Post by amber4 on Jul 8, 2018 21:53:40 GMT
 | TRY NOT TO RUN FROM THIS FREEDOM ALWAYS HAS A PRICE TO PAY tagged: Bellamy Blake |
They slept with a dozen other people in the bunker on thin cots with blankets made from recycled materials. After six years with no open windows or fresh air it was a stale smelling place mixed in with showerless days. On the wall beside Niylah’s bed, a splash of color broke the theme of grey. It was a mural of pictures, crudely drawn of oversized trees and rainbows. It was the world outside through the eyes of a child who had never actually seen it for himself. Apollo was quite the artist. Niylah’s sea blue eyes trailed over the pictures as she held her sleeping son against her chest. He was a thin boy who’d never known a good meal. He took up very little space on Niylah’s cot. Especially when she held him like this.
He was always so small. She worried about him, but the children were looked after. She hated seeing him train with the other kids. The tanned little thing could hold his own, but the days he couldn’t broke her heart. He was gentle and kind—hated hurting others. There was nothing intimidating about his big brown eyes or mess of deep brown curls. His freckles were always hidden under a layer of dust or chalk. He wanted to see the world; not fight in it.
The barracks were quiet and nearly empty now that the world had opened up. Niylah had left only momentarily, but she didn’t trust the situation. It was complicated. War. Nothing she wanted Apollo mixed in with. They had both watched Bellamy descend from the sky. The light had been so blinding that Apollo couldn’t watch it all. When she saw him, Niylah’s stomach had lurched with the need to see him; to show him their son. They’d had such a brief time together before the death wave—but it was too brief. Possibly too insignificant. If he rejected Apollo, surely it would upset him. The world was cruel. This one especially changed people.
She locked eyes with him so briefly when he finally hit the floor—but in the chaos of it all she made a quick getaway with Apollo glued to her hip under a cloak of black. It seemed silly... She had told Apollo about him. About how he was in space—about how she decided on his name. He knew him, and the stories that Bellamy would tell his little sister. Niylah didn’t hide Bellamy’s existence. In fact she was almost positive Apollo suspected it. She kept him underground—too afraid to leave. The world outside was not what they wanted it to be, after six years in the bunker.
Bellamy was in the center of it all. Niylah didn’t expect him to come looking for her. There was a time she’d have tracked him down herself but with their fate in the balance she was playing it safe. She still found it ironic—the god of sun trapped in the bunker. Now she was the one keeping him there.
He was always so small. She worried about him, but the children were looked after. She hated seeing him train with the other kids. The tanned little thing could hold his own, but the days he couldn’t broke her heart. He was gentle and kind—hated hurting others. There was nothing intimidating about his big brown eyes or mess of deep brown curls. His freckles were always hidden under a layer of dust or chalk. He wanted to see the world; not fight in it.
The barracks were quiet and nearly empty now that the world had opened up. Niylah had left only momentarily, but she didn’t trust the situation. It was complicated. War. Nothing she wanted Apollo mixed in with. They had both watched Bellamy descend from the sky. The light had been so blinding that Apollo couldn’t watch it all. When she saw him, Niylah’s stomach had lurched with the need to see him; to show him their son. They’d had such a brief time together before the death wave—but it was too brief. Possibly too insignificant. If he rejected Apollo, surely it would upset him. The world was cruel. This one especially changed people.
She locked eyes with him so briefly when he finally hit the floor—but in the chaos of it all she made a quick getaway with Apollo glued to her hip under a cloak of black. It seemed silly... She had told Apollo about him. About how he was in space—about how she decided on his name. He knew him, and the stories that Bellamy would tell his little sister. Niylah didn’t hide Bellamy’s existence. In fact she was almost positive Apollo suspected it. She kept him underground—too afraid to leave. The world outside was not what they wanted it to be, after six years in the bunker.
Bellamy was in the center of it all. Niylah didn’t expect him to come looking for her. There was a time she’d have tracked him down herself but with their fate in the balance she was playing it safe. She still found it ironic—the god of sun trapped in the bunker. Now she was the one keeping him there.
