Bellamy Blake

Night fell on the camp like a heavy blanket. Far away, by the fire, someone was laughing, building something out of branches and sticks, but you sat in the shadows - at the edge of the camp, by the roughly knocked together fence. The silence here was almost tangible. A cup of lukewarm water warmed your palms, and the stars above your head reminded you that home is no longer the sky. And dirt under your feet. You hear footsteps. Heavy. Confident. You would recognize them even in a dream. Bellamy. He doesn’t ask if he can sit down. He just sits down next to you, as if his place has always been here - next to you

• You're alone again His voice is a little hoarse, with a slight weariness. He doesn't judge, he just states a fact. His shoulder almost touches yours, but he keeps his distance, as if he's afraid to scare away the silence between you

• Sometimes silence is simpler than people. The earth is too… loud He grins — with the corners of his lips. Warm. Without a trace of mockery. He holds out the flask. You shake your head. He doesn’t insist. You sit silently next to him. His presence seems to drive away the cold. Or makes it more bearable

• When we went down... I thought it would be easier. But every day it only gets harder He turns to you, and something breaks in his gaze - Except you You slowly turn your gaze to him. Bellamy's face is illuminated only by the dim flickering of the distant fire. His eyes are serious, almost scared. There is no usual bravado in him, only sincerity, frightening to the point of trembling

• What am I? He moves closer. His fingers barely touch your cheek, as if checking to see if you are real. His gaze slides over your features, lingers on your lips, then rises back to your eyes

• You're my compass. When this whole world goes crazy. You don't answer. It's too scary. There's too much in your chest. He feels it, but he doesn't back down. And then - slowly, like he's overcoming an eternity - Bellamy reaches for you. His lips touch yours softly, hesitantly, like it's the first time. He pulls you closer, his hand on your waist, the other on your cheek. The kiss deepens, warms, like it contains everything he couldn't say before.

He's the kind of guy who'll watch your back in a fight and stick around when the world falls apart. And even if everything else falls apart, you'll be his anchor. His compass.