GRIM REAPER¹, bellamy blake

048 ━━ limits

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IONA DIDN'T know she had fallen asleep. Her dreams were blank- practically nightmares with their unending loneliness that made you question when the jump scare was coming, not if- and urged small, puffy breaths of strangled air from her throat.

Bellamy observed her closely, trying to resist the urge to pull her to his chest and comfort her in her time of vulnerability; but he knew Iona. She'd rather die than be comforted because of something she couldn't control.

So, he waited, eyes rarely leaving her struggling figure, until she jolted herself awake.

It was as if she was preparing to wake up in the arms of the Azgedans who wished to return her to her birth nation, her hand gripping her katana; the other resting comfortably on a throwing knife tucked into her pants.

"How long?"

"Mornin', sunshine," Bellamy cooed teasingly, gaining an unamused stare from the woman, eyes very much holding the threat her weaponry posed. "An hour, maybe. We're almost there."

Iona hummed, crossing her arms over her chest. At this moment, she was as closed off as ever, and Bellamy felt all the progress he'd made tumble out the window. She was putting her wall back up, and he couldn't let that happen.

Too much had gone on between the pair for him to allow her to suddenly shut him out again. No, he needed her, and she needed him; they needed each other.

Leaning into her, Bellamy lowered his voice, "We need to talk. Later."

Iona tried to ignore the feeling that creeped down her spine, but she recognized it as unease, and couldn't pretend like it wasn't there- not anymore.

Bellamy had long since learned that Iona had secrets. It was normal. He didn't know her as well as he wanted to believe he did, and that was fine, but the time for secrets had ended, and he needed answers.

She knew that's what he wanted, but she wondered if she could comply.

Her secrets were all that she had left. Her secrets, regardless of whether it appeared as such or not, were what was holding her together. Iona was a crumbling building built upon an unsteady foundation, and her secrets were the cinderblocks that remained, holding her up off the ground.

"And if I don't want to?" Iona questions, turning her head to stare right at Bellamy. She regretted it, however, as he was still in close proximity, his breath fanning her face.

He merely pulled away, not saying a word, but the look in his eyes spoke for him.

He wouldn't allow her to not want to. It was his requirement. If they were to be friends- to remain as close as they were- she had to fess up to whatever it was she was hiding. Problem is, Iona knows how he'll view her after she tells him the truth.

Iona viewed herself as a monster at times, especially when she thought back to what happened, and it was only a matter of time before Bellamy saw her in the same light.

Once a monster, always a monster; that was Iona's mentality, and soon enough, she knew Bellamy would agree.

In a sense, her declining his offer to talk was her poor attempt at keeping their friendship together and off the rocks they'd sailed upon. Bellamy was nice, she knew that, but he could only be so nice.

Bellamy had his limits, and Iona Valana would certainly break them.

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just in case u ever wonder why my chapters are so short, here's a little explanation:

i used to have books published that would avg 5000 words per chapter. however, ive noticed, when i write like this (800-900) word chapters, i dont get burned out as easily. i actually have motivation to write and continue, whereas longer chapters id never write.

and i think reading super long chapters can be super overwhelming!

just a little added note xoxo