( perhaps starting down this conversational tangent had been a mistake. misato is a hostile radiator, forcing out judgment in blankets of heat and twisting emotions that clarke doesn't care to pick apart. instead, she steels herself as best she can, hunkers down on acting ambivalent and unaffected when the other woman hurls the barbed reminder that she'd been so privileged as to have been loved as a child. but that hadn't done any good for her father.
loved by wells, who'd come to the ground for her and summarily been buried in it. loved by finn, maybe even lexa, both of whom had died because of her.
love has left clarke sobbing so many times. it's markedly easier to pretend she's above it now.
unconsciously, she's mirroring misato's body language. tightly folds her arms across her chest as if to act as some sort of sealant to keep the surge of despairing thoughts and memories to herself. like trying to hug one's self, it doesn't work. she sounds weary when next she presses speech pattern thoughts into the other woman's mind, far off and distant. and — )
(Kaji or Bellamy?)
( — perhaps a little dismissive. that's a petty sort of armor too. sorry, who are we talking about again? )
no subject
loved by wells, who'd come to the ground for her and summarily been buried in it. loved by finn, maybe even lexa, both of whom had died because of her.
love has left clarke sobbing so many times. it's markedly easier to pretend she's above it now.
unconsciously, she's mirroring misato's body language. tightly folds her arms across her chest as if to act as some sort of sealant to keep the surge of despairing thoughts and memories to herself. like trying to hug one's self, it doesn't work. she sounds weary when next she presses speech pattern thoughts into the other woman's mind, far off and distant. and — )
( Kaji or Bellamy? )
( — perhaps a little dismissive. that's a petty sort of armor too. sorry, who are we talking about again? )