[Bellamy tenses at the contact, wary, but he does look. He takes in all of it—the bruises, the cuts, the blood on her knuckles that might not even be hers—and when she's done, he doesn't break eye contact.]

That's bullshit.

[He says it low, level, but intensely.]

Whatever she did to you, you made you. You're the one making the choice to be this every day. You're the one making the choice to pass that pain onto other people.

[Because he's done the exact same thing, over and over.]