Brown eyes fixed on green eyes, Cassian nodded with all the weight of agreement. Not letting go of her hand, he reached down with the other and picked up his own tunic, the one he'd lived in for much longer than their joint mission, stained with his blood and Krennic's blaster. He didn't tear this one apart. Hefting it once, he threw it in one piece, still folded, onto the flames. As an afterthought, he dumped some of the remaining oil after it.
"Fact," he said. "…Is it okay to talk about your father?"
no subject
"Fact," he said. "…Is it okay to talk about your father?"