Amber trudged back towards the dropship, her steps heavy with exhaustion. The night air clung to her like a damp shroud, and she yearned for the solace of her makeshift bed. The conversation with John still echoed in her mind, his words of caution and the weight of their shared burden. She kept her gaze fixed ahead, determined to ignore the prying stares and whispered rumors that followed her like shadows.
However, as she neared the dropship, the raucous laughter of a group of teenage boys broke through the night's stillness. The pungent scent of moonshine wafted towards her, mixing with the chill of the evening. Amber's senses sharpened, her instincts on high alert. She knew all too well the destructive power of rumors, the way they could twist truths into distorted tales of horror.
Trying to maintain her composure, she quickened her pace, attempting to drown out their drunken jeers. She clung to John's words like a lifeline, reminding herself to remain detached, to not let their taunts penetrate her armor. But then, amidst their inebriated laughter, a venomous remark sliced through the air.
"She killed the intensive care patients, too."
Time seemed to slow, and something inside Amber snapped. Without warning, she pivoted on her heel, her eyes blazing with an intensity that demanded attention. In a swift and fluid motion, she closed the distance between herself and the one who had uttered those words. With a surge of raw strength, she pinned him against the rough metal surface of the dropship, her grip firm but controlled.
Her silence spoke volumes, a chilling reminder of the depths she had been forced to plumb, the sacrifices she had made to survive. Amber held his gaze, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger, pain, and a silent plea for understanding. And then, as if the moment had never existed, she released her grip, letting him go without a word.
Walking away, her steps measured and deliberate, she carried the weight of their confrontation on her shoulders. The silence that followed her departure hung heavy in the air, a sobering reminder of the darkness that resided within her and the fear it inspired in others.
Amber stepped into the dimly lit interior, her gaze fixed straight ahead, determined to ignore the curious stares she was accustomed to receiving from her fellow delinquents. The silence inside the vessel felt unsettling, an eerie calm that sent shivers down her spine. She disliked the stillness, for it reminded her too much of the secrets and darkness that lurked within her own mind.
Her eyes scanned the cramped space, searching for a corner to claim for the night. However, every nook seemed to be occupied, leaving her without a place to curl up and find solace. Frustration prickled at her skin as she scratched her head, contemplating her options.
With a resigned sigh, Amber turned her attention toward the ladder leading to the upper level of the dropship. As her calloused hands made contact with the cold metal, a sudden feeling of being watched washed over her. It was a distinct sensation, unlike the casual gazes she was accustomed to from her peers. This gaze held a weight, an intensity that set her on edge.
Instinctively, she spun around, her eyes darting across the room. The other teenagers were engaged in deep conversations, their attention fixated on their own concerns. Yet, there, amidst the crowd, her eyes locked with his—Bellamy Blake. It was a fleeting moment, but it felt like an eternity as their gazes met and held.
Amber found herself unable to decipher the expression in his eyes, and she sensed the same uncertainty reflected in her own. Their silent exchange held a complexity that defied simple categorization. It wasn't threatening, nor was it friendly. It was a connection laced with unspoken questions, a clash of guarded souls testing the boundaries of understanding.
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, the sound drowning out the muted conversations around her. For that brief moment, the world seemed to stand still as their eyes locked, two enigmatic forces drawing near but unable to bridge the gap between them.
Biting her tongue, Amber tore her gaze away, breaking the connection. She resumed her ascent up the ladder, the metal rungs feeling cool and unforgiving beneath her fingertips. With each step, she pushed aside the enigmatic encounter, burying it deep within the recesses of her mind. There were greater challenges to face, darker secrets to confront.
As she reached the top and disappeared from view, the weight of that gaze lingered in her thoughts. Once she stood, voices echoed through the metal chamber.
"I guess we have to get used to people dying down here, don't we?" Octavia said to Clarke, "But not you. You hear me? You're not allowed to die." She hovered over the unconscious body of Jasper Jordan, speaking to him as if he was awake. Finn and Monty were there too. Amber stood awkwardly, not making a noise. They didn't know she was there, and Amber was going to try to keep it that way. But suddenly, Clarke stood, turning around to leave. Her jaw hardened slightly when she saw Amber standing across the room, and continued to follow through with her exit.
Amber stood there, her discomfort palpable as she observed the somber scene before her. Jasper appeared lifeless, his still form contrasting sharply with Octavia's desperate attempt to provide him some comfort. Clarke's departure only added to the heaviness in the room, leaving behind an awkward silence.
Feeling the weight of their gazes, Amber shifted uncomfortably, her usual stoicism momentarily replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. She struggled to find the right words, her voice wavering as she attempted to explain herself.
"I... I was just... looking for a place to sleep," Amber muttered, her words stumbling over each other. She glanced down, her features contorted into an unexpectedly childlike expression. It was a stark contrast to her typically composed demeanor, adding to the sense of unease in the room.
