Oh, I wish I had a River

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She used the words that he often used with her. Her logic was usually quite sound, difficult to argue with. She proceed to change into more comfortable attire, and Bellamy just stood watching her change clothes with rapid ease. Especially when she skillfully removed her bra. Now there was something he could have most certainly helped with. The light kiss she placed on the corner cause his lips to curve upwards in a smile, as her soft touches always did. She slipped under the covers, pulling the blanket up to her chin as she told him to start stripping.

He gave her a playful and joking look of disbelief, which only lasted for a moment before it turned into a smirk and amused smile. "Not unless you give me some music," he joked. It was so easy to do so with her. Joke. Tease. Appeal to this more playful mood that was quite easy to create with her. He proceeded to reach for his night shirt, taking off the one he wore and hanging it while changing into the other. He then grabbed another pair of pants, not the slightest bit shy in changing in front of her. They were of a thicker material, and less weighteed than the ones he wore on a daily basis. Once he was ready and his clothes hung, he moved to the edge of the bed to take off his boots. And then finally, he was ready to get under the covers. He wasn't sure whether it was the cold or what, but his head felt heavier than usual. And his sinuses were a bit off.

It was probably just the change in weather. The cold. Ignoring it for the time being, he moved the blanket back so that he could get under it before pulling it over them once more. His arm moved around Gena so that she could nestle against him, providing her with whatever warmth his body could give her in addition to the covers. "As far I know they haven't," he assured her, the idea of sleeping in sounded pretty damn good. "Sleeping in. Now there's a rarity," he said, only somewhat joking. He could easily stay in this position for quite some time. With Gena in his arms, her body resting against his, the comfort and aura of serentiy that practically exuded from her. It was moments like these were he felt any semblance of peace. Thanks to her. Thanks to Gena.

[Gena Martin]

“Music?” Gena asked surprised, with a giggle highlighting her amusement at the tease the two of them exchanged. It was cute, but he knew she could not provide any music. She was not the kind of singer to shatter glass because of how horrible she was, but she wasn’t good either and her rhythm was off when not given a steady one. So nope, no music would ever come from her under those circumstances, which where: It was not fully needed and he was teasing anyway. Gena still watched, ready to throw a pillow if necessary if he wouldn’t put on something warm. She didn’t want him to get sick and given where and how he worked, he was at a risk of that anyway. No pillows were thrown. 

Instead she was faced with the task of actually fitting them both onto the bed. It wasn’t that much of a stretch, really. If they slept still, they could easily lie next to each other, but that wasn’t really the goal of all of this. That was highlighted by Bellamy wrapping his arm around her. She moved towards him, placing her hand on his chest as her head rested on his strong shoulder. Hopefully that one would not bite him in the ass this morning, but Bellamy would say so. Not fully comfortable yet, she threw her leg over his, moving and shifting a bit until she found THE perfect position. It was not just a position she could tolerate, it was more. The curly haired woman sighed softly, contently. 

“Yes, especially for you.” She worked late, so got to sleep in a bit sometimes. He worked and worked and worked and would probably forget to sleep, if his body didn’t demand it. She sighed again. “You’re comfortable.” Gena mumbled against him. “I could get used to this.” She even wanted to. With Bellamy everything seemed easy. She understood his actions. It was easy to adjust to him – even his sometimes stupidly heroic antics. She knew how to handle him and she loved him, every day a bit more. “We should take a day off together some time.” She suggested. “So you can get some proper rest.” And she could pamper him a bit, knowing and suspecting he didn’t have that a lot. He deserved it.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

all of me

LOVES ALL OF YOU

He shifted where necessary so that they could both adjust themselves. The moment her leg came over, her head settled against his shoulder and his arm around her . . . he breathed out in pure relaxation. This felt perfect. Comfortable. More than comfortable really. "So are you," he teased in return when she told him he was comfortable. She was. Her comfort enough to warm not only on the outside, but inside as well. And that, was something he only found with Gena's company. "Are you warm enough yet?" He asked her, still wanting to make sure that she was adequately warm. A slight tickle in his throat made him feel the need to clear it, before responding to her next words of a day off together. To get rest.

"Sleeping in, day off together . . . you really know how to spoil a guy," he told her playfully. But once again, with truth to his statemnt. She always took care of him. Always. "That does sound pretty good though," he said, content in his voice at the mere thought of spending an entire day with her. Was that even possible? "Maybe we can just hide away in here," he said, knowing it wouldn't quite happen so quickly but the thought was a tempting one. "Stay like this all day tomorrow." A very tempting one. He even so much as closed his eyes to bask in that mental image, feeling the peace that it gave him right now.

