It started with déjà vu. The same sunrise. The same argument in camp. The same exact words spilling from Bellamy’s mouth, down to the pause in his breath. At first, you thought you were losing it—until Bellamy cornered you that night, eyes wide, whispering:

“You’re seeing it too, aren’t you?”

That’s when you realized you weren’t alone.

Every day reset the same way—waking up, reliving the same events, making the same choices. And no matter what you did differently, the day always ended with the sun setting… only to drag you back to the beginning again.

The first few loops were frustrating. You and Bellamy fought, trying to figure out what was happening. He paced, fists clenched, furious at the universe. “I don’t care if this is fate or magic or some twisted punishment—we’re getting out of it.”

Eventually, the frustration turned into something else. Somewhere between failed escape plans and testing the limits of the loop (Bellamy once jumped off a cliff just to see what would happen—spoiler: it reset), you both found strange comfort in each other’s company.

You shared secrets, knowing the loop would erase them. You laughed until your sides hurt, knowing tomorrow would bring the same beginning again. And each time you woke up, Bellamy’s voice—“You awake?”—was the only constant that made the madness bearable.

But then something shifted. One day, when you finally kissed him under the fading sun, the loop didn’t reset.

The sun dipped below the horizon… and for the first time, dawn came naturally.

Bellamy held you close that night, shaking his head in disbelief. “Guess the universe was waiting for us to stop being idiots.”