lot there, romantically. [ He gives her a smile. He's just...he wanted to let her take the lead on that, or at least most of one.

Seducing people for ops is not something he's unfamiliar with but loving someone else is. So. ] I don't want to fuck it up. What's between us.

You can't, [ jyn tells him with all seriousness. ] ...do you want to read something else?

[ There's conflict and fear in his expression. Cassian does not think so highly of himself as to presume he can't screw things up. ]

Hm.

A story, or a poem?

Mmm, a poem. Or I could read to you...?

We could switch, back and forth. [ Since sleeping is not, really, on the table. ] That would make it your turn.

Seems fair. [ she reaches for the datapad and shifts a bit more to sit crosslegged again and scroll through to find a selection. ] Still a poem? Maybe not... this-- [ she looks up, lingering on a poem. ] Poem, still?

Poem works just fine. [ He settles into the bed, resting his head against her shoulder and closing his eyes. ]

[ she picked a bad one for the conversation they just had and her desire to get out of that conversation but she also doesn't want to go searching for a poem that has no romantic undertones. she will find none, taking a deep breath before she begins: ]

I had too much to dream last night.
I didn't mean to take you by storm.
I didn't mean to scare you away.
I just had a litllte too much to dream.

I came into the room, you were there
I had to approach you the best way I felt I could.
I didn't stop for no signs.

Dreams of you and me, taking the rough with the smooth.
I let myself fall, hoping your arms would catch me.
I didn't stop to ask any questions.
I guess I had a little too much to dream.

Momma says a girl is nothing without her dreams
But I let mine take over. I had no control.

I opened my eyes and saw your lady standing by your side...
She wasn't there last night.
I'm sorry...
I just had a little too much to dream.

I like that. [ Cassian gives her a smile, before taking the database back and scrolling through it. ] Estaré allí para atraparte. [ Because apologizing seems both silly and not enough, in this moment.

Cassian clears his throat. ]

Moon

Hung
like a red-hot coin
lifted from an oven, hung.
From time to time a white veil
shadows her face,
like me, when I lose you.

Hanging
like a round
of freshly-made cheese, hanging.
A thousand shafts of her light
cast cool across the earth
like me, when I look at you.

[ she ducks her head a little shyly, takes the pad back. she studies one of the poems for a long time, a familiar sadness creeping in behind her eyes, somberness returning to her expression. ]

One river gives
Its journey to the next.

We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.

We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.

We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it—

Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.

Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:

Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me

What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give — together, we made

Something greater from the difference.

[ Cassian reaches out and pulls her in a little closer. This is, he thinks, an interesting sort of experiment, when neither of them are able to sleep. See who can touch the ther more with the words of people from other planets. ]

Heaven's kitchen is supplied with infernal utensils,
sagging, lilac-coloured cauldrons, fat forks
between whose prongs are tangled strings
of archangels' spit and frayed voices
that rose from the left-hand shirt of God.

A soup was being cooked when Love appeared,
a rare broth sprinkled with flaming scriptures
and glints of seaside holidays. The oil became fire,
seeped into the skin and stayed, vigorous,
iridescent, in the eyes of the blessed.

The elaborate coven stopped work: elongated odours
invaded the heavenly kitchen; pure spices
for the feverish construction of Spring
and its rippling; Aprils whose flowers are teeth,
whose jaws are crammed with dragonflies;
Eros's entire wardrobe for the Salad
with its curled coiffure; the brilliance of stabbed embraces
and the sea of hands, blue as can be, multiplying.

[ if jyn were the type to swoon, this would be her moment. it's not fair, really. cassian has such a beautiful voice. ]

Come and find me
come and claim whats yours
come and cast your soulful spell on me
capture my heart
and let me unfold in yours.

[ Cassian is quiet for a while after that, considering her with the reflection of the light from the datapad on her face. ]

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent, starving I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disquiets me,
I search the liquid sound of your steps all day.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
For your hands the color of the wild grain,
I hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your loveliness,
The nose, sovereign of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

And I walk hungry, smelling the twilight
Looking for you, for your hot heart,
Like a puma in the barren wilderness.

[ she swallows, eyes wide and feeling suddenly breathless, flooded with a warmth that makes her shiver. ]

You win.

Mhm. I'd say it's a tie.

[ He does brush his fingers along her cheek, across her nose. ] Do you want to try sleeping? Maybe just a little?

Maybe. [ she's willing to lay down at the very least, shifting over so he can stretch out first. ]

[ He doesn't know if it'll work, but he figures they have little to lose. It's not as though they aren't both familiar with nightmares, and they certainly need rest.

Stretching out is easier said than done but he manages it, laying alongside her, blanket up to his shoulders. ]

[ what if...

jyn is totally the big spoon?

because she is right now, slotting herself neatly behind him and looping her arm around his waist like he is her own personal teddy bear, resting her forehead against the back of his neck. her hand searches around on the bed for a moment before catching his fingers with her own. ]

[ Some quiet, satisfied little sound escapes from Cassian's lips when Jyn takes his hand, and he squeezes hers. His other arm ends up tucked beneath his head, and he tries to let sleep slide over him.

It does. For a little while, anyway. ]

[ jyn fights sleep every step of the way so when it takes her she's exhausted and can't fight any longer. it also means she is too tired to fight nightmares and so cassian has to deal with her unconscious thrashing until she wakes up with a start. ]

[ He's awake as soon as she starts moving (he dreamed he took the shot at Galen, that she saw and shot him in return, and that she died on that beach alone) but doesn't say anything, just turns to face her and tries to avoid getting a black eye, instead putting his hand behind her neck and pressing his forehead to hers, whispering her name until she wakes up. ]

[ her eyes snap open with a shuddering breath that leads into the shaky breaths of trying to get a hold of herself. her hand lifts to curl tightly around her crystal, knuckles white. she calms exponentially faster next to him. the first few days of separate beds were horrible. ] I'm okay.

Do you want to talk about it? [ His voice is quiet, muffled by sleep and concern. He rarely, if ever, talked about his nightmares with Kay, but this is different. They're different.

Either way, he won't push. ]

Lah'mu. [ she frowns, shifting to bury her face against his chest. ] Krennic, he... [ well, he knows. krennic murdered her mother. ]

I saw it.

[ He knew what Krennic had done, but he hadn't realized that Jyn bore witness to it. Automatically he's holding her, one hand smoothing her hair, the other at her back.]

I'm so sorry.

[ So glad he shot the bastard. ]

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