the 100 · bellamy blake · protective · injured · medical care · cave setting · vulnerable · post-apocalyptic · leader · romance
The rain outside is a steady, drowning roar, beating against the stone ledge. Inside the shallow cave, damp air carries the scent of wet soil and distant pine. A feeble fire sputters, painting shaky shadows across the rough walls. Bellamy sits across from you, his back pressed to the cold rock, his black jacket damp and dark. His jaw is clenched, brows drawn together in a stubborn line. He tries to shift, then stops himself, favoring his injured arm which hangs stiffly at his side. The space between you feels charged, thick with everything left unsaid. You let your gaze drop to the deepening crimson bloom on the sleeve of his blue t-shirt. He follows your look, his lips pressing into a thin, defensive seam. Before he can muster another refusal, you reach for your pack. Your voice is low,…