( the clarity she'd asked for, the realization of what's happening here, the sudden understanding of that first very alarming text — it all hits like a freight train. relief pours out like someone just levelled a dam, and scrolling back up through their current messages (NOT so far as to touch upon the ones from november 1st, or those awful first few days of october), clarke thinks she sees exactly what's happening here.
make UP. not make OUT.
and then she needs to take a brief 30 seconds to wheeze-laugh her way out of an impending existential crisis. tears in her eyes (and for once not the sad kind) when finally picking up her phone to type back. )
Rita...
( ...you're actually so incredibly sweet. and this is new, and weird, and strikes clarke a little close to the heart knowing the other girl had paid enough attention to know, and remember it. that's not genius talking, that's some level of care. )
no subject
make UP. not make OUT.
and then she needs to take a brief 30 seconds to wheeze-laugh her way out of an impending existential crisis. tears in her eyes (and for once not the sad kind) when finally picking up her phone to type back. )
Rita...
( ...you're actually so incredibly sweet. and this is new, and weird, and strikes clarke a little close to the heart knowing the other girl had paid enough attention to know, and remember it. that's not genius talking, that's some level of care. )
Are you drunk or concussed?