𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞︱the 100, book 1

( thirty-two )

There was something different about Octavia, Harley slowly realized, as she watched her hug Bellamy tightly. Her dark hair was pulled back into braids to frame her sharp face, a sword hanging in a sheath slung over her back, but the same person. She saved their lives by blowing the horn, scaring the grounder's off before they all died. A proud, grateful smile arose on Harley's face as Bellamy directed his sister to the group.

Octavia's eyes met Harley's and a grin spread across her own face. "Hey!" She breathed out, striding forward. To Harley's disbelief, her friend through her arms over her shoulders and tightly embraced her.

Her heart warmed as she hugged Octavia back, glad. "I'm so happy you're alive," Harley whispered, remembering the last time she was Octavia was before the war at the dropship, and didn't even spend time to think that she wasn't in the dropship before the door closed. But she was alive; and for that, she was thankful.

"Likewise," Octavia responded in a soft mumble, patting Harley's back once before pulling away and releasing her. In seconds, her eyes widened in realization upon seeing the bit of red on the other's shirt. "Oh no, Harley, you're bleeding!" She exclaimed, her hand reaching out to touch the side.

Harley paused to look down, slowly processing what Octavia said. She didn't even process the stinging pain in her side, until now, when the adrenaline faded. "Oh," Harley responded in comprehension to the injury. "Would you look at that."

"Let me look at it," Octavia requested, guiding Harley to a large boulder. Harley winced as she sat down, feeling the sting from her wound sharply. As Octavia lifted her shirt far enough to see it, she looked over to see that Clover was helping Monroe with her arrow wound and Bellamy was tying a sling into Mel's arm. Finn was distancing himself from the others, choosing to kneel in front of the map that the grounder who he killed drew them. Shaking her head, she concentrated back on her injury.

The stitches were still in tact, but pulled through, leaving the wound a bit open again, causing the bleeding. It didn't look bad, so there was that to be grateful for. "It's not too bad," Harley spoke up, trying to dismiss Octavia's concerned features crossing her face. "I'll be okay. Thanks to you." If it wasn't for Octavia blowing the horn, none of them would be okay. She needed to know that.

Giving the other a small smile, Octavia finished inspecting the injury and gently lowered the shirt back down. As she did, Murphy approached, his gaze darting to the pack she abandoned, with the horn attached to the strap. "Nice foghorn," he complimented, leaning over to touch and observe it. "What happened to your boyfriend?"

With a scowl, Octavia snatched the object out of Murphy's hand. "He's gone." The sharp statement made Harley's face soften and she frowned, pitying her. Lincoln was the first grounder she's met, and as far as she knew, the kindest. Murphy hadn't expected that, but backed up, giving Octavia the space she needed.

Octavia's head fell forward, and Harley reached out, brushing her hand through the wisps of hair loose from the braids. "Hey," Bellamy greeted as he approached, his voice soft, as he crouched behind her. "I'm sorry, O."