Kings // c. griffin

Chapter Sixteen

Isaac's head whipped around to face her. "I was poisoned?" he gaped at her.

She shrugged, trying to make it seem not a big deal. "It was on the blade. We got the cure though, so you're good."

Isaac nodded, before turning to look at the grounder.  The grounder stared back at him, seeming somewhere between uneasy and almost concerned. Or maybe the crease between his brow was from pain, not worry. After all, he'd stabbed Isaac. Worry normally didn't come with that, not from the person who did it. Bending over, Isaac reached down to get something and suddenly Octavia felta clench in her stomach. "Isaac, I think he's already been through enough-"

Isaac straightened back up, a canteen of water in one hand and a rag in another. He turned to look at Octavia, a frown set on his face. He jerked his head towards the grounder and the giant of a man stirred in his chains. "Did you think I was going to... do that to him?" he asked. 

Octavia was silent, choosing to stay where she was as Isaac poured some water over the rag, stepping closer to the grounder. He reached up towards the mans face, gingerly wiping the blood away. Octavia watched him. She was taken aback by the gentleness, how he actually seemed to care. She licked her lips before stepping closer, watching as he cleaned the grounders face. "Why are you helping him?" she asked quietly. 

Isaac turned to look at her for a brief moment -only a second. He didn't answer for a bit, and Octavia began to think he was ignoring her when suddenly he drew in a quick breath. "He didn't mean to hurt me," he said finally, biting the inside of his cheek. "He wasn't aiming for me, but I jumped into the knife. And he could have killed you, but he didn't. He could have killed us easily, but he didn't. I don't think he wants to hurt us, so why should we hurt him? He didn't deserve what Bellamy gave him. I just think that maybe if we're kind to him he'll understand that we aren't barbarians. At least, most of us aren't."

Octavia gazed at Isaac for a second, her eyes wide. Her lips parted as she stared for a moment before finding her voice to speak. "You are..." she suddenly chuckled. "God, you're the nicest boy I've met so far and you like someone else. My luck, huh?"

Isaac smiled, ducking his head as he made to look at the ground. "Please," he laughed, biting down on his lip to contain the crazy grin, "I don't know the first thing about being in a relationship."

The brunette rolled her eyes at her friend. "No, I'm being serious. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You're just... you're so kind to everyone. Even when they don't deserve it."

Isaac licked his lips, which were beginning to dry. He looked back up from the floor towards the grounder, who was looking at him curiously. Like he knew what they were talking about. Isaac lifted his hand again and began to rub away the blood that had run down his neck, beginning to crust and dry along his collarbone. "Everyone deserves a second chance," he said. "God knows how many chances I've had."

"You know some people are just bad, right?" 

Isaac shook his head. "Nobody's born bad. It's what we go through that makes us who we are. Some people push through and get stronger, some people are weak and let their experiences mold them. It's the weak that are the bad, too. They let what happened to them affect them too much and it ruined them."

Octavia glanced at him. "So you don't think you're weak, then?"

Isaac shook his head. "I think I'm not pitifully so," he corrected her. "But I'm definitely not strong." 

The brunette snorted at the idea. "Well I think I might have to disagree with you there," she said. Isaac didn't answer; instead he nodded, ducking his head down to look at the grounder. He moved down to his chest, (which was very defined, might he add) stepping closer so he could concentrate.