[Gena Martin]

“Not quite.” She was getting there, though. With how warm he was against her, she guessed it would take only a few more moments for her to get warm enough, though. She was comfortable and surrounded by a warmth that was entirely different than she expected, too, it was a warmth she loved dearly. Gena ran her hand gently up and down his chest, wanting him to feel how she was there, how she was close and how she would remain close, hoping it would be as comfortable for him, as it was for her.

“We should totally do that.” Gena replied with a grin. She wanted that, mostly for him, so he could release some stress, rest and recharge his batteries. He needed his energy, he needed it so often. He protected them with his body, with everything he had. It was time he took a step back and let himself relax and recharge and hell, Gena had collected arguments to make him stay and do that. The others might need that, too. They needed him at the top of his game. “I think we should stay exactly here tomorrow, just you and me, enjoy each other and rest. Maybe enjoy a bit more about each other, too.” If he knew what she meant and he probably did. “Goodnight, Bell.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Her warm and comforting presence, and the soothing sensation of her hand moving over his chest was enough to lull him to sleep, allowing him to slowly drift as he heard her words in the background. "Good night, Gem," he said in return, a nickname he had coind for her using her initials. And it was so fitting for the perfection that was Gena Emily Martin. It didn't take long for Bellamy to fall asleep, and while he was an extremely light sleeper . . . this one was a restful one. His nights had become increasingly so thanks to Gena. She made him feel safe, and the nightmares he had were more managable with her at his side.

But the ease he fell asleep at was not the same he awoke with. Feeling that it was day time, he moved his head a little, stifling a cough so that he didn't jostle a still sleeping Gena. He groggily opened his eyes, his sinuses feeling blocked and his throat burning every time he followed it. Oh hell no. He was not sick. His body felt as if it was hot and cold at the same time, and whatever small tears of sweat formed on his forehead . . . were not because of the intensity of a bad dream.

He carefully moved his arm, trying not to move her too much as he worked on slipping out of the bed. He didn't get far though, an overwhelming dizziness taking over and his head feeling like it weighed tonnes. He sat at the edge of the bed, his feet on the ground as he closed his eyes, trying to gather the strength to stand up. He was not sick. He refused to be sick. He . . . couldn't afford to be sick. And then came his first fit of coughing, trying to hold it until he at least walked over to the bathroom.

[Gena Martin]

Movement was something she was not used to, but it was not a movement that jostled her awake immediately. It slowly, gently eased her from sleep to wakefulness. Gena only slowly opened her eyes as Bellamy moved from under her to sit up. She was still half asleep, so she didn’t move, just watched him move and then stop. That alone gave her a moment to stop and think. What could have caused that? What happened next explained it all. He coughed, badly. It almost sounded like he could not even breathe anymore. That was bad. That was really bad. He was sick. He had gotten sick. It was to no surprise given how cold it was outside, how he had given her his jacket and he worked mostly outside, guarding the wall. It was a good thing that they could stay inside this day. He could use rest.

Gena sat up. She took one of the blankets and put it around his shoulder, before leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek. It was coldish outside of the blankets, but he needed her now, or so she thought. Gena got up, while pressing her hand on his shoulder to make him understand to wait there. Then she went, once more, to put water on the heater before bringing him a glass of cold water. That alone should help with the dry throat for a bit. She’d probably go and ask medical later, but for now he needed to know she got this all under control and that he damn well should not pretend he was okay. He was far from being okay. “I knew you’d get sick.” She whispered as she handed him the water. “How are you feeling? How bad is it?” She needed him to be honest, that way she could deal with it the best way. “Sit back, Bellamy. You just had to find a reason to be spoiled, didn’t you? You couldn’t just… allow yourself to be spoiled, just because I could? Stupidly selfless man:”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He could feel the bed move as Gena got up, and seconds after felt the warmth of a blanket. Damn it, he hated to admit how good it felt. But definitely not as good as the kiss on his cheek. Nothing compared to her touches. She indicated for him to wait and . . . once again, Bellamy hated that complying was so much easier than moving. He didn't want to just sit here. He watched her as she began to get to work, passing him a glass of water which he drank one in only a few gulps. The cooling sensation helped soothe dry and scratchy throat, but the soreness was still there and made it a bit difficult to swallow. "Thanks," he said gratefully, holding the cup as she began to speak. "I'm not sick," he protested stubbornly.

"It's not bad at all, I'm fine." Damn his body for coughing moments after he said that. He tried to choke it back, but it seemed to only make it worse. Her suggestion to lie back was a tempting one . . . but his stubbornness made him want to do the opposite just to prove that he wasn't sick. To fight off the illness by not allowing his body to win. He looked at her with a slight smirk as she spoke of needing a reason to be spoiled, rather than just letting her.

