IN MY HEAD¹ ━━ Bellamy Blake

𝐗𝐈𝐗. Cloudy With a Chance of Death

"Right," says Lyra. "Um, OK."

     Lyra feels like an absolute mess. Unsure of how much longer she can stand there before she breaks down (seconds, probably) she gives Raven a shaky nod before brushing past the canvas and back into the open air. The camp is unusually quiet. Kids walk back and forth somberly, shoulders shrugged over, heads hanging low. Like phantoms in the silver mist spiraling across the earth.

     Monty ambles towards her, shaking his dark hair from his eyes.

     "Are you OK?"

      The child grimaces, all bleak eyes and hollow cheeks. "Yeah."

     "I'm sorry about your dad."

     He offers her a melancholy smile of comfort, but Lyra cannot bring herself to smile in return. She's burning in the cold, charred remnants of a universe fizzling out, and can only observe him with eyes like tombstones. She appreciates his presence. Of course she does. But his words are hollow, the empathy fragile and plastic to her ears. Because what do you say to a girl who's lost the last of her family, who watched her dad fall from the sky in a spacecraft ten-thousand stars away?

     There are no words at all.

     "Yeah." She's dizzy with exhaustion. "I need to get some sleep."

     "Wait!" He grabs her by the sleeve of her jacket. "Jasper's a folk-hero now, and they even gave us a bigger tent. You can sleep in there."

     "I — "

      "Come on." The smile he gives her is so genuine that she feels her resolve start to fizzle out. "We even have extra blankets now. And... and I don't think you should be alone right now."

Her voice trembles, clogged with gratitude. "OK."

̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ 　　.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

    

          DREAMS EVADE Lyra Jupiter's grasp.

     Perhaps it's for the better. Lyra cannot imagine what sort of darkness would bleed into her thoughts after the mind-numbing horrors of the past day. The shadows around her are suffocating as she twists and turns, drenched in sweat. Somewhere, a small corner of the universe weeps.

     A long, long while later, the tent unzips.

     She groggily hauls herself into a sitting position at the edge of the cot. Body aching, she huddles the tangerine blanket closer to her skin as she sucks in slow, easy breaths.

     Monty pops his head inside. "Oh, thank God. Dude, you've been asleep for, like, ever. We all thought you were dead after you slept through the gunshots last night."

     "Gunshots?" Lyra shoots up in alarm.

     "Yeah. Wells went to wake you up when they got back from the crash site last night, but Bellamy pretty much ordered everyone to stay away from you or face his wrath. Octavia was sorta pissed, but Bellamy said you needed sleep."

     "Can we go back to the whole gunshots thing?" She asks.

     "Sure. You missed a lot while you were out, actually, you'll never believe what happened — " voices from outside the tent become clearer and Monty's mouth snaps shut in alarm. "Quick, get under the blanket and pretend you're asleep!"