It was deeply, painfully unfair, having him look at her like that while so close in the dim firelight, listening as she told him some of her most closely-held truths. Jyn almost felt like she couldn't breathe, watching him. That look seemed to say almost as much as the words themselves did, though she took those in, too, oddly touched by the sentiment. Simply the fact that he understood meant more than she would ever be able to tell him.

There were, of course, other ways of trying to convey as much, ones that she once wouldn't have thought twice about with him. Near as he was, it would have been too easy to close the rest of the distance between them. She knew, though, that it would be a mistake, too liable to ruin whatever tenuous understanding they'd settled into here. She wasn't sure she could bear that.

So, instead, she would have to try to find words, and not flippant ones about how she thought he'd already recruited her. She considered for a moment, quiet and thoughtful, then finally found a way to phrase it in another truth.

"Fact," she murmured. "If we'd lived, I would have stayed."