Yeah, things change, like fucking legwarmers and chicks in ugly freakyass shoulderpads being thankfully gone, but it shouldn’t be who owns your home. It shouldn’t be “Let’s go to this dictator”.

[Shit, he hit something here, a well bigger and deeper than he thought; she hadn’t acted like this before. If he was honest, when he normally treaded into making a woman feel something they weren’t ready for, he was far more accustomed to them punching him and putting a gun against his head, not…not this. He watched her fingers and chewed his lip, before looking around.

Shit. Shit.

Walking up to her, he slid a careful, hesitant hand onto her shoulder, purely an attempt to comfort and nothing more.]

Look, I’m with you on that; I want to go home more than anything. [A lot of people need me to--] But…maybe it’s a numbers game. Maybe—

[In the end, they just have to have faith.

Ain’t that a bitch.]

--look, for now until we figure this shit out? We…don’t.

[Fuck, he didn’t mean for his voice to shake on that. ] You know, just for right now.