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SEPT 24, 2149 DAY TWELVE ON THE GROUND
BELLAMY WAS STARTLED AWAKE BY A CHORUS OF PERPLEXED VOICES SPEAKING FROM outside his tent; all exclaiming about some unidentified ruckus, one person even calling for him specifically.
Quickly, he untangled himself from the two naked girls nestled into his bare torso on either side of him; rushing outside with nothing on but a pair of low-waisted, black pants. His number one- probably rather unhealthy- coping mechanism had landed him in bed with the pretty women, but had not succeeded in taking his mind away from all his troubles. All he could manage to do was wallow in the overwhelming sense of guilt he felt; not having been able to stop Charlotte from leaping off the cliff. He had put the blame on himself for that, believing wholeheartedly he had failed her.
A roaring noise was dominating the land, the boy joining Dakota and Octavia where they stood; others scurrying to huddle around and see. He smirked to himself when he noticed the Thompson girl's eyes gravitate to his exposed chest, a pinkness flushing her cheeks; a dazed look in her ebony irises before she forced them back up to the stars and quietly cleared her throat.
"There!" Octavia pointed happily to the night sky, directing his attention to the gray pod in the process of landing on earth; its parachute deploying at that exact moment.
Bellamy felt his heart drop, his wide eyes glued onto the sight that was undoubtedly bad news for him.
"They're coming to help us! Now we can kick some grounder ass." Jones announced, earning several joyous agreements from the small crowd.
"Or, we can learn to coincidence with them and become-" Dakota didn't finish her sentence; the motivation to continue her point vanishing when she noticed the look on Bellamy's face, no one else seeming to catch onto this but her. He looked petrified.
Her brows knitted as she studied his anxious features, his dark eyes glistening in worry in the moon's bright rays.
"Please tell me they brought down some shampoo." Roma voiced, wrapped up in a cushy blanket from where she had bolted out of Bellamy's tent.
The Blake boy turned swiftly on his heel, marching away as the rest of the crowd remained, still oo-ing and ahh-ing at the sky; Dakota hastily following after him.
"Bellamy!" he heard her call behind him, jogging to catch up with his quick, unrelenting pace; frowning to herself when he didn't respond.
"Bellamy, hey, hey! Wait!"
He strode into his tent, a red glow cast upon his features underneath the colorful conglomeration of tarps; Dakota entering shortly after him.
