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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 20:00:19 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy watched as Echo entered and for a second, he thought she was going to cut off his leg to prevent the spreading of the poison. Fortunately, she didn't. Not that what she actually did looked much better but at least his leg was still attached to his body. Bellamy witnessed her suck the poison out, Roan soon joining the scene to talk about different possible antidotes . . . and then of course there was Wick, seemingly traumatized by the entire thing.
"We're not losing anyone," Bellamy said stubbornly in reference to Wick's comment. Normally, he appreciated the male's sense of humor. Right now, he was too concerned to let humor help the situation. Or irony. Whatever it was. Bellamy hadn't even realized Jackson's head in his lap, though his hand had moved along with him, still resting on the doctor's head while Jackson's fingers gripped his leg.
Bellamy looked between Echo and Roan. "Best guess?" He asked, knowing that they shouldn't guess but they didn't have time to waste. "Either that, or we get what we need for all the antidotes." If there was no danger in administering more than one. "What's in them, what do we need?" He asked them, needing to find out to get some direction as to where they'd need to go to collect the items. Jackson's words prompted Bellamy to look down at the male, his heart aching at his plea.
He wished he could stay with him; wished he could comply with his request. But the more people they had out there, the better chance Jackson would have. "Right now, we need to focus on making you better," he told him in a calm voice. He couldn't promise that he would stay, no matter how much he wished he could. "You're gonna be fine." Because he wasn't going to lose him. He refused.
And would do everything within his power and capabilities to prevent further harm from coming to Jackson. He lowered his voice, his words meant for Jackson. "I'm sorry." For not being able to stay with him; for putting him on guard duty. For everything. Giving Jackson one more reassuring look, his hand still moving over his forehead, now feeling his spiking fever, Bellamy looked back up at the three others. "We'll need to split up." Because Bellamy highly doubted whatever antidote they made . . . was going to be easy to find the ingredients of.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 19:02:18 GMT
my people MY RESPONSIBILITY Bellamy listened to Isaiah's answer to his question, offering adequate detail to it. He jotted down a few notes, before returning his gaze to the man. Or well, following where Isaiah was motioning. Bellamy looked over the boxes before looking back to him. "How long have you been working here? And in this section?" Bellamy inquired, wondering if there were any informal changes within the division. Truth be told, Bellamy didn't monitor farming that much. His main duties were catered to his skills -- particularly one that allowed him to venture outside the walls of Mount Weather.
But he figured that apart from this being an interrogation . . . he was also familiarizing himself with the workers. And Isaiah didn't seem to be quite a bad guy at all. Plus, he was easy on the eyes. "Do a lot of people have access to different sections? Or is it just a select few?" Bellamy had asked similar questions to the others, but he was also checking consistency. Seeing who was offering the truth, and who was lying. This wasn't something worth lying about unless someone was guilty. Whether it be saying that everyone had access to the areas so that suspicion would not fall onto them, or if they said that only a limited few had access. Bellamy offered a slight smile and nod before Isaiah answered. "Relax. You're doing fine," he encouraged, knowing that this could be stressful . . . not that he was in the farmer's position but Bellamy could imagine.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 17:52:28 GMT
 Tag: @severitysoftly forgiveness IS HARD FOR US Bellamy listened as Jackson questioned that being what he did. The contact only broken for a moment, and Bellamy was relieved that he had it remain in some way, right now, in terms of their shoulders. He remained silent until Jackson finished, letting additional moments pass before responding. "Our intentions may be the same, but there's a difference," he began. The intention was to protect their people; the way they went about it was drastically different.
"Whenever I try to save our people, it comes at the cost of other lives." And that was what separated them; that was what made the circumstances vastly different. Jackson had not killed one group to save another. Bellamy would hate for that kind of guilt to be on his good friend's conscience. God knows he had enough already which pained Bellamy to know. But Jackson did not sacrifice one person's life fro another. His decision was to only protect their people . . . without the cost of killing others.
