She doesn't mean anything by it. She's very drunk and he knows his accent stands out sometimes. She means it more earnestly, rather than the whispers in the Capitol that make him want to vomit. But he still doesn't really know how to respond to it, so he just... doesn't, finishing up the wrap instead. The back of her hand in his palm, he pins the bandage in place. He doesn't have to say anything in this case. He doesn't have to flatter Jyn because she did it to him first.
"No. Very few of us ever get married." A few fall in love, he's sure, but with the lives they are forced to lead, it's difficult. Some of them fall further prey to the Capitol's whims, some of them fall to drink. Even winning the Games doesn't guarantee a happy future. It's hard to get married when half the people in the Capitol thrive on thinking they can have you one day. How would that look, their favorite Victors married?
He doesn't think marriage is on the table for him, nor even anything close to love to push him there.
No husband or wife or both to contend with is what Jyn's soggy brain takes from that statement and she nods slowly like she is absorbing the knowledge, like there will be a test later except the test is their lives.
She seems to be thoughtfully considering this when her hand rolls in his and she uses her new grip on him to pull herself forward to kiss him.
She acts without thinking, uninjured hand lifting to steady herself against his shoulder, so it isn't a very active kiss. A press of her lips to his, a little lopsided, not quite centered, but his mouth is warm and soft and her brain completely fuzzes out like a blackout during a winter storm -- soft and muted, insulated into quiet by the snow outside but flooded with heat from the fire inside.
Despite how much she's been staring at him, despite her compliments, when she leans in to kiss him, Cassian is surprised by it. It's a little sloppy, half from her inebriation and half from his lack of participation, because... because he doesn't know what to do.
There is a very small part of him that wants to kiss her back. She's warm, and he is so starved for attention that doesn't make him feel disgusted. His hand settles at her hip, mostly to keep her upright in the way she wobbles.
Despite himself, for a few moments he does kiss her too, mostly matching up their mouths so she doesn't slobber on his cheek. In response her hand tightens at his shoulder, and Cassian stiffens. Probably not what she'd hoped.
She's drunk. It's the anniversary of her first Games and she is wasted, and there is a tiny voice in the back of his head whispering at him it's pretty. He's pretty. That's all it is. It's his face. She just wants a distraction, which is fair, it's what they all ultimately want, but he knows he can't do this with her, for too many reasons. He pulls away, even though they're still very much in each other's space.
"Jyn." He barely resists the urge to press his forehead to hers. "Not tonight."
For a moment Jyn instinctively follows him, leaning in as he draws back, before her eyes snap open and she draws her hands back like she's been burned. Did she--? He'd cleaned and bandaged her hand and they had teased and flirted? Maybe..
Fuck.
Hadder had laughed in her face when she finally realized he was flirting with her, she can feel him laughing now imagining, stupidly, that Cassian's kindness counted as flirting too. Cassian could have anyone he wanted, why on Earth would be ever want her. She rolls back on her knees and straightens up quickly, standing with a wobble that threatens to keel her over again.
He hadn't meant it to be a full on rejection, but it's clear as the hurt on her face that's how she's taken it. She stumbles to her feet and looks like she'd rather be anywhere else.
He wants her to know that it isn't her. It's the intoxication, it's the Capitol propping him up on a pedestal because he's pretty, it's the emotional toil he knows she is going through her - which he realizes he may have now made worse.
But how can he say any of that aloud, here in the Capitol of all places? His expression turns apologetic, the most he can do. He could have anyone he wanted but he doesn't want to feel wanted sometimes. And right now he can't shake that.
Cassian climbs to his own feet, hands hovering in case she loses her balance. "You are very drunk, Jyn."
Defensive, snappish. She knows he is right, she's well past tipsy, her small frame unused to alcohol. She's never liked the fogginess and heaviness of being intoxicated, the way it made her feel weak and ineffectual the one time she had gotten drunk before now. After the Games she still avoided it but now she was desperate for anything to avoid these several weeks and for a while she had felt a nice shade of warm and fuzzy.
Now she feels cold and ill, unwanted again.
"You don't have to excuse it, I understand." Message clear, universe, what is the point in trying if they're only going to leave or die. Well this time she gets to leave. She gestures expansively, swaying on her feet with the momentum, as she backs away. "Enjoy... the couch."
It's the kind of drunk that will probably greet her with a hangover in the morning, and he's familiar with it, but she snaps at him, and instead of arguing he just... stiffens.
There's no point to arguing. She's belligerent out of rejection, out of alcohol, out of the Games. Fight or fuck, two very common reactions in between all the drinking. He doesn't know how to help her when he can barely help himself half the time.
"You being drunk is not an excuse. It is a fact." She can barely stand upright!
"I'm fine," Jyn decides, as if she can rewrite body chemistry, somehow breezy and determined.
Really she is simply shoving down this rejection into a pit so she won't have to feel like she's been abandoned by someone else, the sting is the same and she refuses to feel it so she won't. She will not. She'll find someone else who will drink with her.
Someone she didn't tell about her father so he would hate her. She shouldn't be surprised, she practically planned this herself. Idiot.
She keeps backing up, putting one hand behind her so she won't trip over a wayward chair or a person.
"Have a--" She can't say have a good night, his tributes were murdered. "...Later."