Octavia's concern softened her expression, understanding the vulnerability Amber was showing. She exchanged a brief glance with Monty, who nodded in understanding, while Finn maintained a more cautious stance.
Amber's eyes remained fixed on the floor, her inner turmoil evident. "I'll find somewhere else," she murmured, her voice tinged with resignation. She began to turn towards the ladder, still avoiding eye contact, when Octavia's voice halted her movements.
"You can stay, Amber," Octavia's voice carried a note of sincerity. Amber slowly pivoted back, her brow furrowing in confusion. She questioned whether she had heard correctly. But as she locked eyes with Octavia's genuine smile, a flicker of hope ignited within her.
"I... can... stay?" Amber repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. She stood frozen in place, unsure of how to process this unexpected offer. Octavia rose from her spot and walked over to a nearby pillar, taking a seat against it. Finn followed suit, finding his own spot nearby.
"Yeah, come," Octavia beckoned, patting the space beside her. Amber hesitated for a moment, battling conflicting emotions, but the sight of Monty grabbing a bottle and joining Octavia eased her uncertainty. With a sigh, she made her way over and settled herself against the wall, drawing her legs close to her body.
Amber's gaze inadvertently landed on Jasper's lifeless form, and a pang of sadness tugged at her heart. She swiftly suppressed the emotion, reminding herself of John's words echoing in her head, urging her to avoid forming attachments. Don't make friends, his voice echoed in her mind. But as she sat there, surrounded by the unexpected warmth of Octavia and Monty's presence, a sliver of vulnerability seeped through her defenses.
Monty took a swig from the bottle, his cough echoing in the air. Amber glanced at the liquid, its color mirroring her own eyes. It was in that moment, amidst the shared sorrow and silent camaraderie, that Amber realized the delicate balance she was navigating—a dance between self-preservation and the innate longing for connection.
As Monty extended the bottle towards her, she shook her head vigorously, refusing the offer. His brows furrowed in confusion, but he didn't press further. Instead, he reached out to hand it to Octavia, who accepted it without hesitation.
Amber watched Octavia's hand close around the bottle, observing the ease with which she embraced the momentary reprieve from their grim reality. Something within Amber stirred—a mix of curiosity and a longing to let go, even just for a moment. She mirrored Monty's earlier movements, extending her hand to take the bottle. With a wince, she swallowed the liquid, feeling its burn as it traveled down her throat. "Disgusting," she muttered, a hint of amusement lacing her voice. "I love it."
Suddenly, "Can I get a hit of that?" The group's heads turned towards the voice, and Amber's attention snapped to Jasper. With a surge of relief, she found herself rushing towards the now conscious boy, the others following closely behind. Amber knelt beside him, her hands instinctively lifting his head off the pillow with gentle care, ensuring he wouldn't strain his neck.
Finn appeared beside her, holding a canteen of water in his hand. He brought it to Jasper's parched lips, encouraging him to drink. As Amber supported Jasper, she couldn't help but notice the look on her own face reflected in Finn's eyes. It was a mixture of relief, tenderness, and a flicker of something deeper. Her golden eyes sparkled with a hint of warmth as she subtly smiled down at the boy, revealing a flash of teeth before she caught herself. In that fleeting moment, her defenses crumbled, and a glimpse of vulnerability escaped.
Amber's gaze lifted, meeting Finn's gaze in a brief but intense connection. Their eyes locked, and in that split second, an unspoken understanding passed between them. Finn could sense the conflicting emotions swirling within Amber, the struggle she tried to hide behind her stoic facade. His instincts urged him to comment, to reach out to her, but he restrained himself, knowing it wasn't the right time or place. Instead, he shifted his focus back to Jasper, offering his support and a genuine smile. "Welcome back, buddy."
Jasper's voice croaked with uncertainty, breaking the momentary silence. "Was that a dream or did I get speared?" His question elicited a shared chuckle from the group, a collective release of tension.
"You'll have a very impressive scar to prove it." A voice broke through the circle, and Amber's muscles tensed at the sound of Clarke's voice. Uncertainty gnawed at her, torn between the instinct to drop Jasper's head and retreat or to stay put. But Clarke seemed oblivious to her presence, her attention solely focused on Jasper. She crouched down, speaking to him with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "Thank you, for not dying. I don't think I could have taken that today."
Amber couldn't help but feel a pang of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she resented Clarke's coldness towards her, the way she distanced herself without any explanation. But on the other hand, she couldn't deny the genuine relief in Clarke's voice, the raw emotion that seeped through her guarded exterior. It was a rare glimpse into Clarke's true feelings.
