in which a girl with a heavy burden tries to find her way through the trials and torments of the earth they've come home to.
OR
in which she must rebuild.
EMBERS
JOHN MURPHY
DEATHLIES 2016
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN T...
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T H I R T Y N I N E
"Murphy," Althea whispers ever so softly as if the crows has vacated and pure white doves taken their place and made themselves at home, weaving their feathers through her heart. She dabs the damp cloth across his forehead as he lies pale and deathly looking upon the make-shift hammock. She shifts slightly on her stool, careful not to press too hard on Murphy's battered face. "Murphy," She tries again.
"Yeah?" He manages to croak.
"I was going to ask if you wanted water, but it sounds like you do," She quips, grinning to herself as she hops off the stool to get a small cup of water. When she comes back, he's already looking at her and she thought it flattering, but he was frowning.
He'd seen the marks on her. The purple and the blue against the pale skin of her neck, running down and dipping beneath the material of her vest top to the unknown.
At first he hadn't thought it was anything. He just assumed it was from running from grounders, but now he could see them better as he hair was swooped behind her shoulders.
She practically jumps back onto her perch on the stool and moves to help Murphy to drink, but he pushes it away, frowning.
"Thea," He begins, sitting up slightly. "Did anything happen when I was gone?"
"No," She blatantly lies, not wanting to hurt him. Although, she had a gut feeling he already knew from the way he looked at her. She felt nothing but guilt. "No, nothing happened. Why do you ask?"
"Because the marks on your neck tell otherwise, sweetheart," He says, gesturing to her neck with what could only ever be described as hurt in his wonderful eyes.
Althea's head ducks in shame. "I didn't do it because I didn't care about you. I did it because I cared too much and that was utterly terrifying." Her fingers tap on the sides of the make-shift cup with no precise rhythm, just regret. When Murphy carries on looking at her, she continues in her efforts to make everything right again. "I care about you a lot, Murphy," She tells him with all the honesty in the world. "There wasn't a single day where I didn't think about you."
"I care about you a lot too, but you had sex with the guy who hung me and wants me dead," Murphy says and her heart deflates. "How can I trust you after that?"
"You can trust me," She tells him eagerly. She lifts one hand to brush her hair behind her ear and looks down at him, meeting his challenging eyes. "Trust me, John Murphy," She breathes and he watches the hope dancing across her eyes and into her smile.
"I want to but it's not as easy as that."
"I don't want you to hate me for my mistakes. This can't happen to me again." He watches her fingers tighten and her lips press thin. Murphy slides his hand over hers and her grip relaxes again. He takes the water from her, taking a long drink of it watching her as she thinks.
"I don't hate you," He says as she takes the water back, placing it on the side.
Althea's lip quivers into a smile for a split second before it drops back into the frown. It looked displaced on her face. Murphy takes her hand and she wraps her other over the top of his.
"I'm not going to let Bellamy kill you," Althea whispers, her eyes darting between his every feature as if she didn't quite trust her own word and that he was going to be ripped from her at any moment. "He won't do it."
"You'd have to be delusional to think he wouldn't." Murphy laughs, but Althea doesn't even smile.
"Don't think like that. It's not helpful," She scolds, running her thumb over the back of his hand. Looking down at his hands and seeing his fingernails ripped from his fingers made her stomach uneasy and her head spin. They'd tortured him and that was too barbaric to defend by the simple notion of 'it was their home'. It might be their home, but this was extreme. "Sorry," She murmurs.
"I would never have guessed that when I came back you'd be so much more... confident. It's a hell of a change, Thea," He tells her and a breath of a laugh escapes her, a smile emerges like a flower coming out to bloom. "You're even smiling now. What a change!"
And, in response, she giggles. She actually giggles and it's the most magical thing he's ever heard. It was sweet and delicate to the ears, drifting through the air as a secret delight. He wanted to hear it again and again until he ran out of ways to make the beautiful girl before him laugh. Even the corner's of her eyes creased as she'd giggled. It wasn't just her lips that laughed, it was her entire expression.
In that moment, she was transformed and she hadn't felt that alive, that human, in years.
