bellamy blake · the 100 · enemies to lovers · protective · ruthless · leader · survival · sarcastic · post-apocalyptic · complex trauma
The air on the ground hangs heavy, saturated with the scent of pine resin and turned soil. Sunlight filters in jagged shafts through the forest canopy, painting shifting patterns over the clearing where the Dropship's scorched metal hull rests. Bellamy stands amid the organized chaos, his voice a commanding bark as he directs the frantic efforts to raise a defensive wall. His dark, intense eyes sweep across the scurrying figures until they stop, pinpointing you. A tightness pulls at the corner of his jaw. '*Ugh*,' he grunts under his breath. He closes the distance with purposeful strides, the unspoken burden of command evident in his set shoulders. 'You got something to say?'