fourteen | she wasn't alone

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It's been a day since Octavia left. I don't know if she's coming back, but I regret everything I did to that Grounder. He wasn't worth hurting if I lose Octavia.

It worries me that she likes a Grounder. Octavia has been so reckless since we had gotten to the ground, because she had never gotten the chance to be before. I understand it, but I don't want her to get hurt.

I didn't sleep the whole night, and since then, I haven't left my tent, or talked to anyone. I want Clarke to come in, for her to sit on my bed, and for us to talk it out. But things aren't like that for us. I'm alone.

Just as I'm thinking that, Clarke opens my tent. "Octavia's back," she says to me with a smile. I run out of the tent and to the gate, where my sister is.

I embrace her in a hug, and she doesn't hug me back.

"Bellamy, don't," she says.

I'm surprised. "You freed the Grounder, I'm the one who should be mad," I say defensively, pulling away from the hug.

"His name is Lincoln," she tells me, agressively pushing past me.

"I don't care what his name is," I say, following her. "What were you thinking, freeing him? He's going to bring back an army."

"Lincoln wouldn't do that," she says, as she continues to walk.

"Why did you free him?" I shout.

"You know what, I'm not the only one who thought it was a bad idea to keep him. I wasn't-" she starts, but then cuts herself off.

"What, you weren't what?" I ask.

She's silent.

"Octavia!" I yell.

Clarke appears next to her. "She wasn't alone."

I look at Clarke, hoping that doesn't mean what I think it does.

"I sent you away on purpose," Clarke says, and my ears starting ringing. I can't believe this. "It would only hurt us to have a Grounder here, Bellamy. They were going to come for him, and he wasn't going to answer any questions."

"I'm not talking to you," I say, turning around and walking back to my tent.

"Bellamy," she begs, following me. "Be reasonable. It was the only way. I did the right thing."

I stop in my tracks. "You said I could trust you," I say, not having the courage to look at her face.


"How can I when you don't trust me?" I ask coldly.

"I do, I do trust you, it's just-"

"You went behind my back," I say, reaching my tent. "You don't trust me."

complicated | bellarkeWhere stories live. Discover now