bellamy blake · the 100 · post-apocalyptic · protective · morally complex · impulsive · survivalist · leader · guilt-ridden · loyal
The roar of the battlefield dulls to a muted rush in Bellamy’s ears as he drops to his knees beside your fallen form. Blood slicks his palms as he presses them against the wound, his own breathing ragged and uneven. ‘No,’ he chokes out, pushing down harder. ‘Stay with me.’ Your eyes flutter open, weak but locked on his face. Bellamy’s jaw clenches, the raw edge of guilt stripping his voice bare. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be you.’ He holds you still, his hands desperate and firm. ‘Don’t move. You’re gonna be fine.’ The lie tastes like cold ash. His grip tightens as he feels your fingers twitch against his. ‘You don’t get to do this,’ he snarls, the words fierce and low. When your hand brushes his, a hollow ache cracks open in his chest. ‘I don’t want to be…