"You are damaged and broken and unhinged.
But so are the shooting stars and the comets."
( the 100 ) ( season 1 ) ( book 1 of the hazel hudson series )
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
Thursday October 1st, 2148. 1 Year Ago. The Ark.
BY NIGHTFALL, the Ark's redistribution centre was usually dead, and Hazel Hudson was stuck working the late shift. She sat with her feet up on the counter, and a book open on her lap. Meticulously, her eyes skimmed over the words while her brain flickered, trying to decode the old language the text was in.
At the sound of the door across the room creaking open, Hazel snapped her book shut and repositioned herself into a more respectable position. Her forehead creased in worry when she noticed the young man entering the room was clad in a guard's uniform.
Being a miscreant had definitely taken its toll on the girl. Any form of authority sent a shock of fear crawling through her veins.
Have they figured me out? Is today the day I'll be locked up?
As he came closer, Hazel's initial worry subsided. She recognized the guard, his quarters were just around the corner from her's. He was a familiar face that she felt safe around.
"I'm here to make a trade, Hudson."
Hazel tried not to let her relief show as the guard untucked a ragged book from underneath his arm, holding it out towards her. She raised an eyebrow and snatched it from his hands, examining its worth.
The cover was faded, and the spine was coming lose as well. With amusement dancing in her eyes, Hazel flipped through it, noticing several stains and blotchy areas decorating the worn-out pages.
"You really like this book, don't you?"
The young man shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, "I guess."
"Well, it's a good one," Hazel placed it down, "what are you looking to trade it for?"
He shifted awkwardly, resting the palms of his hands on the counter. After exerting a small huff he licked his lips and sighed, "A mask, I want to trade it for a mask."
"Like a mask for the masquerade dance this weekend? You don't strike me as the dancer type, Blake."
Hazel raised her eyebrows, watching as a deep red embarrassment began to appear on Bellamy's cheeks. He looked down at the ground, his thick brown hair shifting in waves as he shook his head.
"It's not for me, okay, it's for...someone else."
"Yeah yeah, whatever you say ballerina boy. Let me see what I can find."
She ducked through the door behind her and into the storage unit, a giggle still perched on the tip of her tongue. Successfully she managed to suppress it, knowing full well he could probably still hear her from where he was standing outside.
