Clarke nods, understanding the feeling. During her months in solitary she had covered the floor and walls, using the precious pieces of chalk and pencil to make her small world feel so much bigger. It had kept her sane, kept her (metaphorically) grounded despite not really speaking to anyone for so long. Here in Darrow she's worked to make the apartment that she and Bellamy share feel lived in even from the get go. It's not exactly tidy, but it does feel like a real, solid home. "I get that," she takes another sip of her drink, stirring the ice idly as she grins at her friend. "I'll admit I'm asking for selfish reasons as I'd love to be the one to paint the walls if you do. Weird, I know, but at least you won't have to worry about it."