✯ | chapter twenty seven

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THE ARMY STOPPED when they reached Mount Weather, awaiting further instructions. Leila, upon their arrival, had stared up at the mountain longingly, until Clarke had snapped her out of it and dragged her to Lexa's war tent. The thought of being so close to seeing Bellamy again sent a strong ache through Leila's chest, an ache she was yet to be rid of, though she feared the feeling would not pass until she could see Bellamy with her own eyes.

"What if we're wrong and cutting the power doesn't disengage the locks?" Clarke asked curiously.

Lexa, who was sitting behind Clarke, sprawled out lazily, closed her eyes in annoyance. "Your people said it will. You should rest, Clarke."

Clarke wasn't in the mood to rest, a look of realisation passing over her face. "We could blow the doors manually."

Lexa stood and walked over to Clarke. "Plans don't last very long in battle. Tiring yourself with questions already asked and answered is a waste of energy."

"People died for this, Lexa," Leila said stubbornly. "It has to work."

"You're both doing what I did when i first took command," Lexa stated. "We can't move forward and it's giving you too much time to think. Once Bellamy shuts down the acid fog and the battle begins, everything will be clear."

"What if he can't?" Clarke asked. "What if it was too dangerous and I sent him in there anyway?"

"You care about him," Lexa said in a tone that suggested she already knew the answer.

"I care about all of them," Clarke replied.

Leila raised an eyebrow, muttering under her breath. "I care about Bellamy. He is my boyfriend, after all."

"Yet you worry about him more," Lexa said in an accusing tone.

"We couldn't have kept us alive all this time without him," Clarke argued. "We need him. And now I might be the one who gets him killed."

"That's what it means to be a leader, Clarke," Lexa replied, stepping towards Clarke.

Leila shook her head. "I can't be in here. I need some air."

Walking out of the tent, Leila ripped the fabric aside and marched into the fresh air, taking a deep breath to compose herself. She was sick of everyone suggesting that Bellamy was going to die; even their words sent pangs of worry through her chest, as if every mention of the man she loved leaving her was like an arrow to the chest.

Spotting Octavia sitting by herself beside a fire, Leila made her way over to her.

It was amazing how much Octavia had changed within a few days, going from the innocent girl who played with butterflies to the badass warrior she was born to be. She looked the part completely, eyes heavily outlined in Grounder warpaint with her hair done in braids, seemingly part of the Grounder custom.

Sitting on the log opposite her, Leila blew out a harsh breath of air. "I'm so sick of everyone saying that Bellamy's gonna die. He's not, okay? He's just– everything okay?"

Octavia was staring blankly into the fire, as if she was thinking to herself. Without looking at Leila, she took a breath. "I'm going over it and over it in me head, just trying to figure out how you and Clarke are still alive."

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