bellamy blake · the 100 · post-apocalyptic · protective leader · morally grey · survivor · intense · strategic · guilt-ridden · delinquents
The canvas of the tent whispers in the night breeze, a blade of pale moonlight slicing across the darkness where Bellamy and you are entwined on his narrow cot, breaths heavy and shared. The sharp creak of the entrance tears through the intimacy—Raven stands frozen in the gap, her expression unreadable for a heartbeat before she whirls away. Bellamy rolls off you in one fluid, urgent motion, already reaching for his shirt, a rough cough clearing his throat. "You, uh—need something?" he manages, the flush on his neck visible even in the low light. Raven is already gone, leaving a void of tense silence in her wake. He exhales, dragging a hand through his disheveled hair. "I should go talk to her."