WONDERING ➭ THE 100

011

ੈ♡₊˚•. ˖⋆ ━━━━━⠀WONDERING !
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ⋯ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ˓ 𑁍ࠜೄ
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 ELEVEN ・*:·. ⇌ ஜ  .·:*

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you just, stop."

Every head in the room whipped to Millie, bewildered expressions on their faces. The blonde panted, and then swallowed thickly. She avoided Lincoln's gaze, knowing he was upset with her. And she knew she wasn't being brave, like he taught her. She was being weak, and feeble. But truthfully, she didn't care, whatever the raven haired girl was doing to him could kill him. She would sacrifice the mystery of language over his death, every single time.

"Just," Millie paused, eyes boring fiercely into the brunettes. "Stop." The girl with the electrical wires set them down, a few sparks let out when she did so. Octavia took the vials from Clarke, and walked them over to Millie. Octavia tried to send Millie a sympathetic look, but Millie avoided it.

Through clenched teeth, Millie peered down at the tray, and she pointed the right vial out immediately. Octavia smiled gratefully, and handed it to Clarke. "Wait," Bellamy put a hand out in front of Octavia, eyeing Millie. "How do we know she's telling the truth? What if it only makes him worse?" Bellamy doubted, and Millie rolled her eyes.

"She wouldn't do that–"

Bellamy snapped his head to Octavia, glaring harshly. "You don't know that." The younger Blake looked to Clarke for guidance, but she only looked down at the ground. "Oh for crying out loud." Octavia muttered in annoyance, snatching the knife from her brothers fingers.

"Hey! What-"

She then cut her own wrist, in a feeble attempt to prove Millie wasn't lying. Millie kept her shock under the cold exterior of her expressions, she wasn't aware how much Octavia actually trusted her. Millie couldn't decide if it was stupid or brave. Perhaps a bit of both. Truthfully, if it came down to it, Millie wouldn't have done the same. The blonde turned her head to the side when the people in the room scolded Octavia, but Lincoln grunted which gained all their attention.

Octavia then walked to Lincoln, holding up the vial Millie pointed out. "Is this the one?" She asked. Lincoln paused, and there was a thick tension circulating in the room that was almost choke-able.

Lincoln's head started to nod slowly, eyes trained solely on Octavia. The group let out a breath of relief, and sparky and Clarke grabbed the vial quickly, and back down the hatch they went. Bellamy's eyes were focused on Millie, who was too busy staring at Lincoln to notice. He was still shaking in pain, and his face was contorted. Blood dripped from his fingers, much like it dripped down her arms.

Bellamy would never admit it out loud, ever, but the minute Millie's voice rang out his entire body ran cold. He hadn't given much thought of what her voice would sound like, but it wasn't this. It was smooth and strong, and silky and loud all at the same time. Her voice demanded to be heard, a sound of authority. And he was afraid, if circumstances were different, and they weren't on opposite sides of a brewing war; he might've enjoyed the sound of her voice.

The rest of the people in the room, which only consisted of Bellamy, Octavia and the boy with the hat followed after Clarke and the other girl. With the exception of Bellamy, who seemed hellbent on leaving the two grounders alone where they were unsupervised and could concoct a plan to escape. Or worse even, kill them all.