With her hand still in his, Jyn turned her gaze toward the fire again, watching the fabric blacken and fray. Again, she thought that there was something oddly comforting about it, and not just because she knew the clothing to be what he'd died in, the trousers, now scraps, Imperial. She wasn't sure what that said about her, but at least they were doing this together. At least, no matter what came next, he was here at all.

"Yeah," she answered after a moment, nodding, the motion slight but sure. With him, there was nothing she could or felt the need to keep off-limits, least of all when he was being so open with her. "It's okay."