"Whatever." He snapped almost coldly, turning slightly away from her. He had no idea what had happened, he couldn't remember really ever fighting with her. It was actually a little strange, but whatever- or that's what he was trying to convince himself of, which wasn't necessarily working. Instead he felt pouty, angry, frustrated.
"Fine." He responded to her, "be careful. Bye." The words of concern seemed out of place, but there was a small part of him that didn't want anything to happen and if it did he didn't want the last words he said to her 'fuck off' or something similar. Bentley moved to the front of the tent, she did have a point, and he had work.
He glanced at her through curls before pulling back the flap, "bye." He said quieter, almost more sincere moving to leave, flabbergasted at what had just happened.