She is definitely not fine in more ways than one, but he's not about to point that out. Her tone alone makes it very clear, the up and down inflections in one simple word.
Trying to reason with someone on the first anniversary of their Hunger Games victory when they want to steep in the anger is pointless. He wants to, because there is something about Jyn that makes him want to both reassure and counteract, but fortunately self restraint is one of his strong points.
Maybe next time they speak they can be clearer. Both of them more sober. Though that's never a guarantee.
"Take care, Jyn." Take the couch, he's not about to stick around much longer either.
Part of her, the fighty, angry part of her, wants to tell Cassian he doesn't get to tell her to take care if he is rejecting her but instead she puffs out a breath of air and stomps out the door.
It's childish and petulant but she is unhappy so fuck everything.
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ohnofeelstho2018-12-08 12:59 am
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"No. Very few of us ever get married." A few fall in love, he's sure, but with the lives they are forced to lead, it's difficult. Some of them fall further prey to the Capitol's whims, some of them fall to drink. Even winning the Games doesn't guarantee a happy future. It's hard to get married when half the people in the Capitol thrive on thinking they can have you one day. How would that look, their favorite Victors married?
He doesn't think marriage is on the table for him, nor even anything close to love to push him there.
no subject
She seems to be thoughtfully considering this when her hand rolls in his and she uses her new grip on him to pull herself forward to kiss him.
She acts without thinking, uninjured hand lifting to steady herself against his shoulder, so it isn't a very active kiss. A press of her lips to his, a little lopsided, not quite centered, but his mouth is warm and soft and her brain completely fuzzes out like a blackout during a winter storm -- soft and muted, insulated into quiet by the snow outside but flooded with heat from the fire inside.
no subject
There is a very small part of him that wants to kiss her back. She's warm, and he is so starved for attention that doesn't make him feel disgusted. His hand settles at her hip, mostly to keep her upright in the way she wobbles.
Despite himself, for a few moments he does kiss her too, mostly matching up their mouths so she doesn't slobber on his cheek. In response her hand tightens at his shoulder, and Cassian stiffens. Probably not what she'd hoped.
She's drunk. It's the anniversary of her first Games and she is wasted, and there is a tiny voice in the back of his head whispering at him it's pretty. He's pretty. That's all it is. It's his face. She just wants a distraction, which is fair, it's what they all ultimately want, but he knows he can't do this with her, for too many reasons. He pulls away, even though they're still very much in each other's space.
"Jyn." He barely resists the urge to press his forehead to hers. "Not tonight."
no subject
Fuck.
Hadder had laughed in her face when she finally realized he was flirting with her, she can feel him laughing now imagining, stupidly, that Cassian's kindness counted as flirting too. Cassian could have anyone he wanted, why on Earth would be ever want her. She rolls back on her knees and straightens up quickly, standing with a wobble that threatens to keel her over again.
"Right, yeah."
no subject
He wants her to know that it isn't her. It's the intoxication, it's the Capitol propping him up on a pedestal because he's pretty, it's the emotional toil he knows she is going through her - which he realizes he may have now made worse.
But how can he say any of that aloud, here in the Capitol of all places? His expression turns apologetic, the most he can do. He could have anyone he wanted but he doesn't want to feel wanted sometimes. And right now he can't shake that.
Cassian climbs to his own feet, hands hovering in case she loses her balance. "You are very drunk, Jyn."
no subject
Defensive, snappish. She knows he is right, she's well past tipsy, her small frame unused to alcohol. She's never liked the fogginess and heaviness of being intoxicated, the way it made her feel weak and ineffectual the one time she had gotten drunk before now. After the Games she still avoided it but now she was desperate for anything to avoid these several weeks and for a while she had felt a nice shade of warm and fuzzy.
Now she feels cold and ill, unwanted again.
"You don't have to excuse it, I understand." Message clear, universe, what is the point in trying if they're only going to leave or die. Well this time she gets to leave. She gestures expansively, swaying on her feet with the momentum, as she backs away. "Enjoy... the couch."
Yeah. Nailed it. He has it all to himself now.
no subject
There's no point to arguing. She's belligerent out of rejection, out of alcohol, out of the Games. Fight or fuck, two very common reactions in between all the drinking. He doesn't know how to help her when he can barely help himself half the time.
"You being drunk is not an excuse. It is a fact." She can barely stand upright!
no subject
Really she is simply shoving down this rejection into a pit so she won't have to feel like she's been abandoned by someone else, the sting is the same and she refuses to feel it so she won't. She will not. She'll find someone else who will drink with her.
Someone she didn't tell about her father so he would hate her. She shouldn't be surprised, she practically planned this herself. Idiot.
She keeps backing up, putting one hand behind her so she won't trip over a wayward chair or a person.
"Have a--" She can't say have a good night, his tributes were murdered. "...Later."
no subject
Trying to reason with someone on the first anniversary of their Hunger Games victory when they want to steep in the anger is pointless. He wants to, because there is something about Jyn that makes him want to both reassure and counteract, but fortunately self restraint is one of his strong points.
Maybe next time they speak they can be clearer. Both of them more sober. Though that's never a guarantee.
"Take care, Jyn." Take the couch, he's not about to stick around much longer either.
no subject
It's childish and petulant but she is unhappy so fuck everything.
Maybe Lando will braid her hair again.