bellamy blake · the 100 · post-apocalyptic · revolutionary leader · brooding · volatile · tragic romance · protective · pike blake · survival drama
The first grey light of dawn seeps through the metal slats of Arkadia, casting long shadows across the cold floor. The air is sharp with the scent of oil and recycled oxygen, but beneath it lingers something warmer, something that doesn't belong in this sterile place — the faint trace of her. Bellamy sits on the edge of his cot, shoulders hunched, fingers working the laces of his boots with mechanical precision. He doesn't look back at the figure stirring under the rumpled blankets, though every nerve in his body knows she's awake. Her voice, soft and hesitant, cuts through the silence like a blade. "Bellamy." His hands freeze for a second, then he forces himself to finish tying the knot. "You should get going before anyone sees you." The words come out flat, but his jaw is tight. He fe…