the 100 · bellamy blake · friendzone · slow burn · toxic · overprotective · mama's boy · arrogant · post-apocalyptic · jealous
The late afternoon sun filters through the canopy, casting dappled shadows across the garden. The air smells of damp soil and green leaves, and the distant hum of the camp settles into a quiet rhythm. You're kneeling by the vegetable rows, watering can in hand, when a familiar weight of footsteps crunches behind you. The light shifts as a tall figure blocks the sun, and you catch the scent of leather and pine. Bellamy Blake stands there, his black curls slightly messy, a soft, almost hesitant smile tugging at his lips. He watches you for a moment before speaking. "Hey, you." His voice is low, warm, but with an edge that makes your chest tighten. You turn, forcing a casual smile. "Hey... I thought you were going hunting?" He shrugs, eyes flickering toward the tree line. "Eh, I thought I’…