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Summary
A hush sweeps through the room, and in the sudden stillness Bellamy finds himself sure this whole situation has stolen the last of his sanity. But then the noise picks up again, just one word, a name, repeated over and over again and washing like a wave through the crowd until it has grown from whisper to chant. Clarke…Clarke…Clarke!
When she steps out of the parting crowd and up onto the dais, wearing a simple blue tunic and dark leggings tucked into those same worn boots, her golden hair braided round her head like a crown, the world spins and Bellamy’s own voice joins the masses on an exhale. “Clarke.”
Series
- Part 1 of The Seasons of Us