"I've placed value on life. Deciding who should live and who should die." He had done that in Mount Weather. He had done that with the Grounders. Only, Mount Weather was different. Because he had killed innocent people; children. People who actively helped him. It wasn't fighting in a war against those citizens. Whereas the Grounders . . . while Bellamy still felt they had gone too far, they were a bigger threat. And they would have killed them. Besides, those in Mount Weather were people that Bellamy had interacted with. People who had trusted him. Actively risked their lives to save him.
Clarke and Monty had both lacked that rapport with them. Not that it was easier to commit genocide . . . but Bellamy couldn't explain it to them. Perhaps it was a good thing they didn't have that additional weight on their conscience. "I always put our people first. But it's come at a cost. That others had to pay for with their lives." And he had made those decisions. Granted, not by himself. Well, not all of them. It threatened the subject that Bellamy never spoke about to anyone. The topic of something that still haunted him. He couldn't look at Jackson while feeling this admittance arise.
He looked ahead, at nothing, but just to avert eye contact. "I pulled the radio out." Jackson was trying to reassure him that he hadn't acted alone, but in this case . . . he had. Maybe this would be the final straw. Maybe Jackson could no longer be around Bellamy after the male admitted to being directly responsible for his own people's deaths. "When Raven came down in the pod, I pulled out the radio, making sure we couldn't make contact with the Ark. I did it, to protect myself." Because he had shot Jaha and believed to have killed him. Thus, he would have been punished.
Assassinating the Chancellor was not something people just forgave and forgot. "If I hadn't . . . " He shook his head a little, assuming Jackson was aware of the situation of what that lacking contact had resulted in. "Things would have been different." The culling would not have happened that way. They would have more time, more hope. But Bellamy had taken both things away from them . . . because he had been selfish in only looking out for himself. It was not something he could blame anyone else for . . . and he didn't. He wouldn't.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 16:29:38 GMT
 Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Letting him decide. Bellamy knew that had always been his mistake with Octavia, and even Gena. Deciding something for them that had detrimental results. Taking Octavia out of their apartment. Telling Gena to stay. Maybe Bellamy didn't have a right to tell anyone anything. Maybe he should back off. But his fear trumped most logic. As did his emotions. Jackson then told him that one tries. That is how. And . . . Bellamy just felt as defeated as his partner. He knew that Jackson's tone had changed. That the tears were slowing, but the emotion was still strong. Heated. "I have tried," Bellamy began, wiping the tears from his cheek though he knew they would not be the last of them.
"I just, don't know how to ask people to stay . . . for me." Selfish yet again, but he couldn't help it. "How to ask them to live, for me. With me. To just take a second and consider what losing them would do to me." Clarke. Octavia. Even Kane in a way. They had all given up on him, left him. Despite his commitment. And while Jackson had his reasons . . . the willingness and reckless way he risked his life, was what hurt. "That's what makes me selfish. And yeah, I damn well am." Which was partly why he hadn't allowed himself to be in a relationship for the longest time. It was more selfless; more safe for the person. As predicted, Bellamy felt more tears escape him, his eyes on his partner who's head was in his hands. Bellamy had to come to terms with the truth.
That no matter what, other lives were more significant. Maybe he'd known that all along. Maybe he should stop trying to beg, and plead for people to consider him. That, was something he would need to work on. Because being hurt by it . . . was getting to be too much. He remained silent, trying to find the words to say, sniffing back the tears.
"I'm not giving up. I'm not running away. I'm still here." Physically, and even emotionally. He was here with his heart, body, mind and soul. If he wanted to leave, he would have. He would have shut down Jackson and made him hate him enough to want nothing more to do with him. But he was having this conversation, because he wanted be with him . . . even if it wasn't what was best for his partner. "But . . . I'm scared that you won't be." That he would do it again; risk his life again like that. And next time, they may not be so lucky. His words, reinforcing his former statement of being unable to lose him.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 15:42:55 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy wasn't sure how long he had been in here for, nor the exact moment he had fallen asleep. He was only even aware of it when he heard a voice . . . inquiring about the others. Bellamy slowly opened his eyes, raising his head, keeping his hand where it was so not to lose that contact with Fox. Sleep was a luxury that Bellamy did not find easy. Particularly after Mount Weather. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw their faces. The children. The people who helped them. The only thing that got him through each day, was focusing on the others. Putting his feelings aside for the betterment of the camp and so he could find the ample distractions to make what was now Arkadia, livable and sustainable.
