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WONDERING !
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 THIRTY ONE・*:·. ⇌ ஜ .·:*





   Octavia was gone by the time Millie woke up.

   Her legs ached as she stretched them, and her back has gone completely numb from the pressure of the concrete floor. She didn't sleep on the bed with Octavia like she typically did, so really she hardly slept at all. She was feeling particularly on guard last night. Not that she didn't trust Octavia. . . she didn't trust herself.

  The drop ship was oddly quiet, usually, by now either Bellamy or Clarke would've dragged Millie out of bed to discuss some diplomacy or recite some hero speech.

  Thankfully, Millie didn't have to participate in politics so early.

  She'd have to thank Octavia for that later. The blonde girl had a split second of peace before she heard the familiar sound of thumping boots heading her way. A woman she didn't recognize and another male guard stopped at her door, Millie stood up in alarm.

  Her hand was already on her knife behind her back.

   And then without warning, Abby let herself into Millie's room without announcement.

  The older woman looked exhausted, and her shoulders were slumped. She wasn't used to this. She wasn't prepared to come to the ground. She didn't know what she was doing. None of them knew what they were doing.

  And yet, they all pretended that they did.

  Fools.

   The woman licked her lips, ignoring Millie's defensive stance and taking a spot on the bed. The other two guards left, which Millie found strange. They did not trust her enough to be left alone with their leader.

  "We can get you a room of your own if you'd like."

  Millie crossed her arms over her chest, her knife peaking out of her sleeve. Abby shrugged,

  "Or at least an extra bed, that way you and Octavia aren't crammed into one." She continued, eyeing Millie. But she wasn't glaring at her or staring at her in disgust as everyone else did.

  She was tired.

  And right now she didn't care where Millie came from, or whose side she was on. She didn't trust Millie, but she needed her.

  "You didn't come to talk about room decor," Millie stated firmly, rubbing her thumb on her blade. It pricked her skin comfortably, putting a familiar distance between herself and Abby.

  Abby snickered, rubbing her eyebrows. "No, no I didn't." Abby clears her throat, picking her eyes up from the ground to finally look at Millie.

  "I need to ask a favor from you." Abby begins, and Millie scrunches her nose. "I know you don't owe me anything– I'm pretty sure you don't even like me, hell I don't like you very much either but– if you help me I can help you."

  "What makes you think I need your help?"

   Abby shrugs again. "Maybe you don't. But surely slumming it in here is a hell of a lot easier than out there on your own."

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