GRIM REAPER¹, bellamy blake

067 ━━ je t'aime

prepare ur mental

thank me later <3

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THEY HADN'T spoken since returning home. Iona had insisted on heading straight to her room, and Bellamy didn't argue, despite how much it hurt for her to leave his side- what if she was just gone again?

So now, watching her willingly trying to slip out- to leave him again- hit a nerve he couldn't quite name.

"You can't be serious," He said breathily, hurt evident in his voice. He was in pure disbelief, "You were going to leave again, weren't you? And you weren't going to tell anyone!"

"I didn't need anyone worrying about me!" Iona argued back.

He huffed, his voice raising, and suddenly, it felt as if he was screaming and crying at the same time; upset but angry, "I am not just anyone, Iona!"

Currently, he had her trapped in a corner, her back towards the wall of the bar, as they exchanged fiery stares. Iona wasn't sure how they'd gotten so close, or how he had snuck up on her without her noticing in the first place.

All she knew was that he was here- right in front of her- within arm's length, and she could reach out and touch him. He was ready to finally talk.

"I-" He stumbled on his words, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Balling up his fist at his side, he shook his head, turning to look anywhere but at her, "I gave up everything to rescue you- countless times now."

"It-it broke my heart when you were taken, and then when you were taken again-" He clutches his head with his hands, rubbing his temples in frustration, "And now you want to just disappear again. Do you have any idea how this feels?"

Iona felt her heart skip a beat- for all the wrong reasons.

She just wanted to stop his pain. She wanted to get revenge for him by killing the person that had done him wrong- but all she was doing was hurting him further.

For once, Iona wanted to help others, but like a plague, she merely infects everything she touches.

And sadly, Bellamy is no exception.

"How what feels, Bellamy?" She questioned quietly.

Perhaps then was when he realized what he said. What was the part that felt so bad? What was hurting him so much?

He turned to look over at her, peeking at her sideways. He'd never seen her in such a way before; small and fragile. She appeared so vulnerable right then, and it was all for him. She'd never shown such weakness to anyone else before.

He assumed he probably looked the same to her- heartbroken and pitiful.

But something about it was comforting to him, seeing her like that. It meant she cared about him like he did her; it meant there was a chance she reciprocated his feelings.

Bellamy let out a small little breath and met her wide eyes. Then, he gathered every ounce of courage he could find within himself. Now was not a time to hide behind fear.

"Loving you."

For a moment, there was just silence. All was quiet, even the camp behind them. The quiet murmurs faded away and all that was left was them, staring deeply into each other's eyes with an unspoken fondness.

Iona had never done this before. She'd never experienced the whole confessing your feelings thing and was at a loss for words.

What was she supposed to do?

So, she did the only thing she could think about since the day she'd first been in first proximity with him. Slowly, Iona stepped forward, reaching a hand out and resting it on his shoulder, while the other found his chest.

Bellamy felt the breath leave his lungs when she kept steady eye contact with him, a faint blush appearing on her pretty face.

"I... love you too," she murmured.

Then, she kissed him.

Kissing Iona was like touching velvet.

She was soft, lips gently caressing his in a tangle and twist of passion. They had begun a dance, one that had been spurred on not by the clapping of the audience, but by the gentle, hesitant affirmations of Bellamy's hands on her hips, and her arms wrapped around his neck.

He had decided, for probably the hundredth time that second, that he never wanted the kiss to end.

It had been so sudden, so unexpected, yet so incredibly perfect, that his lungs didn't burn as they should've, but instead heaved her in as if she was his oxygen; his will to live.

Iona wasn't one for kissing, and she never had been- considering she had never been a very romantically involved person- but she couldn't ignore the fluttering of her heart, and the uncomfortable feeling of butterflies in her stomach.

His lips were like addiction, an uncontrollable thirst for her- an unsatiable quench, if you will- for all that was her.

As if her soul had been absorbed by his mouth and swallowed down to his stomach, she felt the strength leave her legs, giving way to the weakness she was feeling and falling down into his embrace.

It had only been a short moment, but for both of them, it felt like an eternity.

They hadn't even realized they were panting, yet as they separated, foreheads touching, Iona could hardly hear the sound of her own heavy breathing in her ears, dulled down by the static overcoming her.

Everything else was tuned out. In that moment, all they saw, felt, heard, tasted, smelled; all five senses were undeniably overwhelmed by the other.

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hopefully that didn't disappoint uh-