[ Their anger knits together. Bellamy can't clearly delineate between what's Lexa's and what's his own. There's no clear thread of grief; they are both mourning. Hearing her words in his head is like a door opening a crack. Bellamy could put his eye to it but he wouldn't be able to see enough to understand. In some ways, it has always been like that with Lexa. Even when Sam had broken them both apart, he hadn't gleaned enough of Lexa's mind to be able to clearly map her out. Bellamy has drips and drabs of Lexa, but his interpretation is faulty. Understanding that, he knows better than to hazard a guess at her question. When he and Clarke argued, they both understood immediately the ways they were hurting each other. But Lexa's pain comes from somewhere Bellamy doesn't grasp; unable to correctly pin down the source, Bellamy is left without a way to assuage him.
The urge to reach for her takes shape in the back of his mind. Maybe it's a mirror of Clarke, or maybe it stems from the same instincts that propel him endlessly to reach for Murphy. Actions have always been the best way Bellamy knows to express himself. ]
(I think you should tell me.)
[ If he tried guessing, it would not be the first time Bellamy had been wrong. But being wrong in this conversation would do too much damage. Bellamy doesn't think the fragile web of connection between them could weather it. ]
no subject
The urge to reach for her takes shape in the back of his mind. Maybe it's a mirror of Clarke, or maybe it stems from the same instincts that propel him endlessly to reach for Murphy. Actions have always been the best way Bellamy knows to express himself. ]
( I think you should tell me. )
[ If he tried guessing, it would not be the first time Bellamy had been wrong. But being wrong in this conversation would do too much damage. Bellamy doesn't think the fragile web of connection between them could weather it. ]