He looked over Fox, relief quickly washing over him in seeing that she was alive. That she was alright; at least physically. "Most of our people did," he answered simply. They had lost a couple to Mount Weather . . . Fox had been included among those they thought they lost. How relieved Bellamy was to be wrong about that. "How are you feeling?" He asked, concern in his voice as he continued to look at her, already planning to get a proper medical update from one of the doctors later.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 13:45:58 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Was he going to shoot her. His finger was on the trigger, the barrel of his gun aimed right at her. It would be so easy to do so. But . . . it would be revenge. It would be murder. He wasn't like the Grounders, who believed in a life for a life and that torturing and killing someone was justice. Clearly though, that rule only applied when it was Skaikru involved. They had let the Mountain Men get off, scot free. Letting them get away with the countless murder of their people for generations. And in return, every citizen of Mount Weather had to pay the price. Even children. He wondered if the supposed great Commander even cared about that. That her cowardice had cost the lives of children.
"Believe me, it's real damn tempting," Bellamy told her truthfully, dead pan fixed on what could so easily be his target. He had killed enough though. And killing Lexa now, wouldn't ease the pain. It wouldn't make the genocide he'd helped commit, any easier to bare. It wouldn't alleviate the guilt. But with his words, he did not lower his gun. He wasn't about to comply with a damn thing she said. He wouldn't take her suggestion. "Guess leaving us for dead didn't quite work out the way you thought," he added on sarcastically. Bitterly. His anger so focused on her. A sound in the distance was the only thing that tore his gaze away, just for a brief moment though. He didn't trust her and he couldn't believe she would show any restraint when it came to eliminating someone who could be perceived as a threat -- like someone pointing a gun to her.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 13:35:28 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly forgiveness IS HARD FOR US The offered physical comfort was . . . effective. Allowing a warmth to go through Bellamy, appreciative of the gesture. He couldn't accept any words to sway his mind, just like he knew Jackson wouldn't. So instead, he listened quietly as he explained the blame he placed upon himself for Mount Weather. Bellamy wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault. That Pike would have shifted his people in there regardless. That Jackson was just looking out for the interest of their people, wanting to save them with what resources they had available to them.
Bellamy had seen how exhausted Jackson had been, perhaps not as well as he should have. But working with Kane, also allowed him to see Abby, and the impossibility of her succeeding in duel roles. Jackson of course felt the effects of it perhaps more than anyone. The younger male remained silent, taking in Jackson's words. He was aware that the male wasn't telling him so that Bellamy would absolve him or guilt, make excuses or try to exempt him. Even though he wished he could convince him it wasn't his fault. "Every decision we make, has consequences. Some worse than others." He had once told Clarke that it wasn't easy being in charge. But even when a person wasn't in charge, decisions they made had consequences.
"You did what was best for our people. You wanted to give them their best chance." To survive, to live, to thrive. Bellamy was the one who had left them. He had put his trust in a Grounder and they all died from it. But as he previously established, he had a feeling that Jackson wouldn't accept his words not want to be excused. But that didn't mean Bellamy was going to agree that he should carry the guilt. "If someone had died because we didn't go to Mountain Weather, you probably would have felt guilty for not fighting harder for the decision to go." Almost a tease, but not quite.
