Fulcrum

Jyn had every intention of keeping her promise. She wasn't typically one to balk at the thought of dishonesty, but it was different — so much was different, had been since she first met him — with Cassian. Especially under the circumstances, knowing what he'd just been through, she didn't want to leave him alone if he didn't want to be. Neither did she want to be too far from him, needing the reassurance that he was here, that this was real. She may have been a lost and clueless mess, an emotional wreck under barely-maintained composure, but one thing she could be certain of was that she wanted him here. It was infinitely better than the alternative. He deserved this chance, probably a hell of a lot more than she did.

She also didn't want him to worry — to think she'd left, something she promised herself a long time ago she would never do to him. There was, of course, a part of her that was painfully tempted anyway just to run, start over somewhere, pretend this never happened, but it wouldn't have worked. She never could stay away from him, and there wasn't anywhere to go.

So, before leaving, she scrawled a quick note, which she left on the small table beside the bunk so he couldn't miss it: If I'm not here — I'm sorry. Had to go do some things but I'll be back as soon as I can. Make yourself (and here, a small scribble suggested that she might have started to write something else, then changed her mind) comfortable. Jyn.

By the time she got back from Spike's, she didn't think she had been gone too long, but there was no way of knowing for sure until she went inside. The trouble was actually bringing herself to do so. She needed a moment to steel herself, regain her composure; the moment turned into several. Soon, she would go in, just not quite yet.