[ Bellamy cuts himself off, eyes widening. Shock ripples through his thoughts, displacing anger and disdain as he looks at her. Lexa didn't know. Bellamy recoils away from having to be the one to tell her, from the idea that he might never have to speak the words. The knowledge could pass so easily between them. Bellamy isn't even sure how to stop it, hasn't mastered enough to be able to severe a connection and wall off his thoughts. ]
Clarke's safe.
[ That's more prayer than reassurance. Bellamy hadn't seen the outcome of their last desperate gambit. His thoughts are frantic blur as Bellamy, perhaps for the thousandth time since he wriggled from his pod, replays the events in the throne room, trying to find some concrete proof that he hadn't left the last of his people to die even as he'd diverted a greater threat away from them. ]
And we shouldn't be talking about this.
[ It's abrupt. He'd almost rather let her castigate him, dig into his guilt and lambaste him for what he'd done (trying to save his people, trying to do what was right as best he could, but that didn't count for much when weighed against the blood he'd spilled) than have to explain to her that she was dead and gone. Flickers of it are there, distracted by Bellamy's own emotions and events that had come after Lexa, but inescapably present in his thoughts. Lexa's assumption is wrong, and Bellamy can't dispel his reaction to that entirely. ]
no subject
[ Bellamy cuts himself off, eyes widening. Shock ripples through his thoughts, displacing anger and disdain as he looks at her. Lexa didn't know. Bellamy recoils away from having to be the one to tell her, from the idea that he might never have to speak the words. The knowledge could pass so easily between them. Bellamy isn't even sure how to stop it, hasn't mastered enough to be able to severe a connection and wall off his thoughts. ]
Clarke's safe.
[ That's more prayer than reassurance. Bellamy hadn't seen the outcome of their last desperate gambit. His thoughts are frantic blur as Bellamy, perhaps for the thousandth time since he wriggled from his pod, replays the events in the throne room, trying to find some concrete proof that he hadn't left the last of his people to die even as he'd diverted a greater threat away from them. ]
And we shouldn't be talking about this.
[ It's abrupt. He'd almost rather let her castigate him, dig into his guilt and lambaste him for what he'd done (trying to save his people, trying to do what was right as best he could, but that didn't count for much when weighed against the blood he'd spilled) than have to explain to her that she was dead and gone. Flickers of it are there, distracted by Bellamy's own emotions and events that had come after Lexa, but inescapably present in his thoughts. Lexa's assumption is wrong, and Bellamy can't dispel his reaction to that entirely. ]