Bellamy was trying to demonstrate that decisions made, were always risks. And that they couldn't know what the right one was, until it was too late. "You made a choice. And it wasn't the wrong one. Because you did it with the intention to help and save our people." Had Mount Weather not been blown up, the choice would have been validated. As Bellamy thought, sometimes you didn't know the consequences . . . until it was too late. But justifying in the moment, that had to count for something.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 13:19:47 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy half watched Jackson as he stepped away, moving to the other side of the room, his back toward him. Bellamy didn't move closer to his partner, though he instantly missed his warmth. The warmth of his body, his touch, yet right now . . . everything hurt with the direction this conversation was taking. The way he said his name made Bellamy's heart ache. He never wanted to hurt Jackson like this. Both of them had agreed to set aside their feelings of not deserving each other, of not deserving happiness found in each other . . . but right now, Bellamy felt it more than ever. The feelings of not being good enough for Jackson. Of being too selfish. too needy. It wasn't fair to Jackson. By being with him, he was hurting him. But he loved him.
Bellamy had learned with Octavia that love was not enough. He needed to be more. He needed to be better. Maybe this was normal; to be inadequate. For him to be not good enough for someone to choose first. To consider first. Maybe this was something he needed to work on, rather than place expectations on others. Bellamy swallowed, seeing Jackson's tear filled eyes, only furthering his own tears that escaped him. "How?" He asked, his voice slightly raspy from crying, from all the emotions. How would he do the same thing, when saving people, doing his job and going beyond was what he did. It was part of what Bellamy loved so much about him.
How could he ask him to change that, especially for a man who's life held less worth. "It's not fair to you. This . . . isn't fair to you," he continued, shaking his head a little as his gaze fell from Jackson's to the space between them. "I love you so damn much. I need you." In so many ways. Jackson had saved him, and each breath in this world came easier, being with Jackson. A joy and happiness found in a grim place. A piece of heaven in this hell. Slowly his eyes raised to rest upon Jackson's face, not even bothering trying to gain any semblance of composure. It was too late for that.
"But that need . . . my need, makes it too hard to watch you put yourself at risk like that." He knew this was on him. That he shouldn't be mad or hurt that Jackson hadn't considered Bellamy losing Jackson and the affect it would have on him. It was . . . normal, maybe. And it was Bellamy's fault for wanting too much; for being too selfish. For believing that someone would choose a life with him over anything else. Jackson had by agreeing to be with him, but right now, Bellamy knew for certain, more than ever before, that he wasn't good enough for Jackson. "It's not fair to you," he said again, a low voice, the pain of the words making it feel like his heart was breaking when the idea of letting him go was becoming more of a possibility.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 4:44:35 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Jackson drew back, his hand cupping his face. Bellamy still didn't make eye contact with him, though he listened intently to his words, denying what he said . . . saying that he couldn't lose him over this. He added on that he didn't think it would hurt him this way . . . the gentle caress of his finger wiping away his tears before continuing on. More logic than heart. That sounded familiar. But getting over it, was not easy. Especially when it involved Jackson. His feelings for the man were too deep to be able to forget what it felt like to have that crippling fear of losing him. "I'm sorry. You're more important to me than anyone." The words brought more tears to his eyes. He believed it to an extent . . . but he also knew that Jackson had a duty that would come first.
"I can't lose you either," Bellamy breathed, the thought unbearable. And it was what had plagued him for these past few days. He couldn't lose Jackson; physically or emotionally. Bellamy fell silent, knowing that he was having trouble. Struggling. He couldn't lose Jackson, not physically nor emotionally. But . . . as he had stated before, he was selfish. And it wasn't fair on Jackson to make him choose between his career and the duties it entailed, or Bellamy. "I love you for who you are." For everything that he was; Bellamy loved him. Sniffing he finally brought his gaze to Jackson, his heart aching at the words he was struggling to speak, especially seeing the tears in his partner's eyes. "And I could never ask you to change." He knew the reasons he was so hurt now, threatened to do that.
