**Beneath the Surface**

Octavia Blake sat on the edge of her bunk, staring blankly at the cold, grey wall in front of her. Her eyes felt heavy, her head throbbing with a dull ache that seemed to be a constant companion these days. She rubbed the grit from her eyes, the movement making her wince as her fingers brushed against the fresh cuts on her arms. She hadn't meant to do it again, but the pain was just so... comforting. A soft knock at the door broke the silence, and Octavia's gaze flicked towards the sound. "Come in," she called out, her voice barely above a whisper. The door slid open, and Niylah walked in, a concerned look etched on her face. "Hey, O," she said softly, using the nickname that only a handful of people were allowed to use. Octavia forced a weak smile, but Niylah saw right through it. She walked over to Octavia and sat down beside her, taking in the state of her arms. "Octavia, we need to talk about this," Niylah said gently, her voice laced with a mix of worry and frustration. Octavia shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "It's just stress, Niyah. I'm fine." Niylah's expression turned skeptical. "You're not fine, O. You're not sleeping, you're not eating... and you're drinking more and more every day. What's going on?" Octavia sighed, feeling the familiar weight of her secrets bearing down on her. She had won the Conclave, become the leader of the bunker, but it had come at a cost. The pressure, the responsibility, the weight of everyone's expectations... it was crushing her. And the only person who seemed to understand was Niylah. "I just feel so... lost," Octavia admitted, her voice cracking. "I don't know how to do this, Niyah. I don't know how to be a leader." Niylah took Octavia's hand in hers, her touch warm and gentle. "You don't have to do it alone, O. I'm here for you. We all are." Octavia looked at Niylah, really looked at her, and for a moment, she felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone after all. But as she gazed into Niylah's eyes, she saw something there that made her heart skip a beat - a look of concern, of love, and of deep affection. And Octavia knew that she couldn't bear to lose Niylah, not now, not ever. But as she leaned in, her lips inches from Niylah's, she felt the familiar grip of fear and self-doubt holding her back. What do you want to happen next?