𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, bellamy blake ¹

23; what the world had taken

"And all I loved, I loved alone."

― Edgar Allan Poe

➳ ➳ ➳

"OCTAVIA'S GONE?" HER VOICE BROKE UNDER THE STRAIN. Naomi was aware of how red her face was, how her cheeks were blotched and the rings under her eyes was as black as the dirt beneath her feet. She knew that her voice and eyes spoke for themselves. Death.

Clarke nodded, moving to sit beside Naomi. She placed a hand on her knee. "She didn't come back last night. Bellamy and some others went after her."

Naomi nodded. Her head throbbed and her chest burned. She moved to lay back down, staring up at the ceiling of the tent. A hot burst of tears came to her eyes again.

"I'm sorry," said Clarke.

Naomi's face turned into a frown. "I don't need your pity. I need my sister back."

Clarke dipped her head, touching Naomi's hand. She knelt there for a moment, hovering beside her distraught friend. Naomi's eyes looked distant. Clarke sighed and pulled something from her jacket pocket. The necklace shone dull in the dim light of the tent.

Noe snapped her head towards the item and snatched it from Clarke's hands. For a second it rested, lonely, in her hands. Then she curled it into her fist and brought it up to her face.

"Thank you," she said, turning her gaze towards Clarke. It hung against her fingertips, still cold from the outside air. "You... grabbed it from her?" she asked, raising her eyebrows once again, as Clarke noticed she did before she was about to cry.

Clarke bit her cheek. "I was aiming for her jacket."

This time a tear did fall down Naomi's cheek, soft, like a drop of glass. She clutched the necklace to her lips. It was a simple chain, something Naomi had been able to steal for Charlotte's fifth birthday. They'd never seen her take it off.

"I got Monty to fix the chain," said Clarke. Naomi's lips trembled.

"Thank you," she said. She met Clarke's eyes. "Thank you."

The younger girl nodded, blinking slowly. She moved her hand from Naomi's shoulder and walked towards the exit of the tent. Naomi intertwined the chain with her fingers, creating a loop around her hand. There she curled against the sleeping-bag with the necklace pressed to her face.

She imagined Charlotte somewhere down at the bottom of the cliff. Did it hurt?

Naomi heard Clarke open the tent flap. She turned to face her. "Did she really kill Wells?"

Clarke turned slowly, lips pulled inwards. She looked like she was about to cry. She pursed her lips and nodded, oh-so-very slowly. The hollow of Naomi's cheeks seemed to deepen as she swallowed gently, flaring her nostrils once. Another sign she was going to cry, Clarke realised.

"I'm sorry," said Naomi. "I— I... I don't know... how..." But she did know. She knew. Two people she had lost already—two of her friends.

How many more would she lose before the Ark came down?

A small nod was delivered by Clarke, face now crumpled in a frown. God, they were a mess, thought Naomi. Clarke left Naomi alone to her thoughts.

➳ ➳ ➳

There was not a lot Naomi wanted to think about—and no one to talk to. Octavia was missing, which worried her enough, and Bellamy had gone to find her. Clarke had just lost a friend. Jasper and Finn were out, searching for O too. Monty was helping Raven to fix the radio. And everyone else in the damn camp was afraid of her.