Sometimes, during the night after everyone is either asleep or on watch, Monty would look up into the sky (the sky that holds simpler times, before there were lonely nights where he silently suffocates. When he didn't have so much blood dripping from his hands), and he would dream of a different Earth. An Earth that doesn't lust and scream for blood, that doesn't do everything in its power to have it no matter the consequences ("more dead friends").
Other times, he can't even bring himself to dream. As it all feels like a sick joke, being able to dream of a 'perfect world' while Jasper drinks himself into oblivion, Clarke sinks deeper into the forest away from them, and Bellamy crumbles a bit more inside (Gina does help, but everyone can see she isn't the one Bellamy wishes was there with him).
Today is the day where instead of dreaming he buries himself in work, to evade the hopeless illusions of a better, less bloodthirsty universe.
This is my very first drabble I have ever done! I hope you enjoyed and know that although I'm labelling it as finished, I may be adding more drabbles like this (warning, expect lots of Miller and Minty if I do more of these) and so I might make this a collection.