Daylight |Bellamy Blake

Seven

Slumping down the cave's rough side, my ragged breaths echo the intensity of the recent ordeal. Pain sears through my burnt left hand, a constant reminder of the acid fog that had assailed us. Bellamy enters the cave, coughing and disoriented, but a sense of safety envelops us within its confines.

Charlotte's wide-eyed gaze darts around the cave, her composure shaken by the harrowing experience. She huddles on a rocky ledge, the tremors of fear still coursing through her veins.

"Ivy, your hand," Bellamy's voice, laced with concern, snapped my focus to him. He kneels beside me, his intent gaze fixated on my injured hand, it was covered in red blisters and slightly swollen, yet he hesitates to touch it. Instinctively, I withdraw my hand from his reach, understanding that the slightest contact could intensify the pain.

With a swift motion, I remove my pack and hand it to him. "There's a canister of water in there. It should help with the burns." Bellamy wastes no time, quickly rummaging through the pack and producing the canister of water.

He holds the water on top of my hand and before he pours the water onto my burns he looks into my eyes. "You sure about this?" I just nod. "You ready?" And all I can do again is nod as I brace myself for the pain I'm sure is coming.

The water he pours slowly cascades onto my burns, and I can't stifle a sharp hiss of pain. Bellamy's gaze locks onto mine, his eyes searching for reassurance, yet he proceeds with caution. I shift my hand, allowing the water to reach every burn, a grimace etched across my face.

Then he stops pouring the water and puts the canister on the floor. He turns his back to me as he looks back at the supplies he had spilt from my pack before he turns back to me he picks something up from the ground. As he holds it in front of him I see he has a makeshift bandage to wrap my hand in, good thinking.

He now slowly reaches for my left hand and I slowly place it into his gentle hold. With his other hand, he wraps the bandage around the palm of my hand and a sense of vulnerability washes over me. Gently, he begins wrapping the bandage around my palm, his touch tender and deliberate. I can't help but watch him, admiration mingling with the pain that still lingers. He works with care, securing the bandage and I feel like he truly cares for me and with a jolt, I realise I have really grown to care about him.

He finishes wrapping up my hand by tucking the end into one of the loops he had previously made, he keeps hold of my hand even once he has finished and looks up into my eyes. We continue to look at each other and something passes between us, something that makes me want to pull him closer to me. The silence between us feels charged with unspoken sentiments. A connection, deeper than words, seems to bridge the gap between our souls. I feel overwhelmed by the realization that our journey had woven a bond between us, a bond that extended beyond survival and into a realm of understanding and trust.

"Thank you" I whisper trying to express my gratitude for all he has done for me today, he saved my life and I don't know if I will ever be able to repay him.

Almost as if my words have snapped something in him he drops my hand gently looking almost bashful as he clears his throat. "Yeah, no problem. When we get back to camp make sure Clarke takes a look at it, I don't know if my bandaging skills are matched to hers" He says sitting down beside me and I let out a laugh.

I rest my head against the cool stone behind me and let out a breath, moving to rest my now bandaged hand on my lap. Then Charlotte speaks and I realise that I had been so focused on Bellamy that for a second I forgot about the girl who was also in the cave with us.

Curiosity tinged her question, drawing my attention away from the depths of my thoughts. "What was that?" she asks, her voice trembling, a reflection of the lingering fear.