He had come back. But he didn't have a plan beyond that fact.
What now? Surrender to what he wanted—what she'd made clear they both wanted—and appease them both in the moment, but make the inevitability of their situation all the worse? Solidify this state of unhappy equilibrium, no longer even enjoying the illusion of trust and closeness? Break up the marriage in character, forfeit its benefits but stop endangering the mission over it?
All he wanted to do was hold her and sleep. Really sleep, as he hadn't all night—as, it seemed, he couldn't outside her arms. Wrapped up in her and her in him, as they had only last night.
"Is my being here okay?" Not a challenge, not a dare, not passive aggressive, not even an act: simple, earnest, sad-eyed and soft-voiced wondering if any of this was salvageable—if she could ever possibly be glad to see him again.
Well. Neither did Jyn, so at least they were both standing in a similar place.
Logically speaking, where could they go from this point? She knew too much about him, who he was, why he was here to ever go back to the place that they had been before.
She couldn't ignore it. And there was no taking back the decision to follow, no matter how much she wished she would have just gone the opposite way altogether.
Why are you here? Why are you doing this?
Jyn hadn't had much of an appetite anyway, but now, it had disappeared completely, and she set her half-empty bowl on the table in front of her, suddenly queasy at the thought of trying to finish it.
"It's where you live, isn't it?", she asked, and it wasn't a challenge, wasn't a dar, wasn't passive-agressive, and wasn't put on in any way, shape, or form. It was tremulous and uncertain, the voice of a young woman who felt small and scared and didn't know if she had just lost everything she had ever cared about.
Her words and tone of voice hit him like a rancor riding a gundark. He didn't know if it was the right or fair or kind decision, but it was the only one he was capable of. He crossed the space between them and went down on his knee in front of her. He looked up into her face. "Jyn… I'm so, so sorry. I made you think I didn't want you. That's not it. That's not it at all."
Oh, this was bad. This was going to lead to disaster. She should have admitted that she had followed him the evening before, that she'd heard him speak to his droid companion, that she knew who he was and who he worked for and why he was even here, but ...
The words wouldn't come.
"You ... don't have to explain - anything", she tried, even though Force knew, she wanted to know.
This was never going to work - them - and she should just admit it here and now, make as quick and easy a break as possible so that neither of them were led to ruin because they wanted each other.
This was never going to work. It was built on a foundation of lies. He needed to go before he got caught.
His looked at her hands. Tentatively reached out with his own—stopped shy of touching her. "Listen… I didn't get much sleep. I'm going to take the day off. We could…" He didn't know what. But if she did, whatever it was, he was open to it.
Jyn almost - almost stretched her fingers out just enough to complete the circuit. But she was afraid of what might happen if she did. "I didn't sleep much either", she murmured, shrugging. "And I already took a personal day. So ... "
So they could sleep. Or not. Or talk. Or not. Or ... just let things be strained and strange.
It was a dangerous game to play, to tempt fate, but Jyn wanted to be selfish just this once. This wasn't meant to last, and Cassian could disappear at any moment, and she just wanted ...
"Yeah. Tried to help me sleep, I think. But - um ... it wasn't the same, so."
Was he thinking clearly? …Was he thinking? Were his abilities to read, profile, anticipate, working extremely well, or working at all?
Was he (the same question again and again and again) being sincere through the lies, or being the worst asshole manipulator in the galaxy?
All he knew was he was kneeling, looking up into her face. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, he'd taken both of her hands with both of his, and doubled forward, pressing his closed eyes to their joint fists.
As he hadn't in years, as he shouldn't as Sward, but he did anyway, he fell into Caridan. "Lo siento. Lo siento. I'm so sorry."
Maybe she was just too exhausted - emotionally and physically - to think as critically as she would have wanted. Because Jyn didn't question the apology, didn't pull her hands away and put some distance (more distance) between them, didn't wonder if he was being sincere or if this was just another lie.
He'd been lying for his whole life.
She took a long, shaky breath, but made no move away. Maybe it was a mistake on her part, but in the moment, Jyn couldn't find it within herself enough to care.
"Yes. I do." He turned his face and pressed a kiss to her hand. Then sat back on his heels, shaking his head. "…I have no right to ask you this. But can we… just… rest, Jyn? A little while?"
Jyn shut her eyes, her brow furrowing gently, her brain screaming about how terrible an idea lying down together would be, her heart trying just as desperately to persuade her how right.
One heartbeat passed. Another, then another -
"Yes", she hoarsely whispered. "We can - we do that."
He shut his eyes still tighter. That… there… might just have been an actual tear that tracked down his cheek. He nodded. Opened his eyes. Looked up at her with abject, wretched gratitude. He stood and offered her his hand.
He couldn't fake that. He couldn't fake that. But maybe, if he were a practiced liar ... he could. Jyn didn't know what to think, but her heart ached in a way that made her gasp.
But she accepted the offered hand and curled her trembling fingers around his, a moment's hesitation in order to find her strength before she stood, too.
