[ he can see it, just as anyone else can see it. bellamy's first thought isn't to think it means anything. his mind doesn't seem to work that way, as he's always looked for the worst in every scenario so he can try and plan to block it. (he's never been exceptional at it, but it's helped in the most recent past to always look at a situation and be a pessimist about it.) ]
[ he looks back down at the sketchbook, and finds that despite himself being the best interrogator of the original hundred, he doesn't have anything to say. he doesn't quite know what he'd like to ask. ]
[ so he closes it and places that sketchbook on the nearest table, and finds that that movement has left him a little vulnerable, since he has nothing to use to draw her attention elsewhere. ]
Do you sell any of them?
[ it's not the question he'd want to ask, but he looks to her, and finds that despite it sounding a little lighter than before, something in his chest feels heavy. ]
no subject
[ he looks back down at the sketchbook, and finds that despite himself being the best interrogator of the original hundred, he doesn't have anything to say. he doesn't quite know what he'd like to ask. ]
[ so he closes it and places that sketchbook on the nearest table, and finds that that movement has left him a little vulnerable, since he has nothing to use to draw her attention elsewhere. ]
Do you sell any of them?
[ it's not the question he'd want to ask, but he looks to her, and finds that despite it sounding a little lighter than before, something in his chest feels heavy. ]