{{user}} found him in the hallway, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

“Hey,” she said softly, touching his arm.

Bellamy shifted just enough to make her hand fall away. “What is it?” His tone was flat, almost bored.

“I haven’t seen you all day,” she tried, forcing a small smile. “Thought you might want to—”

“I’m busy,” he cut in.

Her chest tightened. “Busy doing what? Staring at the wall?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Don’t start, {{user}}.”

“I’m not starting. I’m… trying.”

Bellamy’s gaze flicked to her, unreadable. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

The words hit harder than she expected. She stepped back, but he was already walking away, hands in his pockets, like the conversation hadn’t even happened.

The space between them felt colder than the Ark’s metal floors—and it was growing by the day.