His fingers curled around hers, back. Their pressure light, tentative, but enough to forestall letting go. He shifted the angle of their clasped hands, matching her as she stood, to keep them joined as he led the way into the bedroom.
Jyn didn't want to let go. But her grip was loose, just in case Cassian did. It was strange to think of him in terms of a name she didn't know - a man that was a stranger - but she couldn't allow herself to think of him as anyone or anything else. She'd get lost in fantasy if she did that.
She followed along easily, no doubt or second-guessing every step they took, Argi following along as though he didn't want to be left alone.
Regretfully, Jyn let go once they entered the bedroom, if only so she could sit at the edge of the bed and try to calm her nerves, her erratic heartbeats.
This time, it was Jyn that tentatively sought contact - just the gentle brush of fingertips to fingertips, but more than enough to feed the guilt gnawing in the pit of her belly.
"Don't you want to change?", she murmured. "You should be comfortable."
He looked down, yet again, at their hands; his fingers crooking, tips returning the contact of hers. Their hands seemed to be communicating, expressing themselves, better than the rest of them.
He removed his hand only enough to unfasten and pull off his jacket. He loosened the collar of his shirt but didn't open it further. He bent double to remove his shoes. He sat up straight again, eyes glancing to her face, waiting for the next cue.
It was difficult to find the words to say, but Jyn still found herself hoping that the touch of her hand, however slight, was enough to say I want this or please don't go or any number of other things she couldn't say.
She sat still, watching and waiting. He didn't say anything once he removed some items of clothing and loosened others, and it took a long, quiet moment before she realized that he was waiting for her to make the next move.
Jyn nodded gently and took a breath before she scooted back to rest against her pillows, pulling the covers up over her lap, her turn to wait for him to join her.
He rolled to his (…ha) side of the bed. Didn't try to get under the covers with her. But turned to face her, and, barely breathing, put his arm out along the pillowline. Where, with very little travel, she could choose to put it under her body or neck; to move into his embrace.
Jyn carefully considered her options. Cassian had asked if they could rest, but it was pretty obvious that neither had gotten much of it the one night they had spent apart. So it wasn't going to help matters much if there was still this distance between them, even if it was self-imposed.
...
Besides that, every inch of her craved the contact they had been missing. So, another breath, and wide uncertain eyes and she slid forward a little, and then a little more, and a little more after that as she took steps toward shortening that distance.
He lay still and silent, letting her be the one to choose. As with the rest of all this: he didn't know if that was him respecting her or burdening her; being penitent or abdicating his fair share.
His ceiling-side arm had lain, still, patient if awkward, over his own side. As she moved ever closer to his mattress-side arm, the ceiling-side moved; and his ceiling-facing hand, so lightly, tentative, found and traced a nonsense glyph on her wrist.
Not because she didn't want or enjoy the gentle touch, but because he wasn't moving otherwise, and Jyn was suddenly unsure of whether or not he even wanted her closer to begin with.
Maybe she was taking advantage now, and despite whatever circumstances surrounded them right now, Jyn did not want that.
"... Is this alright? Do you want me closer or no?"
"Jyn." It was either her name, an outrush of breath, or something like a sob. Whatever it was, he was tired of words. Insufficient, misleading, terrible words.
His hand slipped under her, coming to rest in the small of her back. The arm attached curved around her, and so doing pulled their bodies flush together. His other arm folded over and around her, closing any last distance between them. His chest to hers so he couldn't tell whose heart that was, thudding away. His hand gently cupped her face. Before he could quite think otherwise, he'd leaned in to kiss her.
(…Her forehead. Not her mouth. He couldn't. Couldn't bear the idea of certain intimacies with her done under false pretense. He wanted them too badly—but only if they were real. If that could never happen, at least it wouldn't be eclipsed by doing them while lying. The idea, at least, could remain unstained.)
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What now? Surrender to what he wanted—what she'd made clear they both wanted—and appease them both in the moment, but make the inevitability of their situation all the worse? Solidify this state of unhappy equilibrium, no longer even enjoying the illusion of trust and closeness? Break up the marriage in character, forfeit its benefits but stop endangering the mission over it?
All he wanted to do was hold her and sleep. Really sleep, as he hadn't all night—as, it seemed, he couldn't outside her arms. Wrapped up in her and her in him, as they had only last night.
"Is my being here okay?" Not a challenge, not a dare, not passive aggressive, not even an act: simple, earnest, sad-eyed and soft-voiced wondering if any of this was salvageable—if she could ever possibly be glad to see him again.
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Logically speaking, where could they go from this point? She knew too much about him, who he was, why he was here to ever go back to the place that they had been before.
She couldn't ignore it. And there was no taking back the decision to follow, no matter how much she wished she would have just gone the opposite way altogether.
Why are you here? Why are you doing this?
Jyn hadn't had much of an appetite anyway, but now, it had disappeared completely, and she set her half-empty bowl on the table in front of her, suddenly queasy at the thought of trying to finish it.
