𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑, bellamy blake ²

11; child of the night

"Our lips were for each other and our eyes were full of dreams. We knew nothing of travel and we knew nothing of loss. Ours was a world of eternal spring, until the summer came."

― Roman Payne, Hope and Despair

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THE DANCE WAS IN FULL SWING. Naomi had a silk dress wrapped around her—only the best for the daughter of a council member—emerald and flowing down her thighs. Her hair was parted in delicate twirls over her shoulder. Silver glimmered in her hair.

Naomi clasped her hand around her sisters, the younger girl watching through her mask with fearful eyes. Colours danced overhead.

"You can mingle," Naomi told her. "It's okay." Her younger sister squeezed her hand, smiling. She readjusted the butterfly mask over her features before her fingers slipped from Naomi's and she disappeared into the crowd. Naomi watched her leave with a familiar sense of dread in her chest.

She pulled her black owl mask over her eyes, turning back to the crowd. Bellamy was somewhere among them, and Naomi could see Clarke and Wells conversing in the corner.

Someone pressed a hand to her arm. She turned to find Octavia, grinning widely at her. The girl was wearing a plain dress, with a blue mask over her eyes and her hair tied up. She was wringing her hands together.

Naomi touched her arm. "Hey, O. How's it going? You having fun?"

Octavia nodded eagerly, a grin on her face. She bounced on the balls of her feet. "It's so great! There are so many people. And we can see the moon from here. Maybe we'll even get to see it rise! I've never seen that before." She was beaming with excitement.

Noe gripped the other girl's hands. "I'd love that. And Char too, she's never seen it either. We can watch it before the dance finishes." She smiled at Octavia and pressed her mask further down her nose. Naomi looked around. "Have you made any friends yet?"

"Well, no," Octavia confessed. "I can't exactly introduce myself to anyone." Her eyebrows were furrowed.

"Ah, bullshit. Talk to someone, improvise. Just tell them your name is O, and if they ask for what it's short for, tell them Olivia and some shit about how you hate that name. Then you'll just be known as O. You don't have to spend a lot of time with people. They won't ever see you again."

"I'm not very good at improvising."

Naomi raised her eyebrows. "Well, I am." She scanned her eyes over the crowd. "Let's see... who do you want to talk to?" Her eyes landed to a boy dancing with his friends. He wore large goggles over his eyes, messy hair splayed over his forehead. She knew him from Farm Station. Naomi gestured to him. "Look, that guy's cute. Um... Jasper... something? He's nice. Go talk to him."

She gave Octavia a shove, who stumbled and then clung to Naomi's arm. "No! I'm not talking to him!"

"What? You're too scared to talk to boys?" Naomi teased. Octavia gave her a playful glare. "You are!" she exclaimed in laughter. "You're going to have to learn to talk to boys at some point."

Octavia's face fell. "No I'm not," she said sadly. "I'm never going to have anyone to settle down with."

Naomi's mouth snapped open to say something, and then fell closed again.