promise ; b blake ii

chapter 8

Every day, every few hours, they'd take one of us.

Every day, I stuck my chin up and stood towards the front, daring them to even lay a hand on me.

Their eyes would skim over me, making eye contact for way longer than necessary. My heart rate would incline and I would be terrified, but I never moved a muscle while they stared at me.

Me is better than any of them. That's what I would tell myself.

"I have to go in the vents," I told them, gesturing towards the vents. "We can't keep going on like this. I'll find Brook and Maya, and I'll find out what's going on and then come back."

"They'll notice you're gone, the way you've been practically eye-killing her every day," Miller grumbled.

I shrugged. "Then they'll come after me. It'll buy you guys some time." When someone went to object again, I cut them off. "Please," I said, my voice almost breaking. "If B-B—" I almost whimpered when I tried to say it. "If he's here, I need to see him. I'll be quick. I don't have my sling anymore."

They all thought about it. "Yeah, no," Miller said.

"I agree with Miller."

"Come on!"

"Nope."

"I'm gonna go anyways."

"Carson, don't you dare—"

"Carson, get your ass down here!"

"Close the door behind me!"

"Don't die!"

Then, I was off.

I went to the quarters where people's homes were, I went to the art warehouse, I went to quarantine. I couldn't find Bellamy or a sign of the ones who were taken.

Then, I could've swore I heard someone else in the vents with me.

I froze.

I didn't make a single movement as I heard a voice coming towards me, the shuffling against the metal walls also evident. I squeezed my eyes shut and silently prayed for my life.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit—"

"Is someone else in here?"

My eyes shot open the size of saucers.

"Bellamy?"

"Carson?"

As I crawled towards the voice, I said out loud, "I'm going crazy, oh my god. I'm hearing Bellamy's voice in the ventilation system! Ha! I'm actually going craz—"

Holy shit.

My whole expression softened. "Oh my god," I whispered, my eyes not moving from his face.

Bellamy lay in the small area, on his elbows, his face a bit bruised and bloody. He wore a tan Mount Weather uniform and held a walkie in his hand, the voice saying, "Bellamy?"

"Hold on," he said into the walkie.

I couldn't control my lip quivering as I stared at his face.

I lifted my hand and slapped him across the face, then backhanded him.

He remained there, and I could easily tell I felt his face against my hand.

Sobs then wracked my body as I leaned my forehead against his, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "You're okay," I sobbed pathetically.

He tilted my chin and kissed my lips sweetly.

I missed that so damn much.

A few more tears streamed down my face as my eyes closed, my body calming down, melting into him. When we finally disconnected our lips, my eyes fluttered open and looked into his eyes. "I like the dress," he smirked, his eyes showing nothing but softness as he looked at me.