He'll need to be rather firm hand to undo the stranglehold of her fingers in his clothing. But once accomplished and he starts thinking aloud, it's like she was slapped in the face.
"What?" Logicially, Clarke knows they're strangers to him; shouldn't fault that, shouldn't take it personally, and should shift the curtain of emotion aside. But illogically, Pal not knowing her now is a little like Jade and Rita thinking she'd murdered them near Halloween. Only it's worse, because it's not a burning anger he's looking at her with, more a gentle sort of practical indifference. It hurts, to cut to the chase.
And sucks way more when she realizes he's about to throw her out of the Bubble. Is that even possible? Would that even work in a memory? On the off chance it's entirely possible, the River sounds scary — too much like the Nothing. It's a little funny, how in most other memory cracks she'd fallen into, she'd been desperate to get out of. But in Palamedes', she doesn't want to leave.
"What? W — no. No no no." If Pal's still holding on to the hands he'd pried off himself, Clarke's now trying to wriggle her fingers free in order to grasp at his wrists. Desperately:
"We know each other! We meet — after this, after you died."
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"What?" Logicially, Clarke knows they're strangers to him; shouldn't fault that, shouldn't take it personally, and should shift the curtain of emotion aside. But illogically, Pal not knowing her now is a little like Jade and Rita thinking she'd murdered them near Halloween. Only it's worse, because it's not a burning anger he's looking at her with, more a gentle sort of practical indifference. It hurts, to cut to the chase.
And sucks way more when she realizes he's about to throw her out of the Bubble. Is that even possible? Would that even work in a memory? On the off chance it's entirely possible, the River sounds scary — too much like the Nothing. It's a little funny, how in most other memory cracks she'd fallen into, she'd been desperate to get out of. But in Palamedes', she doesn't want to leave.
"What? W — no. No no no." If Pal's still holding on to the hands he'd pried off himself, Clarke's now trying to wriggle her fingers free in order to grasp at his wrists. Desperately:
"We know each other! We meet — after this, after you died."