[ It almost feels like she's broken contact, or about to break contact. Bellamy's quiet, flexing his wrist under the sodden mass of his new-found friend, attention receding and then zeroing back in when she questions him. ]
(My hands.)
[ The admission stirs up violence: choking Lovejoy in the blue light of the harvest room, lashing out wildly at Roan as Clarke screams, pain and blood washing across the memories. ]
no subject
( My hands. )
[ The admission stirs up violence: choking Lovejoy in the blue light of the harvest room, lashing out wildly at Roan as Clarke screams, pain and blood washing across the memories. ]
( Most of the time with a gun, if I can. )