🫶

[the idiot is probably going to have something to say, some kind of stupid defense for being an idiot that she's probably going to tune out in five seconds. still, she'll give the opportunity for it to be presented. brows knitted, jaw set in a hard line, she rolls down the window just as steps begin to approach, just as a voice begins to speak to her.

a familiar voice. the last one that had ever spoken to her, moments before the brine and burn of scarif had overtaken everything to know.

the anger, frustration, everything else on her face and in the way she holds herself, it all vanishes in an instant, as her eyes go wide and her jaw goes slack. she stills, locked, frozen, hand falling limply by her side; a breath is held on the inhale for maybe an entire minute before she remembers she's supposed to exhale it.

is it relief that she feels? guilt? dread? there are a thousand things circling in her mind at once, coalescing into a mass that she can't even begin to parse.

she should —

get out of this stupid truck. do something, anything, but just sit here. as it stands, though, she can't even move. all she manages is barely forming one word.]

Cassian?

[it's her that's the idiot now for even asking that question, when the unmistakable confirmation is in front of her.]