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If there’s one thing that Jyn’s learned over the years, one thing that’s remained constant, it’s that there’s something wrong with her.
She doesn’t know what it is and doubts that she ever will. It’s something that makes her unloveable and makes people want to leave her no matter how hard she tries to get them to stay. It’s happened so many times before that it can’t be coincidental; even when someone promises to stick around, she doesn’t believe them. She knows they won’t, that they’ll leave despite what they say because there’s something about her that isn’t right.
But Cassian makes her forget.
It’s hard to remember that she’s broken when she’s with him, when he makes her feel so loved. The reminder will slip through the cracks sometimes, like late at night or when she’s alone, but then Cassian will press a kiss to the top of her head or hold her closer, and she’ll stop thinking about it again. He has an effect on her that no one else has ever seemed to have, and that makes her selfish. She wants what she can’t have, could never have.
“I love you.”
If Jyn could turn back time, she would go back to that moment and keep her mouth shut. It’s not that there isn’t any truth in her statement –– stars, she loves Cassian so much –– but she’d forgotten herself. Forgotten for a few precious seconds that there’s something wrong with her and let herself pretend that she could have this one thing –– that she could love Cassian and be loved in return.
But why would he? Why would he love her back? She’s unloveable.
There had been nothing on Cassian’s face when she’d said, nothing that made her think he felt the same. He’d fallen back behind his spy mask, looking at her for too long without saying anything. She had to get away, had to leave, to run like the coward she is.
So that’s what she’d done. Ran away. Looking back, she can’t tell if Cassian had actually been calling out for her to wait, or if her mind has fabricated that entirely.
Now, she’s curled up in her bed, legs drawn up to her stomach and blankets pulled up over her head. Alone in the darkness, it’s easy to be weak and vulnerable. Hopeless.
He could never love her back.
It’s been a long time since she’s slept in her own room; she spends most of her time these days in Cassian’s, with him. It helps both of them get the rest they so desperately need but cannot get on their own; nightmares plague both of them, but when together, it’s so much easier.
But Jyn doesn’t think she’ll be getting any sleep tonight, doesn’t even think she’ll try. Instead, she stares forward, eyes blank and absent.
Force, she’s so stupid.
She’s so caught up in her own head that she doesn’t notice the banging on the door, doesn’t notice that anything is amiss until the lock flashes green and light floods her room.
But Jyn doesn’t move. She’s just so tired.
The door closes, plunging the room back into darkness, but not for long. Whoever is there flicks on the lights, then rushes to her side, kneeling in front of her.
Cassian.
“Jyn,” he says softly, raising a hand as if he wants to brush back her hair but hesitantly as if he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch her anymore. “Jyn, are you all right?”
No. Clearly. She shifts, flipping onto her other side so she doesn’t have to face him. “I’m fine.”
“Jyn…”
“Go away, Cassian.”
Instead of leaving, however, he sits on the edge of her bed; she can feel the mattress dip underneath his weight. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You will,” she mutters, pulling the blanket higher over her face.
There’s silence. She wishes he would leave, even though she doesn’t want him to.
He sighs, shifting slightly. “I’m sorry. For not responding. You surprised me, I…I didn’t know you felt that way. About me.”
Silence. He swallows, then adds, “I didn’t know that you feel the same way I do. I love you.”
Her shoulders tense, muscles rigid. No, that can’t be right. He’s lying –– he has to be. Her voice is hoarse when she finally speaks. “No, you don’t.”
“I don’t understand,” he says, clearly confused. She imagines the way his eyebrows crease together, the tight pull of his mouth. “Jyn, I do . I’m sorry about earlier, I’d just –– ”
“No,” she repeats, voice shaking. There are tears in her eyes, close to spilling over, down her face, and onto her pillow. “No, I don’t believe you.”
Cassian places his hand on her back, his warmth cutting through the blanket wrapped around her. “I love you,” he tells her gently. “I love you.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It’s not. It’s what I feel.”
“No one can love me. I…I’m unloveable. There’s something wrong with me, I don’t know what it is, but I’m broken, I can’t –– you can’t love me, no one can ever love me –– “
He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, then wraps himself around her, knees slotting behind her thighs and arms wrapping around her waist. There’s something wet on the back of her neck, dripping down from Cassian’s nose onto her skin. “Oh, Jyn,” he soothes, searching for words that can provide her some sort of comfort. “Jyn…”
“Don’t lie to me, Cassian. Don’t you dare kriffing lie!”
“I’m not lying,” he says again. “I love you –– and I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe me.”
Jyn shakes in his arms and shivers violently as he strokes her hair and tries to calm her down. She doesn’t believe him, not now. She doesn’t think she ever will, not when this is all she knows.
(But maybe, maybe she will in the future. If anyone could convince her, it would be him.)
It takes almost a year but it happens.
“I believe you.”
Cassian looks up from his meal, startled, blinking. His mouth is full of food when he asks, “What?”
Jyn shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. He hasn’t said anything in the last two minutes that warranted her blatant display of trust in him. “You know,” she mutters, poking her fork in the air for emphasis. “The thing.”
“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that,” he replies, amusement tugging the corner of his lips upward.
If it’s possible, she blushes even more, her face almost entirely red. When she speaks next, it’s in a whisper; he has to strain to hear it over the din of the mess hall. “When you tell me you love me. I believe you.”
Oh. Oh.
It’s been months since they’d had that conversation curled up in her bed, Cassian comforting her silently as Jyn tried to hide her tears. He’s been nothing but a steady presence ever since, biding his time and being patient.
It’s finally paid off.
He reaches across the table and takes her hands in his own, thumb rubbing against the back of it gently. “Jyn, I’m –– “
He doesn’t know what to say. That he’s proud of her? That seems strange, almost. Luckily, Jyn cuts him off, words pouring out of her mouth as if she can’t stop them.
“I’ve known it for a while, I think,” she tells him. “Just didn’t know when to say it. It just kinda. . . spilled out.”
The happiness he feels right now –– it’s like his heart is about to burst out of his chest. He can’t do anything but squeeze her hands, hoping that his actions show her exactly what’s going on inside him.
“I don’t know why you do,” she admits after a beat. “Or how. But I believe you when you say it. That you love me.”
That’s a problem they can deal with later; they have weeks, months, and years together. It won’t be difficult for him to teach Jyn how to be loved, that she can be loved.
“Hey, Jyn.”
“Hmm?” she asks, blinking up from where she’s looking at their entwined hands, looking at him for the first time during their conversation.”
“I love you,” he tells her seriously, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Jyn returns it, the adoration in her eyes reflecting back at him. He imagines he looks the same, lovesick and giddy. “I know.”