[if only Clarke knew that he wasn't referring to immediate comfort, but to the twisting knots that snake inside of her gut and spit poison into her mind. too aware that one home-cooked meal can't fix anything, instead he's hoping to pry her thoughts open and allow for some dialogue. he sees through her, understands that his ability to do so likely angers her. he can't turn it off, can't change that part of himself.

she just doesn't give up, in more ways than one. he's patient, eyes following every step she takes. he silently watches as she slices the bagged milk open and leaves it on the shelf to be found. the scavenger hunt seemed to be lightening the mood for some, or at least allowed some new distraction for those looking for one.

the door is easily caught open with his free hand as she leads him out, then he's falling into step beside her. even though there are no cars and traffic is basically zilch, he still sticks to the outside of the walkways. others around him seem to give a wide birth, avoiding the possibility of bumping into them.]

My house. It appeared while we were in the labyrinth, it isn't very far from the apartments. I'm assuming you know where Bangsan Market is? It's north of there.