。.・゜✭ ❝ they told me to pour my heart into everything i do. so that's what i did, i poured and poured and poured. now they ask me why i'm so empty. ❞
[ fem!oc + john murphy ]
[ the hundred seasons 2 - 3 ]
@clovdynova
2019
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN. memories from hell.
━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━
"You're not allowed to fall in love with me."
"Won't be a problem."
"And that's when they fell in love." Sage narrated. A grin stretched across her face as she watched the scene unfold. She hadn't left the couch in hours and had been watching her new television show religiously.
"Well obviously." Murphy chuckled. He strolled around the kitchen bench, a drink in each hand before joining the girl on the lounge.
"They're so cute Murphy. Look!" She announced excitedly.
"Not as cute as us though." He grinned, handing his girlfriend her drink.
"Thank you. And no, no one's as cute them," Sage corrected before collecting her campari spritz from his outstretched hand.
"Sure, whatever you say kiddo."
"Kiddo? When did we decide that nickname was suitable." Sage frowned.
"Because I'm older than you." He laughed to himself earning a pointed look from the girl.
"By what? A month?" She surmised.
"Six actually." He corrected, grinning to himself and then at the girl.
"You're so full of it." She chuckled.
"Yeah but you love me anyway." He smiled before changing positions on the couch so his head now lay in her lap, his stormy eyes peering up at her.
"That's debatable." She chuckled to herself causing the boy's eyes to roll.
"I like this episode." He announced softly, tilting his head to glance back at the screen. Sage followed his gaze before trailing back down to his lazy figure, all sprawled across her much smaller body.
His frame was surely withering and despite the indulgence of food and alcohol, Sage could see the frailty hiding within his bones. It was inevitable of course, but it didn't change the fact that she took pity on him. His skin was more tanned than usual but that was to be expected after spending so long in the desert. During their time in the bunker, Sage had seen more of the boy than ever, she was slowly picking up on additional habits and knew the boy like the back of her hand. She could name every shade of blue swimming in his eyes and knew how every scar on his body was given to him. All but this new one gracing the back of his neck.
"What's this?" She questioned softly, her finger tracing over the jagged line, marking his skin.
The boy tensed and Sage realised she had hit a soft spot, both figuratively and literally.
