"Thank you," Ren said, and Cilian's face struck with disbelief.
Cilian's hand, which had been reaching for his tea, stopped mid-air.
He turned his head slowly, his golden-brown eyes narrowing as they searched Ren's face. For a brief second, the mask of the smug, all-knowing fox slipped, replaced by genuine shock.
Ren kept his gaze fixed on the plate of fruit. He made sure his shoulders remained tense, and his voice sounded like it was being dragged through gravel. He couldn't make it too easy, or Cilian would smell the lie instantly.
"Don't get the wrong idea," Ren repeated, his voice small and tight. "I'm only giving thanks because it's due. You... you got us out of that island. You brought the helicopter."
Cilian leaned back in his chair, a slow, thoughtful smile spreading across his lips. The disbelief was gone, replaced by a deep, purring satisfaction. He loved this. He loved the idea that he was finally breaking the 'Hard Heart' Ren had obsessed over for so long.
