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Monty tended to blend into the background of any gathering without particularly intending to do so, but he couldn't say that he minded. In fact, he quite enjoyed watching the interactions between his friends. He saw before anyone else that Finn's eyes tended to follow Clarke around the drop ship's campsite. He saw - but did not comment on - the way that Clarke's gaze strayed as equally to the women that Bellamy paraded around his sleeping quarters as they did to Bellamy himself.
Monty saw these things because he watched. This, he supposed, explained the way that his eyes kept finding Clarke at the edge of the Grounder’s communal fire. His eyes drawn to the softness of her gaze as she looked at The Commander.
Monty did not see the beginning of their relationship. He did not witness the tender gaze that The Commander bestowed on Clarke the night of Finn's mercy killing. He did not see the softness of Lexa's touch when she led Clarke away from the post with Finn's body slumped against it. He did not see the way that Lexa bowed to Clarke's wishes, gave way to her desires, and acted upon her wisdom.
However, he did not need to have seen these things to understand the weight behind Clarke's fingers on The Commander's shoulder. His lips quirked up into a smile when he caught the tender expression appear on Lexa's lips. Clarke lent sideways until her head dropped onto Lexa's shoulder. Lexa's hand rose to clasp around Clarke's smaller fingers, squeezing tight to offer silence reassurance to the woman, continuing to speak to her Generals.
Monty settled into the corner of his group, his heart content at the sight of Clarke's happiness, the first signs of the peaceful girl that dropped from the sky appearing through the cracks of leadership.