[ clarke pulls back the rest of the way and he doesn't fight her on it, his gaze shifting to take stock of what the people around them are doing. clarke is strong, capable, and she's more than proved that time and time again — even when they went toe to toe. neither of them can afford to be weak, but then, they never really could, could they? weakness demands its price in blood. bellamy doubts that's changed with the scenery, even if most of the people milling about look as disoriented as he feels.

his eyes cut to her axe when she lifts it and then flicks back to her, catching her gaze. he doesn't understand most of what's happening, not really, and it's not a feeling that's settling well with him. ]

Well, at least they armed you. Maybe we should hunt down that building. [ the amusement in his tone is deadpan, sarcastic, but not a slight against her. a rise and fall of his shoulders and he's tugging the photograph of octavia out of his back pocket, offering it to her. ] I don't know where she is.

[ a swallow and he averts his eyes. ] I found a pair of headphones, too. I left them back in that room.

[ that room because it isn't his. he doesn't want it, doesn't want anything to do with it. ]