Cassian Andor has never been sure of when did he actually fall in love with Jyn Erso. It was somewhere in between Eadu and returning from Scarif, but if one asked him to pinpoint a certain moment when he just knew what he felt for her, he would probably just answer vaguely — that it is complicated, that they hardly knew each other and that the recklessness of their actions and the importance of their mission hadn't allowed him to think about it seriously until he was back in Yavin IV — more specifically, back in the hospital ward, his leg plastered and his head a mess after everything they had just been through.
In spite of this, he feels like he would be able to tell when did he first begin to genuinely care for the green-eyed girl who has now become something like his partner — because girlfriend's too weak a word to describe their relationship, and in the midst of the rebellion everything feels too chaotic to try to become something else.
"You know," he says quietly, pulling up the sheets to his chest as they both lie together in bed. "There was something you did, back in Jedha. Something that really made me reconsider everything I'd thought about you up until then."
"Really?" Jyn asks, her voice a whisper. It's been a long day at the intelligence office, and she's been doing a lot of extra work lately — probably to get her head off more serious matters.
"Mhm." His hand shifts down to caress the small of her back as he speaks. "You know, when the Imperial tank exploded — there was this little girl who couldn't find her mother, and you just leaped up from your hiding spot and fetched her. You could have died, and yet you didn't think twice."
Jyn seems to mull it over for a few seconds, but finally nods quietly. "Yes, I remember. But it's not like that made me a hero — you would have saved her, too. Bodhi would have saved her, if he had been with us. Baze would have blastered his way through the street and saved her if he had been there, too."
"But the thing is, Jyn — you didn't have to. You pretended to be this uninterested woman who wouldn't give a damn about the Rebellion or the Empire or anything at all but yourself — and yet you did save her, and it was then when I realised how much everything matters to you."
"Well, I know what it's like to be young and alone," she counters quietly. "I guess that's why I helped her."
Cassian makes a sad face and shrugs quietly. "Trust me, I know what that's like, too."
"I know. Sorry."
"Don't be." He presses a kiss to her forehead and holds her just a little closer — enough to breathe in the scent of her hair, which is now the scent of home and of quiet nights feeling the most important person in his life by his side. "We should get some sleep now."
"All right. Goodnight, Cass."
"Goodnight, J."
He places his arm around her shoulder and nuzzles against her hair, relishing on the warmth of her body against his. As he tenses down from everything he's been through today and silently reflects on what he has just said, he hears a whisper against the crook of his neck.
"I think I began to see you differently right after Eadu."
There are a lot of things that Cassian could say right now, but he chooses to smile against the top of her head and murmur, in a rather nostalgic way. "I know."
...
Cassian doesn't know when did they decide they wanted to sleep together, either. She had stayed with him at the hospital ward when he couldn't move, and she had come to his room a couple of nights before they silently agreed that she could just move in — the room was small and not quite comfortable, but it worked for them. It had been slightly awkward at first — he didn't want to push her boundaries, but it somehow felt right to pull her close and even kiss less intimate parts of her face, like her forehead, her temples, and occasionally her cheeks.
He does know, however, when did she first return all those embraces, all those kisses. Because they're both broken, and they can't always hide it, and there's still some nights in which Cassian still feels as lost as he was at age six and right after his family was killed.
"Do you remember," he whispers quietly, propping himself up on the bed. "That one time when I came back from a meeting, late at night, hoping that you'd already be asleep?"
"I think so," Jyn agrees. She's sitting in front of him, her legs crossed and her eyes carefully on his. "I — yes, I'd been waiting for you for a while, and I couldn't sleep. You were pretty... well, you didn't seem to be okay at all."
"Yeah, I was wrecked, I'd say." He nods quietly, his thoughts quickly flashing to what the Council had debated that evening — the future of his home planet, now an arid extension of land where there was little to no life other than wild animals and a couple of stranded individuals who tried to cling to a past that would never come back. "I felt terrible, and I didn't want to disturb you, because well — you've had your share of terrible stuff, and I felt like I would only make things worse. And yet..."
And yet she had taken his hand, just like she had back in Scarif, and she had slowly covered both of them with their blankets and wrapped her arms around his waist, quietly whispering words that had somehow managed to help her through the years that she had spent on her own, and that she now wished to share with the man who was slowly becoming his favourite person in the galaxy. She had pressed kisses to the very same places he would kiss whenever she was upset — first his forehead, then his temples, then his cheeks. But she also brushed her lips against what still was an unexplored surface to her — his own lips, rough and dry, which tasted of salt and spice beer.
"And yet I kissed you, and you somehow got better." There is a hint of a smile on her face now, and Cassian feels like he could stare at it forever. "We both somehow got better, I guess."
