"You asked what I might've called you had we known each other growing up. But .. duly noted; I will reserve my very bad attempt at coming up with a funny nickname for you for when you've done something reprehensible," she teases, groaning internally at how quickly she folds under the weight of his purposefully pathetic gaze. It's unfair, that he has such a foolproof trick in his arsenal. She knows that no attempt on her part to do the same would have a similar effect - and she puffs out a little breath of air at the injustice of it all.

The trill of his tongue at the peak of his middle name makes something in her stomach flutter. She wonders, then, about the name Jeron - it's clear linkage to his father, the little she knows of the man through the stories Cassian's shared. She wonders, listens for the inflection in his voice of anger, or hatred, or love, or sadness. She wonders, for a brief moment, what her own voice sounds like when she mentions Galen - if there's a flicker in her eyes to betray the neutrality she so often clings to at the mention of him.

"Jeron." Her attempt falls flat, right onto its face. There's no delicacy, no rolling r's, no throaty catch to start it. She tries again, with a moderate amount of success. "Jeh-ron." The r's still undulate the way she wants, but it's closer. "Maybe there's a nickname to be found between your first and middle name. And .. no, no middle name for Jyn Erso," she replies, "Though I often wonder why. Or what my parents might've chosen if they'd given me one. I think it'd have to be two syllables, to sound right with my last name."