#cassianandorpromptathon

Bodhi looked somewhat fascinated but he didn’t say a word. Even Baze seemed somewhat impressed by the display of both agility and control Cassian had of his knife but he didn’t comment either. Each movement was sharp, each pass on the peel was efficient and all his pieces, either cubes or slices were all perfectly measured to optimize the cooking homogeneity.

He remembered his sister Mirilia, when she tried to teach him how to reproduce the meal they had at home. It was a very rare occurrence, she was always busy elsewhere and barely made time for anything more than kissing him goodnight, but a few times, when he had been really good, when he had done something really brave, or incredibly reckless for a child thrown in a resistance cell, she indulged him with a memory of their home.

“Don’t be a Rhalouf, Sian, and hold your knife properly.”

She was always very careful to cut each pieces evenly whereas his were sloppy. It was still good when she mixed them all together, because she had spent enough time with their grandfather to learn how to add the right spices and control the fire but there were always parts overcooked while other still crunched. Cassian hadn’t like it then and didn’t like now either.

Mirilia never said anything, but he remembered her laughing eyes each time he had to swallow one of his pieces. The lesson had been short but very useful. In retrospect, he realized her sister mostly taught him how to grip a blade to make precise damage more than how to cook, but it was still nice of her to make time for him.

He stirred a little longer the vegetables, put the roots in the boiling water and went to grill the meat. When everything was ready, he put a little of each preparation into four plates before bringing them on the table.

“Thank you, Captain. You’re spoiling us,” said Chirrut with a smile and even Baze mumbled a compliment just as Bodhi let a low whistle of admiration.

Cassian nodded and digged in his food to avoid any more comment and the others seemed to get it. They spoke of mundane things between mouthfuls of meat and vegetables and the meal was quickly done because clearly, they enjoyed it.

“Did you keep a plate for Jyn?” Bodhi asked suddenly and he had that look on his face that said he thought he made a mistake.

Cassian huffed with a smile. “Of course I did. Do you really think I have death wishes?”

There was a weird pause and then Bodhi answered, “No, no, of course not. I just… I’m just glad Jyn can have some when she’s back. It was really good. Thank you, Captain.”

He promptly rose with his empty plate, washed it quickly and disappeared in his quarters with a polite yet embarrassed wave. Baze nearly followed suite but Chirrut called, “Do you want a cup of tea, Captain, before retiring for the night?”

“I’ll wait for Jyn,” Cassian reminded him.

“All the more for having a cup.”

Chirrut walked to his quarters while Baze boiled water. By the time the tea finished brewing, Jyn and Kay came back from their investigation and Cassian felt the tension under his ribs lessen.

“You’re punctual,” noted Chirrut as he poured her a cup. “It should be just like you like it.”

He put the cup on the table and filled another for Cassian while he dressed a plate for Jyn then the two Guardians left with the teapot. Kay was rambling about some problem they had encountered during their mission but Cassian focused only on Jyn. She wasn’t injured and only shrugged when he asked silently for her explanation. 

“Could you send your report to command, Kay? I’m really hungry and that food smells amazing.”

The droid didn’t sniff but it was close but neither Jyn nor Cassian paid him any attention. Jyn was digging in her food with enthusiasm while Cassian pretended to sip his too hot tea. He barely managed to swallow a few drops before Jyn cleaned up her plate and when she reached for her cup, she asked, “So, what made you so upset?”

She blew on her tea and swayed lightly the cup between her hands but her eyes were on him.

Cassian wanted to deny but he had to admit, he was tensed. Anxious probably. But before he admitted it to her, he countered, “What make you think I was upset?”

She smiled over the rim of her cup and took a careful sip. She grimaced and stuck her burnt tongue at him.

“Chirrut made his chamomile blend, so he must have sensed it too.”

Her smirk told him there was more so he waited and after a few minutes of silence, she added, “You cut everything in tiny bites. You only do that when you’re stressed.”

“I… what?”

“You never noticed?”

Cassian blinked at her and she chuckled. Grabbing his hand, she began to play with his fingers in a very distracting way.

“You’re always meticulous when you’re cooking, but when you’re upset, or stressed, you spend extra time cutting everything in very small pieces. I think it’s cute.”

“I just don’t like it when the pieces are uneven. It mess up the texture and…”

Her smile was growing as she was clearly trying to not laugh. Cassian sighed.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.”

“I assure you I am. But it’s nice. I like it.”

He gave her a dubious look so she kissed his fingers.

“I like your food and I like you worry about me.”

“Well, yeah. I suppose it’s better I chopped down vegetables and roots rather than pacing around like a mad man.”

She hummed in answer, swallowed her still too hot tea and got up to wash both her plate and cup. Then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

“I just regret not seeing you. You’re sexy with a knife.”

“Maybe next time, don’t take so long,” he chidded her gently. She kissed him again and whispered, “But I like coming home finding you cooked for me.”

“But I can cook for you in front of you. So you can watch my dazzling blade skills.”

“Carving your way to my heart?”

Cassian shrugged and got up but didn’t let her release him, her arms just went around his torso rather than his shoulders.

“Well, we both know you’re more into knife than into food, right?”

She laughed and with a teasing smile, said, “For you, I can do both.”