Jyn wakes to the sound of rain, the fragrance of cloud tea, and Cassian's promise of chilaquiles if she gets up.

"There's no war to fight today," she mumbles, and suffers the cold long enough to pull him into her cocoon of quilts, "chilaquiles later."

This is what peace feels like, Jyn thinks, as she curls around Cassian and drifts back to sleep to sound of his laughter and his heartbeat.