There's A First Time For Everything

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy knew the dangers of being with someone. It posed a risk on his entire family. The closer he became to someone, the more time he spent with that person . . . and the more suspicion could land on them. But Gena . . . she was different. He could feel it. They had been friends since they were children, and had started dating over a month ago. He felt, happy with her. A happiness that he knew was selfish to experience. Why? Because it wasn't fair to his family, nor to Gena. He couldn't think long term though. He never had when it came to Octavia. They wondered it of course, his mother and he . . . but they could only take this one day at a time. It was about surviving from this day to the next. Bellamy planned on joining the guard to gain a position that could better protect his family, but that was as far as he had gotten.

Right now however, he was not thinking about such stresses that consumed his mind every day. When he was with Gena, it was like everything just disappeared. Vanished, for the time he was with her. He was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. Just something about her . . . something wonderful that he didn't want to give up. And yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the longer he let it go on for, the harder it would be to end it. Because . . . it had to end eventually, didn't it? His naivety disallowed such thoughts. Instead, he was focused on tonight. They had a date. At her place. Bellamy wasn't an idiot, he knew what that could mean.

But they hadn't had the conversation about it. He imagined they would at some point tonight if they -- if she -- was ready to take that next step. Because he knew he was. Emotionally ready, which was far more important than being physically ready. Making his way to her place, he knocked on her door, having gotten something for her that he kept hidden behind his back. He had made a flower; with metal scraps and fabrics he had found. A single rose, the detail of each petal inspired by a picture he had seen in a book. They didn't have access to real plants, but more importantly, he knew they died. And he wanted this one to last forever. Just as he so desperately wished and hoped their relationship did.

[Gena Martin]

Having a date meant a lot to Gena Martin. The thing was, that the Ark was tightly scheduled. They had a lot of school work, they had to prepare for their future and Bellamy was generally busy, probably having to help his mother, like she tended to help her mother. It was luxury to have an entire evening of free time for a date and even more so to actually have stuff for their date. Her mother had worked hard this week and her fathers pension helped, so that Gena could get rations for this date.

She had spent the afternoon in the kitchen, cooking while studying. After all this was what she wanted to do in her future: She wanted to cook, to be able to help people like that. She had cooked since she was little, always helping her father with this, now she did it alone or with her mother, though she was working all night. It was all for her and Bellamy. They even had old spices, which was quite special. Gena was nervous. Given that they had been together for a while and she was really in love, this night could be perfect. They could take the next step, maybe, if they were both ready. She didn’t know if they were, though. It would show.

Bellamy was just on time, though she was not fully finished with the food yet. It needed to cook a little longer. But there was nothing wrong about that, she thought. Gena opened the door with a grin. “Just in time. Come in. The food is not ready yet. Come in. Sit down. Uhm did you find here well? I mean, of course you did, you were here before.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Seeing her always had an affect on him. As if the moment he stepped into her presence, every concern, every worry, just . . . everything, faded from his mind. He didn't think about the constant daily struggle to protect Octavia. He didn't think about the fear of losing his mother and his sister if they were discovered. He didn't think of surprise inspections, or how they would keep doing this as Octavia got older. No. None of that was foremost on his mind when he was with Gena. She just, had that effect on him.

And he was addicted to her. Hell, he was addicted to her. To everything she encompassed. She was his first girlfriend and he couldn't imagine being wiith anyone else. The emotional connection was strong enough on it's own . . . which was why he knew they would have to have a talk, to see if they were both ready to take it to the next level.

Because, well, he imagined it would be nothing less than incredible. When she allowed him to enter, he did so, revealing the intricately metal crafted rose that he had made for her. "This is for you," he said smiling. A single rose, each one rare and precious. Quite fitting considering who he was gifting it to. "I found the place ok," he assured her, despite her own answer to the question. "Is there anything I can help with?" He further inquired, as she had stated that the food wasn't ready, and he didn't want to be sitting or standing idly while she did all the work.

[Gena Martin]

Gena had not noticed how he held something until he pulled it up. She stared at the beautifully crafted rose. "Th...Thank you." The thing alone floored her. He made her something, because that looked like something someone put a lot of thought and effort into. Roses were not available here. But they knew, well a few kids knew, that back on the earth roses were a nice gesture on a date. Given how roses were unavailable this gesture was huge! He had actually made her a rose. Gena took the rose, feeling so very touched. It just solidified what she thought: he was the right guy, the right guy to trust and to do this with. He was wonderful. Gena leaned forward to kiss him. Then she reached for his hand.

“Nope, actually no.” She grinned. “The food all but cooks itself.” Gena moved to the table and sat down. She placed the rose in the middle of it, looking at it once more. It was perhaps the best gift someone had ever gotten her. She loved it. Gena still felt nervous, though. She thought they needed to talk about this first. But maybe it was too much? She didn’t know. She just had to wing it, really. “So… uhm, I was thinking we should talk a bit. Like… I’d be open to … go further, Bell.” And that barely worked, it seemed. It was new to her after all, the entire idea or… being intimate with someone, but she could imagine no better partner for this than Bellamy.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Her reaction made his heart swell with pride, the sincere appreciation in her voice and expression after gifting her the crafted present. This was why he loved giving her things. This is why he just . . . adored being with her. She was so sincere; so genuine. So grateful for the smallest thing, that another may dismiss. He couldn't offer her much. He wasn't privileged, and he didn't have status nor rank. He didn't have fancy connections, nor access to the finer things. But none of that seemed to matter to her. How he had lucked out and was with someone so damn perfect . . . was beyond him. He smiled as he watched her, before moving his lips to better conform to the kiss, taking a slow inhalation of breath at the sensation she never failed to fill him with every time their skin touched. When the kiss ended he slowly opened his eyes, gazing upon her beauty before moving his fingers to curl around her hand that held his.

"Probably for the best to leave the cooking to you," he said, a tease at his own expense but he could easily praise her for just about everything. Because everything about her always left him in awe at how perfect she was. When she sat down he did the same, seated near her as she then began to speak of taking things further. Once again, he was struck with just how amazing Gena always proved to be. Open. Honest. Sincere. And it left his heart aching with guilt . . . knowing that he wasn't reciprocating because of the secrets regarding his family. But tonight was not about that. It was about her. About them. He moved his hand to rest over hers, giving her a reassuring smile.

"I'd like that," he admitted to her, not going to lie about it or dismiss the notion. He wanted to be with her; he wanted to show her just how much he cared about her in ways that words failed him. "I care about you Gena, a lot. And . . . if you're sure you're ready, I'd like to prove that to you tonight." He wanted her to know that it wasn't just about the physical. But something far deeper, far more meaningful than just sex. The intimacy of what it would be stronger, due to the solid foundation they had in their relationship. "But . . . we don't have to. If you change your mind, or just want to take things slow, that's more than ok." He would move at her pace, what she was comfortable with. But talking about this as she prompted, was the most important thing. So that there was no pressure. Because, he would never forgive himself if he pressured her to do something she was not comfortable nor ready for.