( it'd been a shared tangle of exultation, guilt, a strange cousin of grief when she'd bodily crashed into bellamy in the doorway of the naerstone house. relief, that the darkling had been telling the truth, that she wasn't alone, that he was safe. contrition for the fact neither of them was home, that the rest of their people weren't here with them either. despite what bellamy and murphy professed about conquering the city of light, it still felt like leaving loved ones to the wolves.
clarke's lips press tightly, rigid. she chooses her next words very carefully. )
It doesn't all make for very easy conversation. ( salts the wounds homesickness and regret have carved. ) I'm sure he'd tell you if you asked.
no subject
clarke's lips press tightly, rigid. she chooses her next words very carefully. )
It doesn't all make for very easy conversation. ( salts the wounds homesickness and regret have carved. ) I'm sure he'd tell you if you asked.