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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 19:30:35 GMT
 Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy nodded a little in response to her statements about clothes not being too hard to find. That they could get things made. He had helped his mother on the Ark make clothing for Octavia, so even if they didn't ask anyone to do it, he would be able to with what he had learned from his seamstress mother. But he didn't need to say that. "I'll see what we can find," he told her, wanting her to know that he could look into this. That he would do what he could to collect the necessary items. She was also right on the abundance of wood.
Words that would have brought a smile to his lips if they were said under any other circumstance. But things were too, strained between them. He had to admit that he was relieved when she said that she would ease in her duties. He wasn't sure whether he expected her to protest, to say that he had no right to tell her that. But she accepted it. Indication that she knew what was safest and best for her and the baby. It was her question that shifted the conversation. Her question, a fair one. Completely valid. "I want to be as involved in his or her life as I can be," he told her truthfully. He was devoted. To a fault. Because all those that he was devoted to, those who he tried to protect . . . hated him for it. The more he loved someone, the more they loathed him. Maybe this child would fall into this repeated pattern. The thought made his heart ache.
"Harper . . . " He began to say, trying to determine how best to phrase this. How to address the elephant in the room. "I know things between us are, tense." To say the least. He looked at her, hoping she could recognize the sincerity in his words. "I know I've done things that . . . " She doesn't agree with. That others don't understand. "You might hate me for." There was nothing in his tone that indicated he said this for sympathy. He was used to others hatred. But none so strong than the hatred he felt for himself. Maybe that was why it was easier to accept it. "But if we're going to raise this baby together, we ned to . . . work together. As a team. Because our baby, will need us." Both of them. As a mother and father.
"So, whatever you need to say or do, now would be the time to get it out of your system." He was braced for it. Anything and everything. Whether she wanted to yell at him or hit him. He would let her. Because that was his purpose; to be what the others needed him to be. To endure, so that others could release their emotions onto him. He knew that early on, and it was reinforced with Octavia's actions. He deserved it. All of it. And he would deserve this. So he was prepared, for whatever Harper needed to do or say so that they could start to function instead of let this awkwardness continue to linger. He didn't expect her forgiveness, but he knew that if they stayed like this . . . then it would be more difficult to raise a child together. And Bellamy didn't want their baby to pick up on this; to be exposed to such tension between his or her parents.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 19:10:09 GMT
Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Her first poetic line caused him to laugh again. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to stop. But no sooner did the thought enter his mind, did he actually stop. Noticing the frown of Harper's face. Now that wasn't good! He wanted to see her smiling! But her reason for the expression was completely understandable. His hands moved to the corners of her lips, gently pulling them up in attempt to make her smile.
"Turn that frown upside down." Another rhyme! Something that made Bellamy's smile return. especially when she asked him to rhyme for her and he was able to do that. And even more so when he felt her hands in his hair. He closed his eyes, humming with contentment at the returned sensation. Her rhyme made him laugh as he opened his eyes to look at her, not even realizing that his hands were casually resting on her knees.
"You did it! Because you didn't quit. You made a rhyme, and it was sublime." He was on a roll with it, as he wanted to give in to her request. She wanted him to rhyme for her and that was what he was going to damn well do. "I like your smile . . . it's been a while." He didn't even realize that he was leaning even closer to her. Since they were somewhat on the topic of hair, he tilted his head so that his face was nestling against the side of her head, into her locks. "You smell so good, like I knew you would." The words followed by a deep breath, inhaling her intoxicating scent while his lips curved upward into a smile.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 18:52:49 GMT
Tag: @bryanbryanbryan whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy was bracing himself for Bryan's reaction. He would be entirely understanding if the man stepped away. But even if that were the case . . . Bellamy wouldn't give up on them. He never had. He was determined to fight for them, to try and earn Bryan's forgiveness, even if he didn't deserve it. To have heard before Bryan tell him that he loved him, and that they were still committed to each other . . . had given Bellamy hope. Hope, that he could somehow fix the damage he had done. Maybe Bryan was better off with someone else, but if there was one thing Bellamy knew for certain, it was that no one could love him more than he did.
His reaction caused his heart to flood with emotion, wrapping his arms around him, telling him that he didn't know. Bellamy's own arms instantly wrapped around him, holding him close, closing his eyes, the guilt of all this strong but so was the relief. Bryan understood. He understood the need to protect his sister. His lips against the side of his neck warming his entire body. Bellamy nestled his own face in the crook of Bryan's neck, just basking in this moment. How had he been so damn lucky to have the love of someone like Bryan.
