TW// Alcohol, mentions of addiction, su**ide attempt, blood
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Everything seems strangely quiet now.
I sit opposite Jasper, watching as he tries to pry off the broken handcuffs that now sit like bracelets around his wrists. In my hands I nurse a wooden cup of wine from the bottle that Niylah left out for us.
It's by far the best alcohol I've ever tasted in my life. Unlike the moonshine I've become so accustomed to drinking, it's sweet and rich and full of flavours I don't think I've ever tried before. I didn't bother to count my intake but between Jasper and I, the bottle is already half-empty.
Draining the last dregs from the cup, I reach for the bottle again as if on instinct. It's taken out of my reach before I can touch it. I frown up at Bellamy but don't say anything. I simply watch as he walks away and sets it on another table several feet away.
'You two okay with her coming back after all this time, taking over?' Jasper finally asks. Normally, people speak to ease the tension in a room. He seems to have forgotten how to do that.
Bellamy shrugs as he makes his way back over to us. 'She's trying to save Raven.'
'Guess she thinks Raven's worth saving. Lucky for her.'
Something seeps into Bellamy's eyes. He looks so guilty, so full of self-hatred. Swallowing thickly, he takes a step back. 'Get yourself together, Jasper. You can't let your anger get in the way of what we have to do here.'
Jasper scoffs, 'You know, that's funny coming from you. When you're angry, people die. Just ask that girl over there.'
He points to Niylah before stalking away. The woman seems to be oblivious, having just come into the room. She takes the half-empty bottle from the table, relights one of the candles, and leaves. Clarke had explained it to us, how her father had been in the peacekeeping army. Niylah has no clue that she's hosting his potential killer.
The chair that Jasper once occupied creaks as Bellamy sits down. I don't look up. After a long silence, I find myself feeling thirsty again. I reach across the table for Jasper's untouched cup. A hand comes down on top of my own, stopping me from picking up the drink.
He withdraws when I shoot him a cold scowl. I return to my whittling.
A bitter chuckle rises from my throat a couple of minutes later. Feeling him stare at me in confusion, I shake my head. I fail to stifle another laugh and set the knife down on the table with a loud clatter.
'Y'know,' I begin to say between scornful snickers, 'I knew this guy once. God, I thought the world of him. Didn't want to admit it, of course. You know how it is. You get stubborn, you pretend not to care... the usual crap.'
When I raise my head to look at him, he's watching me with that same guilt in his eyes, like it hurts just to lay eyes on me. He doesn't speak. I continue.
'One time, when I was really starting to hate myself, he said something to me. You know what he said?'
Bellamy shakes his head.
'He said, "We all do bad things. Those bad things are either part of our nature, or what we do to survive. And we'll keep doing bad things and we'll keep making mistakes because it's who we are."'
I chuckle again, but this time there is no smile to make it feel easier. '"Either you can accept that those bad things and those mistakes make you human, and you can learn from them... or you can let them overcome you until bad is all that's left. It's then, and only then, that you come close to being a monster."'
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When Songbirds Fly | Bellamy Blake
Fanfiction97 years ago, the world ended. It didn't get better after that. There was no rainbow, no olive branch. The flood of destruction would not simply evaporate once all the sinners had been purged. There was only death. When a new hope came, the first we...