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WONDERING !
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 THIRTY-NINE・*: ·. ⇌ ஜ .·: *



   Millie has a very childlike rage.

Every loss, every mistake, was seared into her soul, creating a different kind of tattoo, one made from rage and abandonment, heartbreak and tears. She could never let it go, none of it. Rage was sometimes a useful ally in the heat of a fight, but it was a trickster. It made everything seem possible.

It was as if she were a child again.

Well, not that she remembered being a child at all.

But she imagines a younger version of herself, small and naive. She wonders if the child in her was proud of her, of who she had become.

Probably not.

"Your sister is fine; Octavia can take care of herself," Millie says, crawling behind Bellamy now.

"Yeah, in a fight, not against a bomb," Bellamy responds quickly, Millie knew he was thinking about it. His body was rigid, and his arms were trembling, Millie wasn't sure if it was his lack of strength or exhaustion. Both, she imagines.

She sighs, she knows there's not much she can say to put him at ease, not when his sister was about to explode into a million tiny Octavia pieces.

So, she says the one thing she thinks will keep his mind off of it.

"I was um," she clears her throat, and his head perks up. "I was worried about you since I've been in here."

"You mean the group?" Bellamy's questions, hesitant.

Millie licks her lips, "Well, yeah of course. . ." Her muscles begin to tighten. "But I've been worried about you," Millie emphasizes, thanking the heavens above that he couldn't look at her.

"Oh." Bellamy breathes, pausing for a moment.

"Worried about me and you're the one who was kidnapped." Bellamy shakes his head, releasing a slight chuckle.

"Hey, I kick ass– you on the other hand?"

"Hey! I kick ass." Bellamy's defends, leading them back down the ladder.

"Not mine." She mumbles, smiling to herself.

She doesn't like it; she doesn't like it one bit. Not in the way the thought of Bellamy Blake made her insides go cold and send her mind into an endless frenzy. And she certainly didn't like how much she thought of him.

"We were worried about you, too," Bellamy reveals, Millie frowns. Oh.

"Thanks." She says flatly.

Millie places her foot on the ground, dusting the dust off of her hands against her pants. Millie takes a little too long examining her pants, making sure every speckle of dust and dirt is off of them. Not that she cared, she spent most of her life in a cave. But Bellamy and Millie were out of the vents now, and he was staring at her.

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