SOLDIER; the 100 (1)

1.28

Chapter twenty-eight:
Twilight's Last Gleaming
(Part 3)

WADING through the stream, Vivienne's boots quickly filled with water, the cold seeping through the worn leather and soaking her socks. She grimaced at the discomfort, rolling her eyes and muttering profanities as the wet fabric clung to her skin.

Bellamy had admitted to tossing the radio into the river, watching it disappear downstream. Now, everyone they could spare from camp was scouring the area, searching for the lost device.

Raven, amused by Vivienne's scowls, finally broke the silence. "I'm guessing Bellamy Blake isn't your best friend?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity, remembering their altercation earlier.

Vivienne glanced up, narrowing her eyes before letting out a scoff, her attention quickly returning to the water. She didn't bother with a response. Raven raised an eyebrow, exhaling lightly. "Not much for conversation, are you?" she prodded.

"Not if Bellamy's the topic," Vivienne replied curtly, keeping her gaze fixed on the stream.

Raven nodded, her eyes scanning Vivienne thoughtfully. "Got it. No boy talk," she attempted to lighten the mood, a small smile playing on her lips. Vivienne noticed it out of the corner of her eye but kept her gaze fixed on the water.

A silence settled between them, one that had once felt comfortable but now, to Vivienne, felt heavier, almost expectant. Feeling the need to break it, she finally spoke up. "You said you rebuilt that hunk of junk," she began, her voice slicing through the stillness. The words caught Raven off guard,making her look up.

"That's impressive," Vivienne added, her tone genuine.

"It was nothing a bit of love and care couldn't fix," Raven replied with a casual shrug, though a hint of pride lingered in her tone. Her dark eyes drifted toward Finn, softening with an undeniable admiration as a small, wistful smile played on her lips.

Vivienne studied the look in Raven's eyes as she watched Finn go about the most mundane task—it was unmistakably love. A sharp pang hit Vivienne's chest, and she quickly looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. The longing in Raven's gaze was all too familiar, and in that moment, Finn became a painful reminder of someone who was probably dead already, someone she could never have.

"Hey, I found it!" a boy named Jones shouted, holding up the waterlogged radio. Vivienne and Raven rushed over, meeting Clarke at Jones' side, while Bellamy sauntered over, having been little help in the search.

Raven's face twisted into a scowl as she examined the radio, pulling out bits of debris lodged in the cracks. "Can you fix it?" Clarke asked, her voice tinged with concern. Raven's expression was grim, clearly not holding out much hope.

"Maybe," Raven said, her tone noncommittal as she inspected the wiring inside the radio. "But it'll take half a day just to dry out the components to see what's broken."

"Like I said," Bellamy said, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his voice flat. "It's too late."

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Clarke snapped, her voice rising as she rounded on Bellamy. Vivienne watched with a hint of amusement tugging at her lips. "Do you even care?" Clarke demanded, her frustration heavy.

"You asked for my help. I helped," Bellamy replied, unfazed as Clarke stepped closer, almost pressing her chest to his. He didn't so much as flinch.

Vivienne's expression hardened, her face twisting with anger as she planted her hands firmly on her hips. "You sat on your ass, Bellamy!" she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. Her eyes bore into him, dark and threatening. "Three hundred people are going to die because of you!"

"Hold up," Raven suddenly interjected, resting a hand lightly on Vivienne's shoulder. Vivienne shook it off, stepping back from the group. "We don't need to talk to the Ark," Raven continued, her eyes scanning the group as she thought aloud. "We just need to let them know we're down here, right?"

"Yeah," Finn agreed, his wide brown eyes filled with concern. "But how are we supposed to do that without a radio?"

•••

WITH aching arms and a heavy heart, Vivienne stood among the camp in the dead of night, her gaze fixed on the sky as the flares they'd painstakingly crafted shot into the air. Beside her, Clarke watched in silence, noticing how Vivienne's lips trembled with every breath she took.

"It's going to work," Clarke murmured, her voice steady as she tried to reassure them both. Vivienne glanced at her before they both turned back to the dark sky. "It has to," Clarke added, more to herself than anyone else.

Quietly, Bellamy approached the two blondes from behind, taking his place beside Clarke, though his gaze lingered on Vivienne. He couldn't help but notice sorrowful glimmer that had dulled her eyes ever since Charlotte's death. Each time Bellamy looked at Vivienne, the memory of her desperate cries for Charlotte and the fury in her voice when she had shattered his nose echoed in his thoughts.

And now, here he was, hoping with every last ounce of his soul that the flares would work. Bellamy Blake couldn't bear the thought of more blood on his hands, especially not like this.

"Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?" Clarke broke the silence, not speaking to either one in particular.

Shrugging, Bellamy kept his gaze fixed on the purple flames climbing into the sky. "I wouldn't even know what to wish for," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Vivienne hummed softly. "I do," she muttered, her voice void of any emotion. Glancing her way once more, Bellamy's eyes glossed over and ,although she felt his stare on her every time, Vivienne couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. 

It was easy to be angry with him, but this moment felt too vulnerable. Vivienne's wall was too weak as she prayed the flares would work, she couldn't muster an ounce of anger towards the boy.

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