So, this is kind of emotional. It contains some memories from Season One that quite literally hurt me while I referenced it or added it in.
Enjoy.
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The next morning, Grace woke up to Miller shaking her. She looks up, her green eyes hopeful until she noticed the small frown on his face. The corners of her lips dip down as she runs a hand through her hair. That meant Clarke wasn't back yet. "What's up?"
"You were crying in your sleep. You don't remember that?" Miller questions, his hand reaching up to wipe away a few stray tears. Grace frowns. She didn't even realize that. She wipes at her face as memories of her nightmare from last night ran through her mind. It was of the final battle with the grounders, her goodbye to Bellamy was silent as she watched him disappear into the brawl with a final nod of his head. She couldn't stop thinking about him.
It was like there was a constant ache in her chest that never went away. She couldn't stop thinking about him. That stupid way he smirked when she got feisty or her sarcastic remarks came out before she could stop them. Or the annoyed sigh he would always make when she quickened her pace subconsciously and walked in front of them when they were hunting, or the way he would send her his bitch face when she did the exact opposite of what he said to do. That way he grabbed onto her bicep or her wrist or her hand and held it like he was afraid to let it go. The way he made her feel safe.
And now he was gone.
A fake smile grazes her lips as she drops her gaze to the bedsheets. "Right. Sorry."
Miller sighs, his hand running over the little hair on his head. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," Grace whispers, her eyes filling with tears. "I just want to forget."
"Yeah," he murmurs in return. "Me too."
Grace slowly pulls her legs from her blankets. "What time is it?"
Miller shrugs. "Breakfast is later on. It's fucking early."
"Sorry for waking you," Grace sighs, moving her legs so they dangle from the bunk. Miller shrugs and leans back against it, his eyes making their way to her shaky hands. He says nothing.
"I was already awake. Couldn't stop staring at that picture you made," Miller runs his hand over his head again. "Thanks, again. For that."