"We did. We really did," he lets out a sigh and sits up on the bed, so that he's facing her directly, and before he realises it, his calloused hands are holding hers, tracing soft patterns on her knuckles with his thumbs. "Or at least we're getting there, which is also a great thing."
And so he kisses her hands, her wrists, her shoulders — he could spend the rest of his days exploring her body with his lips if she asked him to.
...
He can't quite remember when did he start referring to her as something more serious than a colleague or friend — although most of their friends and acquaintances knew that the connection between them was much deeper than a simple friendship, neither of them had ever thought of the other as a partner, at least in a conventional way. They were simply the person the other valued the most, the face they wanted and needed to see every day before going to sleep, and the voice that could lull them out of their darkest thoughts no matter how hard the situation was.
He does, however, remember the first time he told her that he loved her.
"Do you remember when we went on our first date?" He questions as he unbuttons his shirt, after a long day at the intelligence office. "You know, that one time we were given a day off and had lunch in the forest, by the lake."
"I do remember," she nods, a funny expression on her lips. "But I thought we didn't do dates, Cass."
"Well, that was most definitely a date, J," he quips. "And I know you enjoyed it in spite of all its date-ness."
Because, of course, there had been a lot of date-like things involved that day. He had sprinted up to the kitchens first thing in the morning and somehow persuaded the chief cook to make them a couple of sandwiches and a beebleberry and banana milkshake. He then went back to their room and asked Jyn if she would like to join him for a walk, and that was when the date, as he had put it earlier, had begun.
"We really must have looked like the cheesiest couple in the base," she reckons. "We left holding hands and it was well past curfew when we came back."
"Ah, but that afternoon was so very worth it," he nods, and his smile broadens when he realises Jyn is studying his now bare chest from their bed. "The food was all right, but the best thing was what came afterwards." His eyebrows rise in a mischievous expression, and he can't help but chuckle at the sight of Jyn's cheeks going visibly redder.
Because there had been something after lunch, once they were full and barefoot. He had slowly made his way to the lake, Jyn following him closely, and for a few seconds he had simply let the cold water brush against his toes, thinking about how his life had changed so much over the past few months. However, he was quickly distracted from his thoughts when he felt water splashing against upper parts of his body — first his knees, then his hips, then his chest and his face. He turned his head to find a giggling Jyn splashing water at him, her feet bare and a childish smile on her face as she chanted to a song that her parents must have taught her at a very young age. His expression broke into a grin and, before either of them knew exactly what was going on, he grabbed her by the waist and plunged their bodies into the lake.
"I could have killed you right then," Jyn giggles quietly. "It was freezing down there."
"But you didn't," he counters, his eyebrows rising several times. "Come on, I know you had fun. I could tell."
"Hm... well, I did. Kind of."
Because they did have fun, and they both knew it. Jyn had splashed more water at him, and Cassian had chuckled under his breath and pulled faces at her when she tried to sink his head underwater. It was only after a few minutes of banter and playing around when he had pulled closer to her, a broad smile on his face, and cupped her face with his hands before whispering that he loved her.
"You did say you loved me first, Cassian Andor," she smirks as his thumbs rub against her cheeks.
"I did," he reckons, a lopsided smile on his face. "I guess it just felt right to say so." He presses a long kiss to her lips — quiet, hungry, intense. "As it does now."
"It does, yes," she breathes, pulling him closer; before kissing him again, she whispers against his lips, "I love you, Cassian."
"And I love you too, Jyn."
And so they become a tangle of kisses, teeth clattering against each other, legs intertwining and loving words whispered to each other under the intimacy of their covers and the night that lies ahead of them.
...
However, Cassian does know when he first feels the certainty that he wouldn't want to live his life if Jyn wasn't by his side. It is right after making love to her, as the Empire crumbles down to its last pieces and the Rebellion holds its breath, waiting for the fight they've been engaged in for the last twenty years to end.
"Shouldn't we be there?" Jyn wonders quietly, her head resting on the crook of his shoulder as Cassian rubs his thumb against her waist. "It's our victory, too."
"I know. I just don't feel like seeing everyone right now, I guess. I just want to be home." He pauses, glancing at her sleepy face carefully before adding, "In fact, I wouldn't mind being home forever."
He grins at the sight of her bright green eyes glistening in the soft darkness of their room, a smile on her face as she leans closer to him.
"Well then," she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Welcome home, captain Andor."
And, after that, there's nothing else they need — no ring, no papers, no public displays of what they feel. Because they're home to each other, and soon they will be home to bright-eyed, tanned children. And someday, in the immensity of their galaxy, they will look back and realise that all it took them to find where they belonged was the promises they uttered to each other every night before they fell asleep.
