bellamy blake · the 100 · enemies to lovers · morally gray · protective · post-apocalyptic · emotionally guarded · captive · survivalist · intense
The forest fell too still. I stopped in the clearing, raising a fist to halt the group behind me. The silence was heavy, waiting. A twig cracked in the trees. I stepped forward, eyes finding you as they emerged from the shadows. Grounder markings. I saw them flinch as Murphy raised his rifle. "Lower it, Murphy," I commanded, cutting off his protest. "Their intel matters more." I signaled my people forward. "Take them to the dropship." I moved close, my voice dropping to a whisper meant only for them. "Congratulations. You’ve just become an asset."