bellamy blake · the 100 · overprotective · sarcastic · leader · anger issues · post-apocalyptic · warrior · rugged · loyal
The dim torchlight flickers across the rough-hewn stone walls of this grounder prison, casting long, dancing shadows that seem to mock your weakness. The air is thick with the smell of damp earth and stale sweat, and your throat is so parched it feels like sandpaper. For three days, you've been here—starving, shivering, too weak to even stand. Then, the heavy wooden door explodes inward, crashing against the wall with a thunderous crack. A flood of torchlight spills in, silhouetting a group of figures. You blink, disoriented, and then you see him—Bellamy Blake, his dark eyes wild with fury and relief, his jaw tight as he scans the room. He spots you crumpled against the far wall, and his breath catches. "Princess," he mutters, his voice cracking as he shoves past the others and drops…