Someone as compassionate and understanding. Bellamy knew early on that Bryan was far too good for him. This only reinforced that. Slowly, Bellamy drew his head back to look at him, holding back the tears. "I want to make this up to you," he told him. And he knew, it would take time. "No matter how long it takes." He leaned forward to lightly kiss Bryan's lips before moving back again to look at him, so that the younger male could see the sincerity in Bryan's eyes. "If you'll let me." An indication that Bellamy wanted to solidify that commitment. To be with him, not only physically but in every other aspect of the word. Not that he had ever stopped being with him. He was devoted to Bryan, and wanted to define that, if Bryan wanted the same thing.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 18:41:11 GMT
  Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT As if Bellamy wasn't already completely worked up . . . Jackson's responses, verbal and non verbal, were more than encouraging. Were further bringing him to his release. Jackson's whispered curse would have prompted Bellamy to smirk, had his features not been somewhat twisted from the long awaited vigor needed. And he had no intention of stopping. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but was also enjoying prolonging Jackson's orgasm. "Hurts, doesn't it?" He breathed against Jackson, his lips going from the back of his neck to his ear, nibbling on the shell of it before continuing.
"To want to be touched. To want to find your release." His voice spoken between each pant, breathless due to the enthusiasm in which he was thrusting into Jackson. He was taunting his partner, and found some semblance of teasing revenge in his words. His hands didn't move from the position, still pinning his against the bed. Bellamy then used his knee to slightly straighten Jackson's leg, just enough that he was a bit flatter against the bed. Bellamy adjusted position with him, not losing his momentum inside as he thrust.
With Jackson flat against the bed, his movements caused Jackson's cock to rub against the surface of the bed. While it was minimal, and what Bellamy hoped wasn't enough to get him off; it was meant as a tease. Bellamy would tend to his partner . . . eventually. "How does that feel?" He further taunted him, his lips against his cheek, tongue snaking along his jaw line. "Better than my hand or mouth?" He groaned, throbbing inside of Jackson, knowing that it would only take a few more powerful thrusts until he finally came.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 17:28:36 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT He wanted this to last. Bellamy could understand that, usually. But right now, he felt maddened with need. Which numbed all other rational thought and logic. Even the ability to form coherent sentences was getting increasingly difficult. He asked almost teasingly if he wanted them to come. "Yes!" Bellamy breathed, a strong urgency in his voice, his back arching a little. He asked the question again, and Bellamy just groaned in response, wanting to tell him to do it, to let him come, to let them come. And finally, he was moving over them again. The possibility of Jackson stopping didn't even enter Bellamy's mind -- despite the pattern of him having done it twice before.
"Oh yeah," he breathed in intense pleasure, trying to gain some leverage by meeting each thrust but it was difficult considering the continued hindered position Jackson had put him in. So when he stopped, a pained sound, strained with the loss fell from his lips, louder than before. It was too much. He slightly lifted his head from the pillow only to hit it back down against it, as if to express some of that deprivation and the abrupt and severely painful loss of being denied yet again. Breathy curses escaped him repeatedly, countering Jackson's own as the younger male tried to compose himself once again. But it was to no avail. Jackson asked him how bad he wanted it, and then kissed him.
Bellamy returned the kiss, hard, his hand moving from his cock and tightly gripping a fistful of Jackson's hair, pressing his head against him as he slipped his tongue intrusively between Jackson's lips. He was in part using this as a distraction, but also, as a way to pour out that frustration in some form of physical contact. His hand that had been on Jackson's ass, moved to his partner's shoulders. "I'm not gonna tell you," he breathed against him, nipping on his bottom lip. Then, in one swift motion, he used his strength to flip them around. In this altered position, Jackson was now on his stomach against the bed, while Bellamy used his weight to position himself on top of him. He lowered his head to Jackson's ear, breathing into it.
"I'm just going to show you," his voice deeper than usually, slightly gruff from all the sounds he'd made of both enjoyment and deprivation. With that, he adjusted them a little more, moving Jackson so that he was a little more on his knees that were parted, his ass facing up and his upper body lowered more onto the bed. Bellamy took his own position, starting on his knees before hunching over so that his chest was pressed against Jackson's back. Each of his hands went to Jackson's, holding them against the bed on either side of him. Satisfied with his position that shifted the control, Bellamy deeply thrust into Jackson. He didn't even wait, the build up too much for him to slow his actions.