Jasper, always the light in their group, responded with his characteristic wit, earning chuckles from everyone present. Amber couldn't help but smile, her own tension easing momentarily in the warmth of their shared laughter. Octavia, with her infectious grin, placed a hand on Jasper's knee, her excitement palpable. Amber watched, a silent observer, as Jasper's body responded to Octavia's touch, a spark of life rekindled within him. The genuine connection between Octavia and Jasper was undeniable.
As the laughter subsided, Amber sensed the departure of the others, leaving her and Octavia alone with the weakened Jasper. She kept her gaze fixed on Jasper, his eyelids fluttering shut as exhaustion took hold of him. Amber carefully laid his head down, a tenderness in her actions contrasting with her stoic exterior. A sigh escaped her lips, a mix of concern and weariness.
It was in that quiet moment that Octavia's words reached Amber's ears, a whisper shared only between them. "You're not so bad, you know?" The words hung in the air, tinged with a touch of vulnerability and understanding. Amber's gaze shifted to meet Octavia's, and for a brief moment, they shared a connection beyond words. It was a fleeting recognition of their shared struggles, a silent acknowledgement of the complexities that shaped their paths.
Amber's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of gratitude and acceptance in her eyes. She didn't respond verbally, for words seemed inadequate in that moment. Instead, she offered Octavia a nod, a subtle acknowledgement of the bond forming between them, a small step towards acceptance in a world marred by pain and mistrust.
"You think?" Amber finally looked at the younger girl, her hazel eyes meeting Octavia's gaze. There was something captivating about Octavia, Amber thought. Her beauty was undeniable, a combination of youthfulness and strength that drew attention effortlessly. It made Amber pause and reflect on her own perception of her appearance. She had never placed much importance on her looks, never sought validation or admiration. It was a rarity for anyone to tell her she was attractive, and she had long accepted that it wasn't a concern in the harsh reality they lived in.
Amber's mind wandered, contemplating the changes that time had brought upon her. How much had she transformed since the last time she truly saw herself in a mirror? Did she even want to be seen as attractive? These thoughts, foreign to her in their rarity, crept into her consciousness. She recognized the signs of womanhood in herself, the subtle physical shifts that marked her growth. The once-monthly cycle that was halted when she was imprisoned, the implant that interfered with her natural processes. No one had ever made her feel beautiful, and in the grand scheme of survival, it seemed inconsequential.
In that moment, Amber made a conscious decision. She didn't care if she was conventionally attractive or not. It held no purpose in the fight for survival that consumed their world. However, deep down, a part of her acknowledged that Octavia possessed an undeniable allure, a captivating presence that drew people in. And perhaps, there was a hint of envy masked beneath her indifference.
Octavia's words snapped Amber back to the present, her smug smile taunting the very essence of Amber's being. The accusation of a massive, obscure, and gloomy void within her chest struck a chord, for it was a truth that Amber often confronted within herself. But Octavia's next words caught her off guard, unraveling the facade she carefully maintained. "In reality, you have a big, big heart."
Amber's jaw tightened, a mixture of emotions flickering across her face. Octavia's perception pierced through the layers of her defenses, laying bare the contradictions that resided within her. It was a backhanded compliment, a subtle challenge to the notion that she was defined solely by her actions. For a brief moment, Amber felt exposed, her vulnerabilities laid bare before Octavia's perceptive eyes.
"God forbid I have human emotions," Amber almost yelled, her frustration palpable in the air. Octavia was taken aback by the sudden intensity and leaned back slightly, caught off guard. But as Amber inched closer to her face, her voice dropped to a whisper, and Octavia realized she wasn't being serious at all. A mischievous glint danced in Amber's eyes as she asked, "Are you a psychic?" Octavia couldn't help but roll her eyes at the playful remark.
"Shut up," Octavia laughed, her laughter mingling with Amber's. "See there—" Octavia pointed out, "You're laughing. You do have a personality."
Amber, still wearing a hint of a smirk, rolled her eyes in response and shrugged while saying simply, "Float me".
"You're funny," Octavia chuckled, the sound of it filling the air between them. "Not everyone hates you, you know. We're all criminals down here, whether you like it or not. You're no different, no special snowflake, no offense."
"I'm no different, except my face was plastered on the walls of the Ark for months on end, with half a dozen deaths attached to my name. Not only that, but my brother and I have a clear habit of garnering attention," Amber replied, crossing her arms in a defensive gesture. Octavia only shrugged, seemingly unfazed.
"You know Geoffrey? Kinda long, blonde hair," Octavia described, but Amber shook her head, indicating she didn't know him. "Whatever– he killed fifteen civilians when he poisoned rations with arsenic four years ago." Amber's face shifted, registering the gravity of the information being shared. Octavia continued, "Kate, short red hair, scar on her cheek, killed her family and two guards using a box cutter. Elijah, tall, buzzcut, blue eyes, injured twelve and killed two in an attempted bombing of the food hall two years ago—" Amber interrupted her, needing a moment to process the flood of names and crimes.
