✮ Her head wished she had went on thinking he was an infuriating, overly-confident, horribly handsome asshole, that hated her people and always put himself first. Her heart knew he wasn't any of those things. He was a celestial; a man plucked from t...
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"I love him. So much. To the point where you won't understand. You don't get it because I don't get it. It's there. It exists. It flows. It moves like rapids through my veins. Comes with bursts and occasionally fades with the day, but it's always there. And when you find a love like that, you don't want to give it up."
—Dominic Riccitello
It was a metal island out in the middle of an endless body of water, and it was nothing like Astoria had ever seen. She'd looked upon seas of trees, and lakes so large she could barley make out the other side, but the sight in front of her must have been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The blue of the ocean was darker than that of the sky, and they mixed on the horizon. The sun was about to begin its decent to allow the moon to shine, and Astoria imagined that it would be even more stunning then. She could watch it forever.
The others had gone inside, waiting for another chance to speak with Luna. Astoria knew that if the woman had already decided against taking the flame, there was no changing her mind. She also preferred the fresh air, especially because she had a horrible headache that she was trying to keep from her friends. It hurt less outside, so she leant against the railing the kept people from falling into the deep ocean and allowed the wind to blow the hair off her back. One of her small braids hit her cheeky lightly, but she didn't try to tuck it behind her ear.
Everything was so peaceful, and she was nearly able to forget about all the horrible things that had gotten her there. Until, his voice came from behind her.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," Bellamy advised, but Astoria showed no indication of having heard him. Her shoulders didn't tense, nor did a huff escape her lips, and she didn't turn to face him. He should have expected that.
He still moved closer, and leaned on the railing beside her. He only leaved a few inches between them, and if he moved his elbow slightly to the right they'd be touching. It was an adolescent observation, but he couldn't help it. He didn't say anything more, and didn't dare look at her. She was allowing him be in her presence, and that was enough for him.
"I was terrified to let myself love you," she broke the silence after a few minutes, voice strong as though the words didn't hurt to say. He risked looking at her, and she didn't look away from the ocean to meet his gaze. The cuts on her face from Emerson were slowly healing, and the dark bruise by her eye had started to fade. It still looked painful. "I didn't even think I would be capable of loving after Costia died."
Astoria had told him about her, two months before while they laying in his bed. He hadn't known her by name; only as someone Astoria cared for that she lost, and who Murphy surprisingly helped her bury. She told him she ruined Costia's life, and even shared that she had been prepared to let herself die to give the woman peace. Bellamy had wanted to grow angry at that when she told him, because it had only been days after he got her back. After she returned from the mountain bleeding and shaking, and then she was prepared to allow him to lose her again.
