Book Four in the Tugsten Series.
Ranking
🥇 in theark 17/02/2020
🥇 in bellamy 20/05/2021
🥈 in sanctum 05/05/2020
#24 in bellamyblake 2/11/2019
#8 in engineering 02/02/2020
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"I have a basic understanding. I know what it is and it's a relation to string theory, special relativity, and quantum logic but not much beyond that."
"I think you and I have different definitions of 'basic understanding'"
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"Do you remember when we use to talk about sunrises?" Miller wonders airily as we sit atop the stairs of the palace. Our feet dangling over the edge we sit on, Miller softly adds "What it would feel like when we finally got to see one again?"
Humming, I watch the sunrise over Sanctum. Painting the city in beautiful ambers and golds. "How could I forget? You made me create a sunrise simulator."
A grin spreads over Miller's lips, "Jax got so mad we were using a blow torch for such a minuscule reason."
Laughing at the memory, I remind him "In his defense we did light a dorm bed on fire."
We share a few more laughs before quiet falls back over us. Silently we wait for our people to return from the transport that landed not long ago. Soaking in the sun rising on yet another new tomorrow for us. The conclusion of yet another fight for our survival. A fight I'm exhausted having. "How can you forgive her?" Furrowing my eyebrows I spare a quiet glance towards Miller. His brows pinched, Miller reluctantly shakes his head. Thumb pressed into the palm of his hand. "All the horrible things we did in that bunker- what we did under her rule to survive- how can you just forgive her?"
"Because I love her", I answer Miller without a fault. Noticing Miller's pinched expression deepen, I tell him "Not Bloodreina. I love Octavia. She became what we needed down there to survive and just got lost under it all. As lost as we were when they broke the bunker open." As he continues to stare at me, I meekly shrug and drop my gaze "I feel disgusting. Like my minds soaked in so much gore that I don't care about death anymore. I still wake up in cold sweats crying over what we've done. The guilt stills corrodes. I just decided to blame myself instead of her."
After another quiet moment, Miller admits lowly "I hate myself for what I did." Shaking his head Miller fiddles with his fingers, a nervous habit we both share "We told ourselves the ends justified the means... but now... all I feel is sick at the thought." Peering over to me, Miller asks "Don't you?"
