Hushed Willows shakespeare in the park

For a moment he thinks that this might be okay. It's foolish given the hysterics that Octavia is caught in, and if he'd been there, if he'd believed what she had seen and thought and worried that Tambourine was actually dead he'd probably be just as distraught. Stark wasn't the type to blindly accept a situation; he would analyze, figure it out. She pulls away, she yields briefly, and then she pushes back and he can't help her right then. 

Stark, for as much as he wanted to do, couldn't fix it magically. "Octavia," He didn't shirk back from the intensity of her gaze, the challenge in her eyes - this wasn't about them right then and the dark male could see that. It was about the only obvious thing. It was all about Tambourine. Before they'd joked when life was so much easier, oddly enough in the famine. They'd talked about escape, about some paradise, but this - the paradise was lost, replaced in the way that she looked at him then. 

"That's what I want, too. What's best for both of you." He said quietly as she left him behind, frowning as he turned to head to try and track down Harlyn. They'd have to talk about things and figure out where to move forward if it was possible.