Coralie Evans-Kane and Bellamy Blake. Iconic.
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"We're going to make it today, alright? We're going to make it no matter what happens. We've made it this far," he takes her hand into his own. "Promise me that you won't give up."
"Bell-"
"Promise m...
Disclaimer: I (sadly) don't own The 100, which was created by J*son Rothenberg. GOOD JOB, Kass Morgan. - - - -
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- 01 - - Psycho Killer Cell Mate -
Coralie Evans-Kane never understood why girls were allowed to share cells with members of the opposite sex. For all she knew, the guy across from her could be a sex offender, and she could be felt up in her sleep.
'Then again he's been really quiet and has kept to himself,' she thought. 'Must be a psycho - those are always the quiet ones. What if he's just a druggie? Or a murderer, or- the list could be endless.'
Nathan Miller sat across from her on his cot, his head buried in between his legs and his body shaking every few seconds or so.
He was just brought in by a guard, meaning he was Coralie's new roommate. Her last one had just been floated, being that they had turned eighteen the day before.
"Hey," Coralie calls to the boy, trying to get his attention. He didn't lift his head. "Hello?"
That got him.
His eyes lifted gradually and slowly, meeting contact with her own, give or take a few moments.
"I'm Coralie," she smiles, reaching forward as she held out her hand for him to shake. He eyes it skeptically and she let out a sigh. "What's your name?" She asks, pulling her limb back towards her body.
"Miller," he replies, his tone chipped. His legs moved from his chest as he brought them to the floor, sitting averagely now. "I know you," he began, and she rose an eyebrow. "You're Marcus Kane's sister."
"Adoptive," she waves her index finger at him. "But yeah." She then attempts to change the conversation. "What did you do to get put in here?"
"Stole," he answers curtly. "You?"
"Assaulted a guard," she shrugs, pushing her dark brown hair behind her shoulders. "I have about six to seven months left. You?"
"Four."
She frowns. That'd be the third roommate of hers to be floated before her.
"Oh..."
He avoids eye contact and scans the room, which was bland and small. Two cots with grey sheets, one white pillow for each and a thin set of wool blankets sit directly across from the other. Coralie sat farthest from the door while Miller was facing it. Chalked drawings decorated the walls, in retrospect to her last roommate, Teagan, who had a knack for art. Coralie had nothing but my clothes and herself, and that's all she'll have until she dies, and in the ark's terms, literally.
"How does this work?"
Coralie knew what he meant when he asked that. It's what Teagan had asked her when she arrived.
