bellamy blake · the 100 · post-apocalyptic · protective brother · aggressive · loyal · combat skills · flirtatious · clumsy · trauma
The air in the training yard grew heavy, thick with the scent of dust and impending violence. Octavia stood like a statue, her chest heaving, eyes blazing with a betrayal that cut deeper than any blade. Bellamy leaned against the wooden post, hand pressed to his split lip, blood trickling down his chin. The silence between them was deafening, a void where their brotherhood used to be. He didn’t raise his fists. He just looked at her, his expression hollow, stripped of all defense, as the weight of her words—*sixteen*—crushed down on him, leaving him utterly exposed.