❛ the ground. that's the dream. ❜
On the list 𝘓𝘺𝘳𝘢 𝘑𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘛𝘰𝘱 𝘛𝘦𝘯 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘖𝘧 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦, getting arrested is definitely up there. But, hey! At least there's a silver lining ━━ getting shoved into a drops...
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LYRA'S LUNGS BURN as they hurtle through the dark forest.
Blinding flames flash maniacally behind them, blurred in the chaos, a tremendous, unearthly tremor quaking straight through the ground. The force is sickening; Lyra can feel her heart in her stomach, thudding into her intestines over and over. Further and further they shoot through the darkness. It feels as if they're diving through the bleakest, blackest part of the cosmos, diving through the deepest depths of interstellar. And yet that's not so horrifying of a thought to Lyra, to drift forever among the stars.
Because fuck. She's never felt so. . . so alive.
Wind whips loose frizzes of chestnut across her face and she lets out a whoop, then another. Adrenaline cackles through her veins like a million bolts of electricity jolting straight through the Ark's live-wires. Clean, cold air chews away at the noxious fumes of war lingering in her lungs. A half-crazed giggle escapes her mouth and she can feel another and another bursting through her chest until she can't contain it anymore and she skids to a stop and she starts to laugh.
"That was crazy!" She can't contain her energy, drenched with adrenaline. "Oh my god - there were so many of them, and then we were running, and we won, oh my god - !"
Though he'd looked at her in disbelief at first, Bellamy's countenance softens into gentle amusement. "I know, but Lyra, we have to keep moving - "
His words fall upon deaf ears. Something pretty floats through the darkness. Glistening an enchanting cerulean, like a single star dancing through the shadows. It's strange to look at after all the carnage and Lyra tilts her head back in wonder as the word flutters to her lips a beat too late: Butterfly.
Before Bellamy can stop her, she's chasing after it.
Laughter like liquid starlight bounces through the shadows and reverberates through the night, almost luminescent as the silvery cosmos up above. Bounding through the darkness with unfettered joy, she keeps going, trailing after the butterfly as it flutters high above her head, just out of reach. Delight erupts within her.
And yet suddenly the butterfly stops forging forwards and instead drifts upwards. Coming to a messy halt, Lyra doesn't even have time to feel disappointment. Surrounding her is a galaxy of molten luminescence.
