FROZEN STARS FIFTEEN ❝ well, maybe it's me and my blind optimism to blame. ❞
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ONLY TWO people had ever used the nickname 'Mar' to refer to Marley Munroe; the first had been her grandmother, Cassandra, who'd affectionately use it whenever she woke her granddaughter or when she was handing down advice. The second had been Tate. Of course, Marley hadn't always regarded Tate in the same way she did now, with the same anger and ruefully bitter regret. When she was fifteen, she'd fallen for his charms, brown curls, blue eyes and all, and - as she had come to reluctantly believe - he'd inevitably broken her and her heart.
From then on, the nickname had been something so overwhelmingly negative that a sickness bubbled in the pit of Marley's stomach whenever anyone referred to her by it. Something which her grandmother - the one person she loved the most in the world, the woman who taught her to be kind, who made her who she used to be - had used to refer to her had been distorted into something ugly and nauseating.
Often, when she was alone in her room, she'd reminisce about what her life had once been and the love her grandmother had once shown her. But the memories were tainted by the nickname she had once held so dear, the nickname that signalled danger in her mind, the alarms blaring as the word befell her ears, scattering her mind with thoughts of a girl lost and broken.
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"OCTAVIA'S MISSING."
"What do you mean she's missing?" Bellamy questioned. His eyes had grown wilder and it was obvious he was trying to control the mixture of fear and anger that was pushing it's way up from his chest - he was doing a good job of keeping a straight face, mostly, but the corner of his mouth was twisting downwards and his eyebrows had begun to furrow.
"Well," Marley gulped nervously, her eyes falling to her boots. Suddenly, the scuff mark on the left side of her right shoe seemed extremely interesting. "After she ran away in the forest, she, um, she didn't come back to camp. So, me and Elijah were on our way to look for her when you came back."
Bellamy's face was unreadable. All he did was stride off in the opposite direction. The crowd around them had begun to disperse; most were heading towards their tents or were already huddled under the materials they used for blankets. He'd grabbed a thick piece of firewood and dipped it into the fire - it was now set ablaze, lighting his way through camp.
"Bellamy-" She called as she followed him in a half-jog, trying to stay within the light that was illuminating his way through camp.
"Did you see which way she went?" He questioned. He didn't even turn to look at Marley, just carried on striding with purpose towards the tents at the edge of camp.
