The 100 Imagines

Bellamy-8

I stared at the ceiling, thinking back to the days when I would stare at a ceiling just like this one thinking about what Earth would be like, and now here I am, thinking about what living on the Ark again would be like.

Beside me Bellamy shifted in the bed, throwing an arm off his body.

I turned my head from the ceiling to stare at his face, in a non-creepy way. It's been two months since we started dating, two months full of complete bliss.

His eyes were closed, showing his perfect skin littered with tiny dots. His hair was ruffled on top of his head, the perfect curls that make my heart swoon.

But then I noticed how his breathing was uneven, how his hands were curled into fists, and how his hair was stuck to sweat on his forehead.

Then before I could do anything about, he quickly turned to his side, muttering something under his breath.

I then realized, he was having a nightmare.

With gentle hands, I reached over and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead like I do every morning. When he didn't awake, I trailed my hand off his face and down his shoulder, carefully shaking his bicep.

That's when he stirred.

With a big breath, the man I love was now sitting on the bed, hair glistening with sweat, and trying to get his breathing back under control.

"Bellamy? What's wrong," I asked softly, placing my hand on his for comfort.

"Just a nightmare, that's all." He laid back down on his side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling like I was doing moments ago.

So I joined him, back in my original spot. But this time I wasn't dreaming of the Ark, I was thinking of Bellamy.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he closed his for a second taking in a shaky breath. "No."

I nodded my head, completely understanding. "Do you ever miss the Ark," was my way of changing the subject.

"No."

"I kinda do." I looked over at him as I said, "Life was so simple there, here it's complex. Sure, we weren't really free up there, but we aren't really free down here either. But up there I wouldn't have to worry about you dying from a grounder attack."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, and you will be too." He lifted his hand and cupped my cheek, clearly thinking behind his big, brown eyes.

"I know you will, but I can't help but worry." I snuggled up to him and he let me, removing his hand from my cheek to throw one across my shoulders, bringing me close.

"We'll be safe." He placed a kiss to my forehead, making me drowsy. He also started to rub my arm with his hand in gentle circles, luring me to sleep.

So I eventually fell asleep, lured in by Bellamy.

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A/N:

Can we all agree he probably suffers from nightmares?

He probably thinks it's all his fault all those people died so it comes over to haunt him in his dreams, so I figured, Why not write an imagine about this?

Poor Bell