"So I won't." The words holding their own implications. "I can't . . . expect you to be someone else. To sacrifice who you are for me." Bellamy wasn't worth it. He knew that. He'd hoped that he could be more but with him being mostly emotion . . . and having brought so much baggage to this relationship, it wasn't fair to Jackson. Bellamy couldn't end this, but he knew that there were things to consider. "You save lives. Hell, you saved mine." In more than just the physical sense. He saved his soul, his heart, and that went far deeper than anything else. Bellamy felt tears on his cheeks, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Jackson's, with his arms still by his side. "I can't keep being selfish." By being with him. The words held their own implications, and the difficulty in saying them, prompted more tears. Bellamy wasn't even certain how he got them all out in the same breath.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 3:48:16 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy could see the surprise on Jackson's face, though the younger male made no attempt to apologize for his comment. He knew that in such emotionally charged exchanges, he often said things. Hurtful things. But not necessarily untrue. Nor always with the intention of hurting the other person. In this case, he said the words because he believed them. Said them because that was what the evidence seemed to point to. He saw the tears spill from Jackson's eyes, hating that he made him cry. But unable to do anything to change it now. Maybe it was inevitable. The conversation had clearly been going in that direction.
Bellamy forced his gaze away, turning his head to the side as he just slightly shook it, closing his eyes for a brief moment, but the tears continued to fall. Opening them, Jackson's words broke the silence. Words telling Bellamy that it wasn't like that. Bellamy didn't look at him as he neared him . . . nor did he turn away. His arms remained at his side rather than wrap around Jackson, but his body of its own accord leaned into his partner.
An instinctive reaction, craving the contact with him and the comfort that the warm embrace of his arms held. Even if Bellamy did not reciprocate it right now by putting his own arms around Jackson. He felt the wetness of his tears against his skin, his face nestled against his neck. He added on a plea, telling him not to think like that, telling him it wasn't true. Bellamy tilted his head to the side, his lips near Jackson's ear but more out of the convenience of the angle, rather than any past reasons that Bellamy would speak in Jackson's ear like this.
"Then what is it like?" He asked, his eyes closed once more, his tone almost sounding defeated. What was it like if not how Bellamy had stated it. Was there even an answer? A possible way to explain it? Once again, Bellamy acknowledged his selfishness, his greed when it came to Jackson. "I'm selfish," he admitted, vocalizing his thoughts. "And the only way I know how not to be . . . is to not be with you." But he didn't want that, obviously. He loved Jackson, more than he could ever express. Being with him was selfish, staying with him was selfish . . . but he couldn't let him go. Even if it was best for him, he just couldn't imagine not being with the man he loved.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 2:51:00 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Clarke. The subject was a sensitive one for Bellamy. Because, though he wouldn't say it, he knew how imbalanced the relationship was. He knew that he cared for her, more than she did for him. He hated to acknowledge it, but he knew. Which was why he couldn't argue with Jackson's words. All the evidence was there to support them. Bellamy knew she wouldn't do the same for him. And he knew, that just like his relationship with Clarke was one sided, so was his one with Octavia. Bellamy supposed he should be used to it; giving more than he received. Willing to do everything for these two women, but get nothing in return.
But having someone vocalize it . . . was not easy. To stand here, and listen to the brutal truth that people he had sacrificed for, didn't give a damn. It made his heart ache. He didn't know what Jackson's personal relationship with Clarke was on the Ark, nor was he going to ask many questions beyond what Jackson had offered to him now. "Doesn't mean I'd let her die for my actions. Or die because I let them have her. I'm not her. And you wouldn't let her die either." Bellamy wasn't so willing to sacrifice another person, just like Jackson wasn't. Had the situation been reversed, had Jackson had the opportunity to save Clarke's life at his own expense . . . Bellamy knew he would. It didn't matter a imbalanced relationship, or the lack of reciprocity or mutual affection.
Bellamy's sarcasm was met with Jackson's own, telling him that it was a good thing he was right. That he didn't die before they got to their room . . . that it would have felt great on his conscience. The mention of the word, caused a slight tremble in Bellamy's next words. "Don't talk to me about my conscience." His conscience, blackened, burdened by so much. The source of his self loathing and hatred. A conscience that made it impossible to look at himself for the longest time . . . until he felt worth, and that came from his relationship with Jackson. The man had practically brought him back to life, yet the fear of losing him could quickly destroy him. "Don't you dare talk to me about what's on my conscience," he added, a slight breathlessness to his voice.
