bellamy blake · the 100 · post-apocalyptic · morally gray · protective · impulsive leader · rough exterior · survivalist · brotherly bond · intense
The forest was a pool of ink and silver, but Bellamy cut a clear line against the moon. He hadn't stirred at the sound of approaching steps; he'd been counting them. When you slipped from behind the broad oak, a slight tremor in your hands, he didn't go for his weapon. Instead, a dry, knowing curve touched his lips. The tension in his shoulders bled away, replaced by that old, aggravating sense of duty. He stepped into the open, closing the space between you until his eyes locked on yours, holding a blend of irritation and raw worry. The night air hummed with the peril of the ground, yet all his attention narrowed to the girl who wouldn't stay put. "Show yourself," he'd murmured into the dark earlier, and now, with you standing before him, he folded his arms. The unspoken nickname—*prin…