Instead, he just pushed into him, again and again, grunts and groans falling from his lips, stifling them by sucking on the back of Jackson's neck. His hands continued their hold on Jackson's, limiting his mobility just as Jackson had done to him, only in a different way. He also was conscious of the fact that he wasn't providing any relief to Jackson's own cock. Whether he would come from this or not, he wasn't entirely certain. And fully intended to tease out his own orgasm in playful revenge.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 17:08:28 GMT
Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Amazing. Bellamy was unused to hearing praise that he could ever accept. Though he wasn't about to put a damper on the mood. The fact that she thought so, the fact that he was able to engage in this kind of physical intimacy with her . . . well, he was relieved for it. That she found it to be enjoyable, pleasurable. That he was fulfilling his roles as a sexual partner. After all, he had been the one who had suggested it. It would be utterly unacceptable if he left her, unsatisfied. So this at least indicated that it was not the case. Her next words brought a smirk to his features when she teased him about feeling tired, and then playfully remarked that he would be.
"You trying to train me now?" He asked her with the same playful tone. "Give me a workout?" Since he had been the one training her and pushing her physical limits. Only this time, it was an entirely different kind of physical workout. When her hands went to his arms and they flipped positions, Bellamy held no protest in this. He turned over, on his back and immediately enjoyed the view of having Harper on top of him.
His eyes started from her face, slowly lingering over her flawless body, his tongue running over his lips, gaze glossed over with the desire and need to touch her again. Praise her with his hands and mouth. They seemed to be of a similar mind, for she began to kiss him, her hands moving over his chest. He breathed into the kiss, indication that her touch was sending so many things coursing through him, leaving a trail of warmth that went right to his already aching core. Something that only intensified when her lips moved down his neck, sucking it.
Bellamy's hand went to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her golden locks, the grip slightly tightening when she pinched his nipple. The gesture causing him to sharply gasp, the pleasure of the action making his cock even harder. And she didn't even seem to be done. He groaned with intense pleasure when she began to suck his nipple, his hand roaming down to her behind to give it a squeeze from where he could reach in this angle. "You feel incredible," he breathed in full encouragement of what she was doing. His breathing hitched, chest heaving in anticipation when she moved lower . . . and he knew what she was doing. His member already hard and ready for her, his eyes following her every move so intently. She said he was beautiful, and while he may disagree, the compliment caused him to smile.
"Not as much as you," he playfully retorted. He found himself perfectly content with just lying here, allowing her to take control, to move over him, to react and let her control the pacing of their actions. But then he noticed her pause, hovering near his severely hardened length. Her breath so close to it, thickening his arousal even more as if that was even possible. The thought of her lips around him was delving him into the strong need of it. But . . . that didn't exactly trump her own comfort. He swallowed, trying to maintain his composure. He sat up a little, propping himself up on one elbow while the other hand went to her head, gently brushing back a few stray locks of her hair from her cheek. "You don't have to if you don't want to," he told her in a low voice, deeper than usual due to all that she had made him feel.
The incredibly wonderful trail of touches with her hands and lips she had left over his body. He didn't want her to feel, obligated to reciprocate his own actions. "But if you do . . . " Not because he felt like he needed it, but because he wanted her to feel confident in herself. "Well, let's just say that from what I've akready seen and felt, you've got a pretty damn talented mouth." Reference to her kisses and sucking of his skin. It was a way to ease any of the uncertainty that she had, whether it was effective or not, had yet to be determined. The main thing was that she was at ease with whatever she decided . . . and that she enjoyed herself in the process. That was after all, what this entire thing was all about.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 16:44:47 GMT
Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Hearing her thank him, allowed him to offer the slightest of smile. Minimal only due to the lack of joviality because of . . . well everything he had done. Had he protected the others better, they never would have needed saving like that. And an entire civilization of people would still be alive. He had sent them into battle, and they had been tortured in Mount Weather for it. But that was not the conversation to be had right now, or ever. It was conversations that he had assumed Clarke would be here for and since she wasn't . . . he would have to keep it inside.
Not wanting to burden anyone else with it. Having to tell the others of Clarke's departure -- including her mother -- had not been easy in the slightest. He didn't know if Harper knew, though figured she would find out soon enough. Right now, they needed to work on her rehabilitation. When she said she was ready, and started taking slow movements, Bellamy watched her, remaining in position as she moved forward. It was only when she paused then he walked to her side. He was standing close enough to give her the support if needed, but he wasn't holding onto her. He knew better than to coddle the others. Besides, Harper was too strong to need that.