He supposed that was always the difficult part of arguing with someone you love. They knew what words to say that would trigger an emotional response. They knew what to say to hurt you. His next words served as an irony. Mentioning conscience yet telling him that it wasn't on him. That he had to stop blaming himself for all that happens and everyone who dies. How could he? When majority of it was his fault. But that wasn't what this was about. It wasn't about blaming himself for everything. It was about Jackson, and the decision he made. The repercussions it could have had that were far worse than the ones it did.
"It would have been on me. For not fighting harder to stop you." Because Bellamy had not been in favor of the idea. And losing Jackson would have just been too painful. How could he possibly think otherwise? Bellamy was responsible for so many deaths . . . and he wasn't the only one who blamed himself. Others blamed him too. Which only validated his feelings of guilt Bellamy couldn't remain silent once Jackson explained how he had taken care of him. "None of that would have made a difference1" If he had died.
"Carrying you, taking care of you . . . none of that would have mattered if you died!" Jackson was focused on the outcome, but Bellamy was too fixed on the possibility of what else could have happened. The risk involved. Though Jackson moved closer, Bellamy remained perfectly still. He hated to see someone he loves, cry, and knew he had to tone down . . . yet he couldn't. He was too fargone in the heat of the argument. In the heated emotions that were pouring over, having kept them inside for so long. "As much as you allowed me," he repeated, the words playing over and over in his mind. He tried to take a few breaths, trying to compose himself, but knew that just as the tears were in Jackson's eyes, they were threatening to make their way down Bellamy's cheeks.
He shouldn't be surprised by the willingness of others leaving him, in different ways. But where Jackson had once built up Bellamy's worth . . . he felt it crumbling beneath him. "You're so willing to do that. To put yourself at risk, to jeopardize your life." Bellamy had promised him to be more careful, and he meant it. "You'd rather die for a stranger than live for me." And that was when his tears started to fall, the realization of this more painful than anything else. That he wasn't worth it; he wasn't worth living for. Bellamy deserved that he supposed, but his reliance on Jackson had been so strong. His love for him so powerful. And it made everything hurt even more. Because how could Jackson not know that if he died . . . Bellamy would have died right along with him.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 2:02:54 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT It had been a long and busy day. Active, filled with various tasks that included patrols, training, and other work throughout Arkadia. But his shift was done, and he was returning to his quarters. The distraction of work however was never something he would complain about. He preferred to work until passed out from exhaustion. Though today, he wasn't quite on that level of tired. If he felt he couldn't sleep, he would just find something else to occupy his time. Or, someone else.
But nothing prepared him for the sight that awaited when he opened his door and saw two women sitting in their lingerie on his bed. He froze in the threshold of his door, staring at them. His eyes inevitably moving over them as he took in the state of undress. What . . . was happening here? Harper and Gena were sitting in his apartment, in their underwear. He would have thought he was interrupting something but it was his apartment. Which, confused him further.
And yet, perhaps there wasn't any confusion at all. Perhaps, the most obvious answer was the right one. And if that was the case . . . then damn. He was one hell of a lucky guy. Logic quickly soon hit him, realizing that the door was still open and despite the display they set forth for him, he didn't exactly want to give everyone else a free show. So he stepped inside, closing -- and locking -- the door behind him as his eyes remained fixated on the two beautiful women before him.
He knew them separately more than he did together. He'd met Gena on the Ark initially, and Harper on the ground. Both women were incredible, and he respected them. Admired them. Though right now, he was appreciating them for more than just their minds and strength of heart. "What's going on?" He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, wanting to be clear on well, all of this. Before he fought the urge to just join them and get things moving if they were indeed going in the direction he thought they might be.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 1:45:06 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy was currently in his tent, speaking privately to Jasper. He was going over the layout with him, of where they needed to set up defenses around the camp. Bellamy intended to brief others as well, but right now, he was speaking specifically to Jasper. The delinquent had potential, and the older male was not oblivious to it. Nor would he fail to recognize it. He wanted to boost his confidence where he could. Besides, with the loss of so many other former seconds . . . Jasper was a good other candidate for one.
