Beatrix Blake and John Murphy share an intricate history of bitter resentment, as the lines between love and hate blur, they grapple with shared histories, betrayal, and the unpredictability of their feelings.
SLOW BURN enemies to lovers.
The 100.
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"Since when are we in the rescuing business, huh?" Murphy limped, next to Beatrix and Bellamy. The girl thought she had seriously injured his leg, turns out it wasn't as deep as it felt. He could still walk, which annoyed her.
"The Ark believes the prince is dead. Once they assume the princess has met the same fate, they'll have no reason to come down," Bellamy remarked with a bitter tone.
"This wristband thing is so dramatic, we're here to save Jasper. He's the reason our sister is alive," Beatrix retorted, her frustration with her brother evident.
"I'm getting that wristband, even if I have to cut off her hand to do it," Bellamy declared firmly, his determination unwavering.
"What about Beatrix?" Murphy questioned, a sly grin on his face as he pointed out that she still had her wristband on.
"Actually, good point. Why are you even wearing it?" Bellamy questioned demandingly. Frustration etched deep lines into his face, and his patience had clearly worn thin. He couldn't understand why his sister was being so defiant about it.
Beatrix shot him a glare. "Because I don't want to be a part of anything that has to do with your leadership, or Murphy's for that matter."
Bellamy's eyes blazed with anger. "No. You're just stubborn, Beatrix."
"And what? You expect me to follow him?" She gestured dismissively toward Murphy, scoffing.
"God, get over yourself already." He mumbled.
"Grow the fuck up." Bellamy snapped, pointing his blade at her face, before glaring in Murphy's direction and walking ahead, "Anything happens to her, I blame you." leaving the two of them in an angry, tense silence. The resentment hung heavy in the air as they walked on.
The two hung behind the others, sulking. Beatrix couldn't believe she was stuck with Murphy of all people, and Murphy had no intention of being the babysitter for the girl he hated more than anything.
"Of all people to leave me with, he chooses you." Beatrix muttered with a scowl.
Murphy shot her an icy glare. "Yeah, well, I'm not thrilled either, Beatrix, but you're gonna have to get over it." He quickened his pace, clearly annoyed.
"You tried to kill me twenty minutes ago, and now I have to rely on you for my safety. You want me to be happy?"
Murphy's voice laced with sarcasm, "Believe me, it's not my dream scenario either, princess."