The question of food offered a welcome distraction, as he continued to walk, moving at a slow pace for her without needing to state that. "It's a hell of a lot better than it was at the dropship," he somewhat joked . . . though there was truth in his words. The food probably wasn't as good as it was in Mount Weather but the last thing they needed was to draw the conversation back to that. "We have more experienced people in the roles," he added on. Not a bunch of kids who just cut meat and cooked it over the fire. "Are you hungry?" He asked, wondering if she had an appetite and if so, wanted to get her something right away. He wasn't sure when the last time she ate was, and if she wanted something, then it certainly was a good sign.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 16:42:32 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Jackson's laugh caused Bellamy to give him a mock look of disapproval, though it hardly lasted, his expression glossed over with the aching need. Besides, he loved hearing Jackson's laugh. He loved the once rare sound, that he now had the privilege and honor of hearing more frequently. Even if right now, it was at Bellamy's expense. When he asked him if it didn't feel good, Bellamy wanted to protest. But he knew he couldn't exactly lie. "It does," he groaned. "But it could feel better," he teased. He needed more of him, he needed to find that point of ecstatic bliss. Then he would let Jackson tease him all he wanted.
Right now . . . he was desperate for that release, and hoped his partner would give it to him -- despite past instances where Bellamy had ignored his lover's pleas for some time. He groaned again, swallowing with Jackson's lips at his neck, his hand plucking his sensitive tip . . . it all felt so good. Bellamy raised his head a little to try and reach Jackson from his angle, kissing the side of his head, nipping at what he could. But he was forced to sink his head against the pillow once more when Jackson started to pick up the pace. Thank god. Bellamy's hand started gliding over Jackson's cock, content with giving him some pleasure now that he was giving into Bellamy's desires. But the thought had hit him too soon, because Jackson once again, stopped right when they were at that edge that would have pushed him over.
A sound of protest left him, louder than before. His nails dug into the cheek of his ass, his hand squeezing his cock as it stopped stroking him. Both somewhat involuntary actions serving as an outlet of the pain over Jackson's denying him. "Son of a bitch," he groaned, cursing more at the situation than at his partner. Though he wasn't far from cursing at him either. Bellamy's chest heaved, his jaw clenching as he tried to get some movement though couldn't. "Well what the hell are you doing to me?" He questioned breathlessly, in response to Jackson's own words, that same playful frustration in his voice. Finding any sort of composure seemed impossible right now as he looked at Jackson through heavily lidded eyes.
"When I encouraged you to ride me, this isn't exactly what I had in mind," he told him. His hand on Jackson's cock went to his arm to strongly pull him down so that Bellamy could firmly capture his lips in a fervently heated kiss, pouring out his need into the embrace, uncaring about being gentle in the kiss. He only ended it so that he could speak. His words holding a desperate demand to them. "Make us come," he panted, needing to. He nipped at Jackson's chin, sucking it for a moment before continuing. "Let me fill you." As if trying to make the thought enticing enough for Jackson to actually comply with.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 16:07:52 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Too long. He was right about that. Never again, did Bellamy want that much time to pass without showing Jackson how much he loved him. There may always be extenuating circumstances, but the emotional strain that their relationship had taken, fed into it. And Bellamy never wanted something like that to come between them again. Right now though, he was too engrossed in the moment. In the overwhelming pleasure that was consuming him as he worked them both to their release. He was enjoying the way his thrusts made Jackson move, and groan.
His eyes intently resting on his partner's face, soaking in the glorious sight. He felt himself throbbing inside of him, his actions becoming more hasty . . . when suddenly, he was forced to stop. Jackson had hindered his movements, sitting on top of him, and his hand on his cock halted. Bellamy let out a sound of discomfort and protest, though his actions didn't change. "You've got to be kidding me," he breathed out in playful annoyance, though that pain of not being given the release his body desperately required . . . was very real. The distraction of Jackson's lips on his own helped, and his words of wanting to prolong the amazing feeling as well . . . but the physical desire was impossible to ignore.