During their conversation however, another person joined them, immediately halting Bellamy's words as he turned his head to look at her. Raven. Nothing indicated that it was an urgent emergency, or a matter of life or death. So he wasn't sure what it could be. Nor was he rejecting of hearing her out. His curiosity further peaked by the fact that she wanted to speak to both of them. He and Raven had a tension that was slowly diminishing, but not completely gone.
Perhaps it was due to their initial meeting where he trashed her radio, before putting his hand around her throat and her holding up the dagger to him. Yeah. That would definitely do it. But she was smart. Pretty damn smart. And though Bellamy didn't exactly vocalize it, he held a highly strong respect for her. "Does it matter if we were?" He answered rhetorically, somewhat sarcastically, in response to her inquiry as to whether they were busy. She had come in anyway, and since she was already here, no point kicking her out. "What is it?" He asked in his typical, blunt voice, his expression unchanged as he just looked at her, awaiting an answer to his question.
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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 9, 2016 1:36:27 GMT
Tag: @jasper420 whatever THE HELL WE WANT The amused expression remained on Bellamy's face when Jasper surprisingly asked whether he meant today, or right now. And when he spoke of treating Bellamy like a vending machine, the older male couldn't help but let out another slight chuckle. "In order for that to work, you gotta put something in." He paused for a moment, looking at Jasper. "Something other than yourself," he said teasingly. His hand moving along his chest was a rather comforting sensation and played nicely into Bellamy's desire -- and perhaps need -- for contact after sex.
Even if he knew it couldn't go beyond any physical intimacy. It was still nice to sometimes pretend. Just for a little while. Speaking of which, Jasper's next words caused Bellamy to pause. He knew he could have played off the remark. Agreed with Jasper for the sake of closing himself off. But . . . Bellamy felt the need to reassure him, rather than belittle him. "Doesn't sound stupid at all," he told him truthfully. For those who could allow themselves to be in love, they should. Love was never a luxury Bellamy could afford, nor one he deserved. It was why he couldn't allow himself to get too close to anyone.
Why he never let anything surpass sex, or develop into something more emotionally charged. There had been times when he had been close ton letting it happen . . . but he had always pulled him. His head still turned toward Jasper, Bellamy's hand went to the younger male's hair, running his fingers through it. "I hope you find it." In someone that he truly cared about, and who cared for him. Bellamy meant it. Love, any kind of love, was a beautiful thing. The only kind he had known was the love he had for family. So many people have lost theirs -- a lot because fo him. But finding it in romantic partners, was a whole different dynamic.
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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 9, 2016 1:18:37 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Her response summed everything up. Revealing that she was well enough to demand that he shut up -- as this wasn't the first time she'd told him to, nor was she even the only person to say it. So he didn't question it. He knew Nina would use her own judgment and right now, she didn't seem to be the slightest bit hindered. Bellamy's mouth moved against hers, his hand on her cheek as he deepened the kiss once again, this time, with fervent need, breathing into the embrace to take in her scent.
He could feel the air touching his upper body, as she started to lift his shirt up. He broke the contact of their lips so that he could fully remove the article of clothing as he tossed it to the side. His now bare arms wrapped around Nina's smaller frame. A body that would soon grow with their child. A sight that Bellamy was so eager to witness. His hands returned to the fastening of her pants, proceeding to do what he had stopped himself from doing before.
He opened them, starting to slide them down as far as he could reach without moving their current positions. But maybe that was the problem. So in one swift motion, he turned them, now on top of Nina as she lay with her back against the bed. Bellamy couldn't help but smile through the kiss of their altered positions, able to move her pants down more easily as he moved his hands to bend her knees so he could keep sliding them off and down.
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Tag: 