"Alright, I get it. How do you know all this?" Amber's curiosity piqued, her gaze fixed on Octavia.
"One hundred senseless teenagers in one place, word spreads fast," Octavia shrugged once more, nonchalant in her response. Amber's lips curled up into a genuine smile, a rare sight that illuminated her face.
"Do you want something from me? Is that what this is?" Amber interrogated, her voice laced with suspicion as she furrowed her brows. Octavia was taken aback by the sudden hostility in Amber's tone. She had only been trying to extend a friendly gesture.
"I know this concept must seem... kind of wild to you—" Octavia began, her voice calm and measured, trying to defuse the tension. "But I'm just being polite."
"Sounds like you want to be my friend," Amber retorted, her guard still up.
"I do want to be your friend," Octavia admitted, her gaze steady and sincere.
"My friend?" Amber pointed to herself, her brows furrowing in disbelief.
"No, I want to be friends with the other girl who also lived under the floor," Octavia replied, rolling her eyes dramatically and exasperatingly clawing at her cheeks in mock annoyance.
Amber couldn't help but break into laughter, her amusement catching Octavia off guard. Octavia found herself smiling in response. Despite the hardships and adversities they had faced, the girl in front of her was just that—a girl who had endured her fair share of challenges.
"Wait, you mean there's three of us?" Amber feigned shock, playing along with the banter.
"Amber, shut up," Octavia ordered playfully, a hint of warmth in her tone. Amber's laughter continued, filling the air with a rare sense of lightness and camaraderie. Octavia couldn't help but join in, her smile widening.
John's voice echoed in Amber's mind once more, a reminder of the cautionary words that had been ingrained in her. "I don't really need friends," Amber insisted, her tone firm.
Octavia looked at her intently, her eyes filled with a mix of understanding and determination. "I think you do," she countered gently.
Amber shook her head, refusing to entertain the idea. "Well, I think I don't."
Octavia's voice softened as she pressed on. "So you're just going to hang around your brother for the rest of your life? That's kind of strange if you ask me."
"Says you, Blake," Amber retorted, using Octavia's last name in a playful yet defensive manner.
Octavia met her gaze unwaveringly. "Look, I think we can relate to each other in ways that others can't understand. We were never meant to make it out from under the floor, let alone survive the journey from space to the ground. We see things differently, and I know you know what I mean."
Amber sighed, realizing the truth in Octavia's words. "Despite us both growing up inside a storage closet, it's pretty clear we've had different upbringings." She gestured to herself, her disheveled appearance contrasting with Octavia's more put-together and composed demeanor.
"But we were meant to die without ever seeing the outside world," Octavia continued, her voice tinged with a mixture of hope and longing. "I know you want to see what the ground has to offer. Friends?"
Amber looked at Octavia, her expression unreadable. She remained silent for a moment, contemplating Octavia's words. Finally, she shrugged, a gesture that conveyed both indifference and a hint of curiosity. This girl is really impossible, Octavia thought, unable to decipher Amber's true intentions.
As they sat there, two girls who had defied their expected fates, the unspoken understanding between them grew stronger. Despite their differences and the scars of their pasts, they shared a common desire for exploration, for a chance to discover what lay beyond the confines of their previous lives. And in that fleeting moment, Amber couldn't deny the flicker of curiosity that burned within her, pulling her closer to Octavia and the possibility of a friendship that could defy the odds.
Amber took a deep breath, letting her guard down ever so slightly. "Maybe," she finally conceded, her voice tinged with a mix of caution and curiosity.
"I'll take that as a yes. I'm gonna pass out, goodnight, friend." Octavia grinned and shuffled over to the wall they sat at earlier. Amber then huddled in the dark corner, her back against the cold metal wall of the dropship. She wrapped her arms around her body, seeking some warmth and comfort in the absence of a jacket or any spare fabric. The chill of the night air seeped through her thin clothes, causing a shiver to run down her spine. She cast a glance towards the rest of the group, now settled in various corners of the wreckage, finding solace in the little comfort they could salvage.
Her gaze returned to Jasper, who lay still on the makeshift bed they had arranged for him. The dim light filtering through the cracks in the dropship cast eerie shadows across the scattered debris. Amber's mind wandered, replaying the events of the day and the encounters she had with Octavia and the others. She felt a mixture of hope and apprehension about this newfound friendship, unsure of what it would entail or how it would impact her own survival.
As the exhaustion weighed heavily on her, Amber closed her eyes, trying to find some respite from the harsh reality of their situation. Thoughts and questions swirled in her mind, but for now, she needed rest. With a weary sigh, she leaned her head back against the unforgiving wall, feeling the hardness press against her skull. Sleep slowly overcame her, offering a temporary escape from the challenges that awaited her on the ground.