The politeness of his rejection just continues to smack. Cold but not too cold; warm but not warm enough she could melt into it. A moment is offered in which to further compose herself and Clarke takes it; half turns away from him and exhales a ragged, rattling breath. Her eyes still burn, but the tears have been firmly locked away.

And it's then that she reminds herself how these memories usually come to an end. Another rift will open up, and touching it will drag her back through space and time, depositing her unceremoniously on a carpeted hallway of the Serena Eterna. If she could will one into existence right now, she would. Would paint it against the wall of his Bubble and willingly reach out, just to save them both the headache.

But at least for the moment, the room just looks like a room. Uninterrupted, whole. Flimsy maybe, but still a safe haven. It strikes her that she has no idea why or how this whole place was manifested in the afterlife.

"What are you going to do next? How do you plan to get out of this?"