Scythe || Bellamy Blake

Bridging Space and Ground

SKYE

Bellamy was holding on to her fiercely, muscles tightening with tension. His breathing was heavy and when Skye pulled away after a long while she saw his cheeks stained with crystal tears.

She felt like she could lay down and sleep for another thousand years, until the trees around them raised the emerald canopy to meet the emerald eyes in the sky.

"Don't do that to me again," he was whispering, face contorted in anguish, "Don't do that."

She felt the short ends of her hair brushing her shoulders and she tilted her head downwards, studying the ground. The silence suffocated her- taunted her.

There was nothing but this moment. The ground underneath her, the soft whisper of the breeze. She could hear birds singing to each other through the clear skies and feel the sun on her face. It was so quiet.

Her face crumpled.

The tranquility was a lie.

"Skye?" A tentative hand reached for her, gently angling her face up to meet Bellamy's eyes.

She looked, but she didn't let herself see. She didn't want to see the emotions in his eyes. She would have rather carved out her own heart than feel for another second. Why could he understand that the silence was a lie?

"Don't do this," she heard him beg, "don't shut me out. Not now."

She opened her mouth with the intention to speak, but there was nothing to say. Skye looked around them at the peaceful forest and she saw through the fantasy.

A massacre. Finn had massacred an entire village.

Her mind grasped for something to say- if only to soothe Bellamy.

The forest was quiet now. It was peaceful and ethereal and Skye couldn't bear it.

The words escaped her mouth like a stolen scream, tripping harshly over her muffled sobs:

"You can't hear the children anymore."

Her heart.

Her heart.

The silence choked her, strangled her in its jagged edges. She couldn't feel her body anymore.

Bellamy's eyes were haunted, "I'm so sorry,"
his voice broke, "I couldn't stop him."

Skye looked around them at the beautiful world they had been given, at the chance they had to do better than their ancestors. Her trembling voice lowered to the volume of the breeze, "What a waste."

Her beautiful, fierce boy took a deep breath, steadying himself against his emotions. His legs were splayed out on the hard ground with his elbows resting on his knees. He dragged a hand down his face with a sigh, brown curls of soft hair falling through his fingers. She could see him fraying at the edges, but she didn't know how to help him. 

And now was not the right time, but she had to talk or she was going to explode with unsaid words.

Skye whispered, "Emery taught me how to dance the night before he died."

Bellamy did not move and she was grateful for it.

She went on, "He told me he wanted me to have happy memories to cancel out the gray ones to come."

And there were many, many gray memories to come.

She reached out her shaking hand and Bellamy gently wrapped it in his own, "He knew he wasn't going to make it, but I was so sure that I could save him."