(When Octavia says '
on a cold winter evening, Clarke knows she needs to get out of town- immediately.
She knows what the concequences are for her, and Octavia, so she pushes her sun blond hair away from her eyes while they watch the star slowly dip behind the trees and she swallows, '
' she mutters and the brunette shrugs, '
So Clarke nods, accepting her friend's decision, and under the cover of night, packs a bag and vanishes into the woods, running as fast as her body takes her.
She wishes she could have said goodbye to him, she wishes they could have been together- the world just wasn't ready for them yet.
She stands on the edge of a high cliff with the wind streaming through her hair and voices screaming in her head that she's a
. She's annoyed alcohol doesn't affect her.
She wants her memories to twist into a haze of drunken incompetence as she stumbles down the street, singing at the top of her voice to some crappy pop song.
She wants to forget the sound of his voice and she smell of his skin, she want to forget the feel of his breath against her lips and-
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