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open ✧ moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars
Where: Around town
When: May 9-14
What: Getting her bearings, exploring, etc etc.
Warnings: Language?
[ Open ]
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✧ ꜰʀᴇɴᴄʜ's ɢʀᴏᴄᴇʀʏ
There is so much food.
There is, in Jyn's opinion, too much food. Well, not the quantity, she supposes for a full town there is just enough (still maybe too much), but the sheer multitude of the selections is mind-boggling. Why are there no less than fifteen different types of cereals? There are at least five types of Cheerios alone. How is anyone supposed to decide on which cereal they want. And then they have to decide which percentage of milk they want? What is the other 98% of 2% milk!! She had thought cereal would be easy. She thought wrong.
It's not like she's picky, Jyn has subsisted off protein cubes for six months, she'll eat literally anything so whatever she chose would be perfectly acceptable but the number of choices suddenly available to her has made her indecisive. It's going to be an equally sad story when she tries to decide on a juice to buy.
Softly, "What the fuck."
✧ ɢᴏ ᴀsᴋ ᴀʟɪᴄᴇ
Look, it's not that she's stalking Cassian, it's just that, you know, she has one friend and he's it so she's kind of stalking him. In a friendly, platonic way. Nothing to see here. It doesn't hurt, anyway, that he works at a tea shop and one of Jyn's indulgent comforts happens to be tea. (She's not even actually British.) It also helps that Cassian won't let her pay for it so she doesn't feel like it's so indulgent.
Which finds Jyn curled up at a table nursing her fifth cup of something amber colored and sweet and fiddling with some of the dried bits of violet petals she plucked free of the loose leaves before she let it steep. She's slowly making her way through a paperback copy of the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe but she's unused to anything not on a datapad so sometimes she sets it on the table and it closes itself, as books do, or tips right off the edge and Jyn swears in what is probably not an Earth language.
"I'm starting to see why people burn these." Jyn, no.
✧ ʜᴜʀᴛ's ᴅᴏɴᴜᴛs
And then there is the real indulgence. Donuts. Fluffy, fried dough coated in sugar and cinnamon and glaze and stuffed with jelly or lemon and probably not all at once. Jyn doesn't take her ridiculously large order to someone to share or eat inside the shop itself.
Oh no. Jyn takes her box outside and sits on the curb and eats them right there because that is the type of person she is. Once the hunger is abated, however, she will eat the rest of them while she is walking. The donuts never seem to make it to their intended destination before Jyn is disposing of the empty box in a rubbish bin and wiping powered sugar off on her pants.
Manners, what are those? She will probably not share, unless it is a child or a dog. She'll share with dogs.
no subject
"It's late," she says instead, as if she's just realized that, even after dragging Poe out in the middle of the night. Even after walking over here in the middle of the night. She's just realizing it's late as hell.
"Do you mind if I sleep?"
no subject
"No, I don't mind. Do you want to sleep in here?"
He can sleep on the floor. Or they could curl up on the couch. She could take the guest room, instead (he would still end up on the floor of that room, though.) "Do you want tea?"
Or does she just want him to shush so she can get on with being comfortable and probably not freezing her toes off?
no subject
Jyn can remember the last time she's had affection that soft and sweet. Her father's fingers brushing her temple as he whispered Stardust. Chirrut squeezing her fingers one last time before they departed the ship. Bodhi's wide, skittish eyes softening as she clutched her fingers at his arm and his hand brushed against hers. Baze's low voice rumbling Little Sister and his large hand steady on her shoulder. Cassian's hand between her shoulder blades as death thundered toward them.
Her chest tightens at the memories now painful enough to feel like a physical injury, but she's still safe and alive in Cassian's arms so it doesn't overwhelm her, as much as it threatens to do. They had died, their friends had died. That hurts more than her own death could ever.
"Here, yeah." As much as she is reluctant to move, she does start toward his bed. Taking him with her.
no subject
A complete lack of coherent thought.
Pulling away, stopping, pausing? Not options. Any and all of the aforementioned would signal a reluctance on Cassian's part that might cause Jyn to withdraw and would be generally untrue.
"Do you want to be near the wall?" Or would she rather pin him in?
No complaints, either way.
no subject
But Cassian will be there.
Finally, she releases him, but only to clamber into his bed, throwing the rest of the blankets back to burrow herself between them with her back pressed against the wall. The bed still seems warm but she thinks she might be imagining that. Maybe she is just very, very cold. After a long few seconds she unbarnacles herself from the wall, scooting forward but staying on her chosen side. She's small, she sleeps small, she doesn't know Cassian's preference to sprawl or not.
no subject
Probably.
Either way, he's going to go ahead and follow through with getting back to bed, and trying to relax enough to let Jyn sleep.
He doesn't sprawl but he does take the chance not to curl into himself too tightly; his back still protests that sort of behavior, after all, so Cassian tucks his arms up near his head and lies on his side, facing Jyn, before he remembers the blaster. Unfortunately that means sighing, rolling over, getting up and getting said blaster from the dresser, shutting the window and then bringing the weapon back to bed. Cassian shoves it beneath his pillow rather unceremoniously after double-checking the safety.
"Sorry," he murmurs as he climbs back under the covers. He doesn't have much practice in sharing a bed with someone - he suspects wrapping blankets and sweaters around Kay and getting as comfortable as possible in non-traditional sleeping spaces counts, but very little.
no subject
"Where'd you get the blaster?" she asks quietly, as if being in bed means the need for quiet suddenly exists. She didn't have a blaster when she woke up and she doesn't remember if they said anything about it at the Sheriff's station, so thus the question.
Shifting a little, she draws the blankets tighter around her shoulders, burying her head against the pillow. Everything here is so... soft. Not just the mattress and the blankets and the pillows, which are decadent compared to... anything. But the town itself, the townspeople are irritatingly kind, the whole place isn't wrought with war or strife. It's odd.
Cassian's presence makes her feel solid amidst all the wrongness.
no subject
He watches her get comfortable and brings his own hands to settle near his chest, in the space between them. He wants to reach out and curl his arms around her but he doesn't want to make it weird. That could make it weird, right?
Instead his fingers twist into the edge of the blanket he pulls up toward his ears.
no subject
But maybe sleep will help.
Eyes still closed, she stretches her hand across the space between them, brushing across his knuckles until their fingers wind together as naturally as if they'd been doing it for thousands of years. She needs the anchor, the reminder that he's there, the same anchor she'd had on Scarif. She needs Cassian, that's all there is to it.
"See you in the morning, Cassian."
no subject
And run with it, as long as she'll let him.
"Rest well, Jyn. Dulce sueños."