Jackson still managed to keep him on edge, rocking his hips over him, not enough to push him to his orgasm, but enough to prevent him from descending in his arousal. Jackson's kiss on his lips may have been slow, but Bellamy's was fill with fervent need, having been slowed in his other outlet for it. "How long are you gonna keep this up for?" He asked against his lips, the question a teasing one, his mind inevitably going back to when he had teased Jackson while having him cuffed to the bed.
Bellamy tried to meet his own movements, attempting to push his hips up to delve deeper into Jackson, to control the pace, but it was difficult in their current position. His free hand roamed down Jackson's back, squeezing his ass as if to urge him to move faster. "I need more," he breathed against him, somewhere in between a demand and plea. "I need more of you." He needed them both to reach their release, strained sounds of need involuntarily having escaped him from the slowed movements.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 15:48:25 GMT
Tag: @bryanbryanbryan whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy tried to read Bryan's tone when he spoke, when he stated that one question was answered. It was more his body language that gave Bellamy hope . . . and yet at the same time, once again firmly etched in his mind was the fact that this wasn't all there was to it. When he put his hands on his shoulders, Bellamy instinctively moved a little closer as well, looking into his eyes when he asked his next question, initially with a non verbal response as he slowly shook his head. "No," he answered truthfully. There had been one statement that caught Bellamy's attention when she was explaining about the wristband.
Do you want the people you love to think you're dead? That had been Bellamy's only hesitation with convincing the others to remove their wristbands. But clearly, it hadn't been enough to stop him. "I didn't know the Ark was dying." Why Clarke had kept that from most everyone, he didn't know. "I didn't know it then. I didn't know it when I pulled out the radio from the pod sent down." He wasn't justifying himself. He knew that his actions were selfish, done only with the intention of protecting himself.
"I . . . didn't know the culling was going to happen." Now revealing the incident that directly resulted from him further cutting off communications with the Ark. His heart beating rapidly in his chest as he watched Bryan, waiting for his reaction to this. Whether he would once again step back, or whether he would keep this contact that Bellamy was selfishly indulging it; needing it, after being so deprived of it for as long as he had. Which again, he had only himself to blame. For leaving Bryan, and for prolonging the Ark's arrival to Earth.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 1:11:41 GMT
my people MY RESPONSIBILITY Somehow, Bellamy's smile widened even more at Isaiah's mention of liking mythology, though his interest was more in fairy tales rather than Roman. "I haven't read too many fairy tales. Just a few." And he could understand the intrigue. The fantasy of them. "What's your favorite one?" He asked, finding it so easy to be genuinely curious about him when they suddenly had this wonderful hobby in common. Not that Bellamy's interest in Isaiah had been non existent prior to this moment. If he didn't have any interest in the male, he wouldn't have invited him tonight. "Sounds like a good way to get into your profession. Is it what your parents do, or did?" Present or past, Bellamy wasn't quite sure. He hoped if it was the latter, then Bellamy hadn't just dampened the mood with any reminder of loves lost.
The hand on his knee was comforting, and Bellamy found himself craving more contact with him. Not wanting to discourage him from it, he kept his gaze focused on Isaiah, also leaning in a bit more to showcase his interest and enjoyment of being near him. "I guess I just like the different origins of each figure in Mythology. What they represent, and how they all tie together." He wasn't sure if that made sense, or if he wasn't doing a well enough job explaining it. "The chaos of it all," he said almost jokingly, but his words held truth as he smirked a little. There was just something appealing about the dysfunction. "I'll have to read more fairy tales. My knowledge of them are pretty minimal." And he felt more inclined to read them as they were Isaiah's preference.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 0:50:33 GMT
Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy listened to her simple answer to his question. There was no one she needed to tell. No one that would have to know sooner than the others. Once again, he was not met with relief nor disappointment, but it at least made the situation slightly less complicated. No other wanting to claim full parental rights on the child in his place. Her question in return, though fair and understandable . . . hurt. He knew it was not the intention, but it was a painful reminder. Not that Bellamy ever forgot. There were so many that he would have said yes and immediately listed.
Octavia, his sister who he would have been able to tell her that she was going to be an aunt and someone that he had fathered himself. Kane, who had been like a father to him and would have asked for any advice he would have for a new father. Clarke, who had been his best friend for so long, and someone he could have otherwise shared his insecurities with. Gena . . . who had been the first and only woman Bellamy had ever allowed himself in a relationship with. All the relationships had practically ended, the first three in a very different way from the fourth. Realizing that Bellamy had been silent for too long, and that his gaze was downcast on the table, he finally answered.
