Saviors ; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥

118. ꕥ Gunners, Runners, And Burners

"You're okay. You're okay." Harper stood behind me, pulling back loose strands of hair that fell around my face. My knees were tucked under my body, pressing against the bathroom floor, my face hovering over the toilet after the contents of last night's meal left my system. Gasps escaped my mouth, expecting another wave of what felt like fire to come out, but much to my pleasure, none did, at least for now. "I got you."

Once Harper had all of my hair in one hand, holding it back in a ponytail, she used her free one to begin rubbing small circles on my back as a form of comfort. And it was working, my breathing was slowing, and the gasps turned into slower, deep breaths, allowing me to inhale more oxygen. My hands, previously wrapped around the base of the toilet, having been looking for any support, moved to the actual seat part. Ignoring how gross this was, I rested my forearms against the seat while my neck craned side to side, deep breaths continuing to leave my chapped lips.

It was the morning after I helped Monty reveal Clarke's list to the people of Arkadia, telling them the truth about their survival. That situation had gone to the back of my mind last night as I waited for Bellamy to return. Last night I had sat cross-legged on our bed facing the door waiting for him to come through. Time felt slower as I waited for him because, with each minute without him pulling the door open, the fear that something had happened to him grew. I knew I shouldn't be worried — hunting parties go radio silent all the time — but I couldn't help this feeling in the pit of my stomach grow throughout the night.

Eventually, after waiting for as long as my body would allow, I submitted to the rest it was desperately asking for until I had woken up this morning feeling bile in my throat and successfully making it to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach came out. On the bathroom floor, unpleasantly hurling, was where I spent the next couple of hours with Harper, having found me not long ago.

Coughs scratched against my throat, making it grow even more irritated as I attempted to stand up. Harper came quickly to my aid, grasping my arms with her hands stabilizing me. My voice was hoarse, barely coming out audible, as I choked out, "I need to go."

"Hey, no." Harper was instantly in front of me, hands now on either of my arms. She looked at me with concern while saying, "Jo, you just can't get up and walk around."

I knew that Harper's statement was purely rhetorical, but that didn't stop me from looking at her with an annoyed expression. "Yes. I can."

Sidestepping Harper, I stumbled to the sink, placing my hands on either side of it. My breathing was more controlled now while I reached forward, turned the cold faucet clockwise, and put my hands under the slow-moving stream. I cupped my hands, collecting cool water in them before bringing it up to my forehead and letting it run down my face, disregarding the drops that fell on my shirt. I looked at the faded mirror, rubbing my damp hands down my face, only to be met with the reflection of Harper, who stood with her arms crossed.

"Still wanna tell me you can get around just fine?" She remarked with an incredulous voice.

"I can get around just fine." I mumbled, turning to face her; I gave the blond an agitated look despite knowing that Harper's only intention was to help. "Look, Harper, Bellamy is still out there, and if you think I'm just gonna sit around in this room all day, then you're nuts."

"I know you wanna be there when he gets back, but acting like you're fine and walking out into the open is not gonna bring Bellamy back any sooner."

"Walking out in the open doesn't matter." I snapped, knowing that this wasn't Harper's main point of her contention, but I couldn't help the bitter words leave my mouth; the thoughts had been in my head all night. "Everybody already knows, Harper. I failed at keeping my secret."