[There wasn't any masking the surprise that flickered over his eyes, the way they widened, the way they longed for something like that to be true. Home. Back where they fucking belonged, and--

No way. No fucking way. He would have heard about it if it was.] It's pretty easy to promise shit. Like, seriously, I could promise not to totally imagine you naked later, but that doesn't mean I have the capability to keep it.

[What? It had been a good five minutes since he had said something of that caliber. It was well overdue.

But either way, the sentiment was there: how did any of them know if the Ceta could get them back? How could they even start promising shit when no one knew how they got here in the first place? It was stupid. It was-- it was fucking bullshit! A lie.

He could feel the glare fixing itself into place, because those were people she was talking about. Friends. Ones he was fighting with and for. ] Seriously? It's not about fucking offers; this isn't the worst game show ever made where we get to pick what's behind Door Number One and it's a consolation prize of more goddamn war. They're just trying to stay the fuck alive and have their freedom.

Maybe if your BFFs could take a hint and leave these guys alone, there wouldn't even need to be a war to start with.