"No," he responded numbly. Apparently a few more moments of silence were required so that he could regain himself. It was a good thing the quick flashes didn't result in his eyes welling with tears. He slowly raised his gaze to look at her. "We should start making preparations. We'll need a crib, clothes, diapers . . . " They'd have to make it out of whatever they had. Something better than just simply cloth. "It . . . also might be best if you ease your duties in the guard." Not necessarily quit, but not train or go out for dangerous patrols. He didn't want to tell her what to do, but hoped she would take into mind the safety of the baby. Their baby. His words held no demand, only a suggestion . . . emotional advice.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 0:21:56 GMT
Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Infant Bear. Bloody hell. That was hysterical. Bellamy found himself laughing again, at the mention. Why was his face hurting from laughing so much? He should laugh more. It felt good. Especially laughing with Harper, and hearing the beautiful sound that fell from her lips. "Infant Bear," he repeated between his slowly calming chuckles. "That's gold. As gold as your hair, Harpilocks." The term just suited her so well. Who would have thought. When she seemed to have forgotten what she was going to say, and asked him, Bellamy looked at her pensively. He squinted his eyes a little, as if trying to use his mind reading powers.
"You were going to say . . . " His looked at her, entirely focused and fully concentrated. As if he could see right into her mind. He suddenly became distracted as her words fully processed in his mind. "You're a poet and you didn't even know it!" He exclaimed, laughing again and ignoring the looks that they were getting from the slowly dwindling crowd. "Harpilocks likes to rhyme, apparently at any time." This could go on for a while, and so he drank the remaining contents of his drink . . . whether there was actually any left in there or not, he hadn't the faintest idea.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 20, 2016 0:15:04 GMT
my people MY RESPONSIBILITY Bellamy smiled at his repsonse, more so in seeing the colored that touched his cheeks at the . . . well, flirtatious remark. Hell, Bellamy ahd been the one to start that, and he found it rather endearing of Isaiah to shyly continue it, with a blush on his features. "Well, maybe I'll take you up on that offer sometime," Bellamy further teased, with a playful smile dancing on his lips. It was all in good fun of course. Wasn't as if he was going to pounce on Isaiah right here and now. But he had to admit, he was finding the man more and more attractive with each passing moments of their conversation, and noticing the small details in his features and demanour.
"Maybe we're just that good at being sneaky," he suggested when Isaiah expressed his surprise that they hadn't run into each other. Maybe they had managed to be elusive enough to avoid each other. But the thought of them potentially being in the same restricted area was an amusing one. When Isaiah admitted to liking to read, Bellamy's smile widened. Something that they had in common. He listened to Isaiah further explain it, saying that he was always trying to find more books. It had been one of the things that Bellamy had initially loved about this place: the book selection. Even as a young boy, he enjoyed reading.
It was nice to know that he and Isaiah had that common interest. "Well, that has yet to be determined," he teasd when suggested that he doesn't have a musical bone in his body, reminding him of the singing offer. "I like to read too," he admitted. "Especially history and mythology, mainly Roman." His mother had allowed him to choose the name of the unborn baby. Octavia if it was a girl. Augustus if it was a boy. "What kinds of books do you like to read?" He inquired curiously, finding it so easy to give the man his full and undivided attention.
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Arker
"We save those who
we can save today."
Personal Text
Single
Relationship Status
Rebel Leader | Dark Knight
Lethal Weapon
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
AST
Tag me @bellamy
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 19, 2016 23:39:10 GMT
Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy watched Harper, sensing that she was debating on what to do, though she eventually sat down with ease. And when he did, Bellamy reciprocated in kind, sitting in the chair across from her. The table wasn't that big, so it allowed them to be close enough, without the invasion of personal space -- and the security of something in between them. As if the table was symbolic of their relationship. She answered his question, saying that she hadn't told anyone. He didn't feel relieved or disappointed in that. He just needed a heads up to know who exactly knew and who didn't.
"No," he answered quietly when she returned the question. The only perosn he would have possibly told, was Octavia. But well, since she disowned him -- or killed him off in her heart -- they weren't exactly on the best of terms. Bellamy fell into another silence, as if determing that what the next best question to ask was. He already knew how far along she was . . . and they would need to start getting things in order. "Harper, is there anyone you need to tell?" He should probably ask that first, inquiring as to whether she was in any romantic relationship, with someone who may want to or need to know this bit of information.
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