⊹*☾:･ﾟ 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒
𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 bellamy mikaelson learns to love again.
❝nothing makes you hurt like hurtin' who you love❞
Brett was the sun, bright and warm, melting Bellamy's fear slowly, day by day, moment by moment. Bellamy was the moo...
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❝ vampires don't sparkle, they burn ❞
***anonbinarycharacterismentionedinthischapter***
ONCEBRETTWASASLEEP, Bellamy couldn't run from his thoughts. He chased sleep, hopelessly willing his mind to shut off. It didn't. If Bellamy had learned anything in the last few years, there were three ways to drown everything out: fuck everyone with a heartbeat, blast music so loud he can't hear his thoughts (even though it almost always resulted in a headache), or drink and smoke until he passed out.
He never claimed to cope with his issues in a healthy way.
The first wasn't an option. The boy in his bed didn't deserve to be taken advantage of, and— despite being the source of his inability to sleep— Bellamy couldn't bring himself to leave the boy alone. Brett had been a zombie from the time they left Peyton's up until he begged Bellamy to stay with him. He'd been so raw, so broken. Bellamy wouldn't make that worse.
The second wasn't an option for the same reasons. Brett needed to sleep.
The only option left was the third. Bellamy slowly slipped away, sliding his hand from the taller boy's chest. At his absence, Brett turned onto his back. Bellamy froze, but he was still sound asleep. He summoned a bottle from the stash in his desk drawer as he stood on the back of the couch to reach the only window in his room. He pushed it open and summoned a cigarette to his free hand.
With a spark, it lit and he took a deep drag. He was careful to blow the smoke out the window and not inside. Brett didn't mind the smoke, he'd kissed Bellamy until he forgot about the lit cigarette many times, but he did seem more sensitive to the scent than most. He looked at the boy in his bed and his heart fluttered in a way it hadn't in a long time.
"You better watch yourself, Bellamy Mikaelson." They pushed the grin off their face as they crossed their arms. Bellamy laughed as they shoved him playfully, eyes light and alive, "This is not a laughing matter!" This only brought more laughter as they fell onto his bed together.
The memory shifted, still their eyes, but they were sad, filled with a million emotions they never got the chance to express, "I... I just need to get out of here for a few hours..."
Again the memory shifted, still their eyes, always their eyes, but they held no emotion, no life. They had been robbed and all because Bellamy held on too tight when they tried to leave.
Now, he was the one to leave.
Bellamy hissed as he dropped the cigarette, snapping out of his thoughts. The damned thing had burned him. Without picking it up, he launched the cigarette into the street angrily.
