Wounds [Bellamy Blake]

Don't Forget to Breathe [Chapter 47]

                Without his strength, Bellamy couldn’t stop me. Plus, he was determined to stay away from me so that I didn’t get the virus. However, he was in the drop ship, and that was where Murphy was as well. Somehow, I needed to get word in to him, to see if he was either killing us all on purpose, or if he had truly hoped we would give him a second chance, and that we were better company than the Grounders even if we had tried to hang him once upon a time.

                I waited outside of the drop ship, considering going in. More and more people were bleeding and getting sick, and soon enough I was sure there would be more of us in the drop ship than out. Chances are, whatever this illness was, I had it in my system already. If I wasn’t showing symptoms now, it was bound to happen soon. Right?

                Clarke came out from behind the drop ship tarp, and spotted me waiting there.

                “Bellamy’s doing okay.” She told me, as if expecting that was why I was there.

                “That is good to know, thank you.” I said sincerely.

                “You look concerned.”

                “You want to give John Murphy a second chance?”

                “Maybe.” She said, “I’m considering it, depending on how he is while he heals, and once he is better.”

                “You didn’t see him at the camp.”

                “I see him now; they’ve cut off a finger, ripped fingernails off… Beaten him.”

                “Yeah, they did that in front of me.” I snapped. “He told me, and I quote ‘Your end will come too; just like Bellamy’s, Princess, Octavia… and the rest.’”

                Clarke frowned, “Maybe he has had a change of heart; he is helping everyone in there.”

                I shook my head, “Your heart is too soft, Clarke.”

                “I’ll watch him.”

                “Please do.” I said, slightly sarcastically as I knew she had about as much strength as the rest of the sick people; which was hardly any.

                I turned my back on her, spinning on my heels and causing the gravel beneath to scatter from my feet. My strides were long and confident; however cocky and angry. There were many things I was angry about; Murphy being in camp, Bellamy being sick, Grounders attacking us at first light tomorrow… But the one thing that didn’t bother me was that Bellamy still couldn’t say the words to me. The reason it didn’t bother me was that he wasn’t lying to me or himself. If he didn’t love me, I couldn’t force that upon him. Still, it did sting a little.

                My bow felt light and perfect in my hand; I knew that it was the weapon for me, even if I wouldn’t live long enough to really develop the skill to perfection. It was great for letting off steam, and that was what I was planning on doing.

                “Where are you going?” Jasper asked, who was watching the perimeter.

                “Shooting.” I told him, looking at his gun and grimacing. “You gonna let me through?”

                “It’s dangerous.”

                “It always will be, in here or out there.” I said, “Move, please.”

                Jasper made a face, but stepped out of the way. He didn’t bother helping me with the door, but I didn’t need assistance anymore; my ankle was well healed and I was feeling much stronger knowing I could breathe at last once outside the walls. Grounders probably weren’t lurking; but rather gathering up all their resources for the war, saving their energy.

                Little did I know, I was wrong.

                Setting up a small piece of tarp on a wide tree as a target, I stepped back about twenty yards. First things first was aim; I had to perfect it. After that, distance wouldn’t be too difficult. Movement after that. But in the present, I was focusing on aim. In my mind, the target was Murphy. Then Anya. Then the guard. Then Jaha. My mind ran through all the people who had hurt me, and my aim seemed quite a lot better than the previous day. Almost all of my arrows made it into the tree, and most of those on the small tarp-target I had made.

                With one more arrow to show before having to gather them again, I gripped the slender arrow between my middle and index finger, holding tightly so that it did not slip by accident. My other hand held the wooden bow, sweat between my fingers making the grip less than I had intended; but the day was surprisingly hot and I had worked up a bit of a sweat trying to shoot my arrows perfectly.

                “You’re getting better.”

                My eyes widened as Bjorn’s voice was recognized in my mind. I heard him before I saw him, however. Out from the darkness of the thick trees, he appeared, clad in all black except above the neck. He strode into a glimmer of sunlight and his eyes seemed to glow in that moment. As blue as the ocean I had never seen, without a doubt.

                “You’ve been watching me?” I asked.

                He chuckled, a sly grin on his lips. “You left the camp; and we were here first.”

                I knew he was referring to his people, the Grounders, having been on Earth far longer than the horde of teenagers that I had been sent down with. “You have me there.”

                “Let me show you.” He said, his hand lazily pointing towards the bow.

                I reluctantly handed it to him, my hand brushing his gloved one.

                “This is one of ours.” He noted, “Where did you get it?”

                “My… friend got it for me.” I didn’t know how to explain what Bellamy was to me. Did they know the term of ‘boyfriend’?

                “It’s a bit worn down; probably left behind.” He explained before stepping towards me so fast that I flinched. He stepped behind me, handing me the bow. My fingers slipper around the wood and I could feel Bjorn’s body pressed against my back as he curved around me. His hand was placed on top of mine, adjusting my fingers so that they were spread out ever so slightly on the grip. His hot breath on my neck gave me shivers that started in my spine, and ended between my legs. His other hand pressed down on my shoulder, forcing me to lower them. I was tense do to him being so close and quite intimately at that, but I made my body relax as much as possible.

                “Don’t forget to breathe.” He said in my ear, nearly startling me, but I made myself remain still.

                I took a deep breath.

                “Release.”

                The arrow slipped between my fingers; hitting the target dead on.

So, apparently a whole lot of you are liking Bjorn more than Bellamy! This is a Bellamy fan fiction, so you do have to understand I have some guidelines to follow. It is, however, my own story, and I can do with it what I please. So, with that said, I'm still unsure how I want to play this out in the long run, but I promise I will figure it out! I have two ideas bouncing around in my mind.