we all die anyways x bellamy blake/the 100

12 / evocative

may the flowers remind us
why the rain is so necessary

song
kids
current joys

——————
Bellamy
——————

I liked the way her name rolled off of my tongue.

Charlie.

It was simple—easy. I also liked the nicknames. The way she would get so obviously annoyed by them—a roll of the eyes, or a huff of breath.

I guess that's why it hurt so much to hear her call herself a 'villain'. Even more than her right hook—which was good. She visibly broke. Everything about that girl screamed 'I'm okay' until she broke.

I should've noticed it before—we had literally talked about covering ourselves up with a mask. Sure, I had been curious. I wanted to know what lay underneath the surface, figure out who she really was.

Then, if I needed to, use it against her in the future.

That was my plan. Befriend her. Become her ally. Create a bond—become someone she could trust. She was a game, and I was playing her.

It was clear that she trusted me when she came to me covered in blood.

A mere pawn.

That's what I have to keep telling myself.

I didn't know if it was working.

Charlie continued to prove herself, everyday. Being able to keep a clear mind even when the boy she loved died. She has morals, and strong ones. Take responsibility for your actions—but death was not a good punishment.

She also spoke so softly about dark topics—up until last night. Causally mentioning she wasn't opposed to dying was a strong one.

With the way she fought to stay alive, I believed that to be a lie.

Or was it?

Either way, her issues didn't matter to me, as long as I learned her secrets.

And I learned a big one.

Charlie truly believed she was a sole reason her mother died, her fault or not.

Maybe it's why she attached herself to Octavia. They were one in the same.

One of the girls beside me snores softly and the other grips my torso harder. Roma and Bree, I believe.

Last night was... fun.

Yeah. Fun.

They were all over the bruise that had quickly formed on my cheekbone.

Thank you, Charlie.

"Bellamy! Get your ass out here!"

Speak of the devil.

I shoot up, throwing some pants on and buttoning them quickly. I don't bother a shirt. From outside of my tent, it seemed as if something bad had happened. Shouts and murmurs from different teenagers fill the air as I step into the early dawn air. Octavia and Charlie stand, looking at the sky. A small group had formed behind them, Jones being one of them. Something—a ship, was shooting through the stars, getting close and closer.