She takes his hand immediately, holding it like it's a life raft, the only thing keeping her afloat. She may be weak from surgery and injury, but her grip remains as oddly strong as ever. He looks like a dreamy Impressionist painting through her tears, soft and watery, and she tries her best to focus on what he is saying even while she struggled to breathe without hyperventilating.

Which is what he wants too, for her to slow down.

He'd said something, she needs to focus on it. What had he said, what had he promised. Later, he'd promised later, if she breathed properly now. Focus, Jyn. Calm down. She knows she is having a panic attack, can feel the pressure in her chest, the way she feels overheated and nauseated. She knows but knowing never really makes it easier. Telling herself to breathe never really makes it easier either.

But she tries, breathing in and out slowly until it's too slow and makes her choke on the lack of air before she tries again. In and out, in and out, in and out. She can tell when she is breathing well because some of the tension fades from Cassian's shoulders. Her grip loosens slightly but she doesn't let go.

"'m okay. Sorry." She is full of apologies today, far too late.