SAVIOUR, BELLAMY BLAKE ( 1 )

THREE

Grace turns back around to see Miller staring at her open sketchbook with a sad smile. "It's really good," Miller clears his throat as his voice cracks. Grace's heart breaks for the boy. She wasn't the only one who had lost him. "Um, yeah. Really good."

Grace steps towards the boy, sighing as she does. "Thank you," she takes the notebook in her hands, beginning to trace the side of his face. "It's weird, I know. It just— it just helps me cope, I guess. I miss him. I miss him so damn much it hurts."

Grace's watery eyes meet Miller's. He nods his head. "Yeah. I get it."

Grace sniffles, wiping at her eyes slightly. She almost forgot that Miller had also lost his boyfriend— not that Bellamy was Grace's boyfriend, but he was something special to her, something she didn't understand but felt in her bones. Grace grabs Miller's hand and sends him a soft smile. "Let me take you to breakfast. I'll bring my sketchbook. You can tell me what he looks like, anything you can remember. I can't guarantee anything, but I will try my best."

Miller sends her a small smile. "Yeah, okay. I'd like that."

"Great," Grace smiles. "Let's go then."

The sound of an alarm blaring stops them in their tracks. They both wait for a moment, then watch as Clarke, Jasper, and Maya all rush out of the room. Miller's brows furrow. "You going to follow them?"

Grace shakes her head. "No, I'm sure they have it covered. Let's go."

✦

"Oh, and he has this adorable button nose! Did I already say that? I feel like I already said that."

Grace grins at the boy in front of her, enjoying how he talked eagerly about his boyfriend. The wide smile on his face as his hands moved around in excitement. "No, Miller. You didn't already say that," Grace muses, knowing full well that that was probably the tenth time he's told her since they arrived at the mess hall an hour ago. They had finished eating almost forty minutes ago, but never made any move to leave.

Her constant drawing stops suddenly, her green eyes moving up to meet his confused ones. "What? Not enough description?"

"Definitely not that," Grace grins, laughing as he leans forward and smacked her arm. "Kidding, kidding! Mostly," she mutters the last part and he smacks her again. "Alright, alright. I got an injured arm here, Miller. Chill."

"Yeah, whatever," Miller rolls his eyes playfully, but his eyes soon land on the back of the sketchbook. "Did you finish?"

"Yeah," Grace nods her head, handing him the book. She watches as his happy face falters and he lifts a hand to touch the page. Worry surges through her. "I'm sorry. I tried my best—"

"It's perfect," Miller mumbles, the corners of his lips lifting up. He raises his eyes up to meet the girls relieved ones. "Thank you."

Grace takes the book from him, ripping it out before he could stop her. She hands it to him, making sure not to crumple it. "Here," he sends her an incredulous look. "Seriously, take it. I can always make another one."

Miller nods. "Thanks."

"Of course," Grace grins.

"Is this the famous Miller?" A semi-familiar voice comes from behind Grace and she turns around, raising a brow. Isaac walked around her to stand next to Miller, holding out a hand to the confused boy. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm Isaac."

"Hi." Miller sends Grace a befuddled look as he shook his hand. Grace laughs lightly at her best friend.

"Everyone's been talking about you since Maya told us you were here but we weren't allowed in to see you," Grace explains. Miller nods his head, his hand dropping onto the table beside his drawing.