Cassian has not had a real friend is as many years as he's been a Victor, no matter how many times they shove him off and tell him to make nice. It's hard to make a friend, when that person is going to be whisked away too soon, when you're barely allowed to interact with the people who would understand you outside those in your own District. And if those numbers are small? Tough shit.

Sabina gives one last tug on Cassian's jacket. "A few more minutes," she says, which isn't very helpful, because in all these years of being with Sabina, 'a few more minutes' has become something of a catchphrase, a sign she either doesn't know or isn't going to answer. Her hair changes every time he sees her, different colors and lengths, like her head exists only in experimentation. It's blue today.

He looks back over at Jyn. He supposes they match, in a distant way. Really he was just hoping to make her head a little more comfortable instead of the razor tight ponytail.

"I have figured out Sabina's general preferences for my style," he says after a few long, quiet moments. His tone is back to what it was before, no airy charm. "It is easier to give comfortable suggestions if they lean into what is already being considered."