"I'll take a raincheck for getting spoiled by you when I actually need it," he told her. Truth was, every second she was with him . . . he was spoiled. Undeserving of her affections made him spoiled by her presence and company. But, that would forever be a perpetual feeling he would have. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to a stand, closing his eyes for a moment as the dizziness hit, but managed to keep himself from staggering. He held the blanket around him with one hand as he went to the kitchen to put his cup away.

[Gena Martin]

Gena was close to just hitting her palm against her forehead in frustration. She could see him. He was not okay. From her position he was nowhere near being healthy. He was sick, but he denied it. And if he denied it, she couldn’t give him the proper care he would need. Stupid idiot! And his body betrayed him royally by making him cough again. Somehow Gena thought that if she just pushed him backwards a bit, he might actually collapse back into back, just by looking at him. Which was on one hand cute, on the other worrisome. He really was getting sick. Gena sat down next to him. She reached for his neck, making it feel like she was just massaging his neck like she tended to do, but really she was feeling for his temperature there. It became obvious when she placed her hand on his forehead and cheek. That was definitely not his natural body temperature. It was elevated. He at least had high temperature, probably a fever.

And still stood up. This damn idiot. Gena got up to follow him and hopefully catch him should he fall over, because he looked less than steady on his legs. It was such a shame really, how a simple sickness could make him this unsteady… and so stupid and stubborn, not that she didn’t know that before. Once he had managed his task, Gena gently wrapped her arms around him to hold him. “You have a fever, Bellamy. You’re coughing. You’re not steady on your legs. And you have the day off.” She whispered. “Please, go to bed. Lay down and rest. Let me take care of you. That way you will get better sooner.” Moving around him she looked into his eyes. “Please, I worry about you, Bell. And I know you would do the same for me, so please listen to me. Lay down and allow your body to heal.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The comfort of her hand on his skin, massaging his neck was immense. He closed his eyes, basking in the comfort that her touch never failed to grant him. But he only allowed himself to enjoy it for so long, knowing that he would forget that he was trying to prove to her that he was not sick. And perhaps to himself. Though denial only ran so far. And, well, he was being called out for it. He had a fever as well? Damn it. He hated knowing that he was sick; still refusing to acknowledge it despite Gena presenting logical and truthful arguments to prove that he was.

He couldn't deny that a part of him felt touched for her concern. It was one of those unfamiliar parts of being in a relationship, as this was his first one. Another level of intimacy that had for the longest time, remained unexplored for him. But it wasn't until she started pleading with him, saying that she worried for him . . . and that he would do the same for her. He looked intently into her eyes, finding it impossible to deny that, and to deny her. How the hell did she manage to do it? He knew he could be a stubborn ass, but with Gena . . . he found it difficult to deny her anything. Besides, she didn't often argue with him or overly disagree with decisions when it had to do with her safety -- not that they needed to overly concern themselves with that these days. The least he could do was listen to her in return.

"Alright, fine," he sighed, a slight annoyance at himself not because of his compliance, but because he hated his body for going against him like this. "Just for the morning," he added on. "And maybe the afternoon." Because suddenly, he felt like the only thing keeping him standing, was her. "But we need to find out if this is contagious. I don't want you to get sick." Because he knew that her nurturing side -- one that he adored -- may get her sick along with him. And he would hate himself all the more if that were the case. Conceding defeat. he made the few steps over to the bed and sat back down on the age, the relief of sitting consuming him, but that hint of stubbornness forcing him to remain sitting upright rather than fall completely into the luxury of the bed.

[Gena Martin]

Her getting sick was his concern, of course. That sounded just like him. Taking care of basically everyone, but certainly not himself. That was the man she had fallen for. And it was part of the why. They both felt the need to take care of others. In very different way. Gena was feeding people, trying to help through sicknesses; Bellamy was a protector in every way. He would fight for people, give his life for them. She would stay up nights for people, risk getting sick. Which was why she gently patted his cheek now. “If this is contagious, Bell, I’m afraid I probably already caught it.” It would just take a while for it to actually break out. Things like that did take time often. Like a cold. She would get in contact with someone having it and days later she would develop symptoms herself. And it didn’t worry her in the slightest. She was well fed, she had warmth, she could brave a little sickness.

“Now less worrying about me. I’ll be fine, Bellamy. Besides, I’m a much better patient than you.” Her tease was highlighted with a gentle poke to his belly. And she was. Unlike Bellamy she would sit or lay still – usually – when he told her to, because she knew she would do nobody any good while she was sick. With him, things were different. He wanted to protect, so he didn’t accept his own sickness. He would tell people he was okay when he wasn’t. “Lets get you to rest. And then we’ll tackle everything else when you feel better. If I get sick, I know I have someone who will take care of me.”

Bellamy Blake