"It's where you live, isn't it?", she asked, and it wasn't a challenge, wasn't a dar, wasn't passive-agressive, and wasn't put on in any way, shape, or form. It was tremulous and uncertain, the voice of a young woman who felt small and scared and didn't know if she had just lost everything she had ever cared about.
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The words wouldn't come.
"You ... don't have to explain - anything", she tried, even though Force knew, she wanted to know.
This was never going to work - them - and she should just admit it here and now, make as quick and easy a break as possible so that neither of them were led to ruin because they wanted each other.
This was never going to work. It was built on a foundation of lies. He needed to go before he got caught.
But the words wouldn't come.
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His looked at her hands. Tentatively reached out with his own—stopped shy of touching her. "Listen… I didn't get much sleep. I'm going to take the day off. We could…" He didn't know what. But if she did, whatever it was, he was open to it.
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So they could sleep. Or not. Or talk. Or not. Or ... just let things be strained and strange.
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The thought of lying down with her, in (their?) bed, whether to talk or sleep or…
"Ilargi behave through the night?" he asked quietly. Something innocuous, but on which they were still of one mind.
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It was a dangerous game to play, to tempt fate, but Jyn wanted to be selfish just this once. This wasn't meant to last, and Cassian could disappear at any moment, and she just wanted ...
"Yeah. Tried to help me sleep, I think. But - um ... it wasn't the same, so."
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Was he (the same question again and again and again) being sincere through the lies, or being the worst asshole manipulator in the galaxy?
All he knew was he was kneeling, looking up into her face. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, he'd taken both of her hands with both of his, and doubled forward, pressing his closed eyes to their joint fists.
As he hadn't in years, as he shouldn't as Sward, but he did anyway, he fell into Caridan. "Lo siento. Lo siento. I'm so sorry."
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He'd been lying for his whole life.
She took a long, shaky breath, but made no move away. Maybe it was a mistake on her part, but in the moment, Jyn couldn't find it within herself enough to care.
"Oh, no, no, you don't have to - "
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One heartbeat passed. Another, then another -
"Yes", she hoarsely whispered. "We can - we do that."
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But she accepted the offered hand and curled her trembling fingers around his, a moment's hesitation in order to find her strength before she stood, too.
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His fingers curled around hers, back. Their pressure light, tentative, but enough to forestall letting go. He shifted the angle of their clasped hands, matching her as she stood, to keep them joined as he led the way into the bedroom.
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She followed along easily, no doubt or second-guessing every step they took, Argi following along as though he didn't want to be left alone.
Regretfully, Jyn let go once they entered the bedroom, if only so she could sit at the edge of the bed and try to calm her nerves, her erratic heartbeats.
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At last, without trying to touch her, he sat silently at her side.
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"Don't you want to change?", she murmured. "You should be comfortable."
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He looked down, yet again, at their hands; his fingers crooking, tips returning the contact of hers. Their hands seemed to be communicating, expressing themselves, better than the rest of them.
He removed his hand only enough to unfasten and pull off his jacket. He loosened the collar of his shirt but didn't open it further. He bent double to remove his shoes. He sat up straight again, eyes glancing to her face, waiting for the next cue.
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She sat still, watching and waiting. He didn't say anything once he removed some items of clothing and loosened others, and it took a long, quiet moment before she realized that he was waiting for her to make the next move.
Jyn nodded gently and took a breath before she scooted back to rest against her pillows, pulling the covers up over her lap, her turn to wait for him to join her.
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...
Besides that, every inch of her craved the contact they had been missing. So, another breath, and wide uncertain eyes and she slid forward a little, and then a little more, and a little more after that as she took steps toward shortening that distance.
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His ceiling-side arm had lain, still, patient if awkward, over his own side. As she moved ever closer to his mattress-side arm, the ceiling-side moved; and his ceiling-facing hand, so lightly, tentative, found and traced a nonsense glyph on her wrist.
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Not because she didn't want or enjoy the gentle touch, but because he wasn't moving otherwise, and Jyn was suddenly unsure of whether or not he even wanted her closer to begin with.
Maybe she was taking advantage now, and despite whatever circumstances surrounded them right now, Jyn did not want that.
"... Is this alright? Do you want me closer or no?"
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His hand slipped under her, coming to rest in the small of her back. The arm attached curved around her, and so doing pulled their bodies flush together. His other arm folded over and around her, closing any last distance between them. His chest to hers so he couldn't tell whose heart that was, thudding away. His hand gently cupped her face. Before he could quite think otherwise, he'd leaned in to kiss her.
(…Her forehead. Not her mouth. He couldn't. Couldn't bear the idea of certain intimacies with her done under false pretense. He wanted them too badly—but only if they were real. If that could never happen, at least it wouldn't be eclipsed by doing them while lying. The idea, at least, could remain unstained.)
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(as plotted!)
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EEE! Excited!
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c/w and PM convo
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LMK if I should break this into multiple tags!! Wanna leave room for Jyn to react, but overeager…
Haha, no worries, it's more than fine :0D
Yay! Thank you; you indulge me so nicely >^•^<
And happily so!
/feels and sends much love ^_^ ^_^ ^_^
<3 <3 <3
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