[Behind the hand she's still using to lightly hold her face (not she needs to; it's not like it's going to fall apart), her eyes scrunch up critically when Clarke says efficiency.]

...Why do you think I'm here and not still there?

[As in, she did walk away, though she hated doing it, just imagining Darcy still in the kitchen, probably gloating...]

Besides, how the hell do you call this lucky?! If I'd been lucky, this wouldn't even have happened!