Saviors ; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥

i: Leaving The Ones You Love

How on earth did Bellamy Blake find himself in this situation? To this question, not even he himself could find an answer. It was safe to say that his life got off to an interesting start when his illegal baby sister was born, but man, he never thought he would be here. Never in a million years did Bellamy think he would be on earth initiating a war with people who have survived on the radiation-soaked planet for the past ninety-seven years.

Three years ago, Bellamy was living happily with his Mom and Octavia in their small home, and all he had to worry about was ensuring Octavia didn't get caught. Then all of a sudden, things changed, his life doing a complete three-sixty-degree turn. He got Octavia caught and his Mom killed — Bellamy would always blame himself for those things as long as he lived. And on top of that, Bellamy's life had done another three sixty-degree turn on him in the past two or so months — one minute he was living on the Ark all by himself, his Mom gone and little sister locked up and the next he was helping a hundred juvenile teenagers prepare for war. No one could've predicted this was what his life would come to, and little did Bellamy know his life was just beginning with surprises.

Something else — or someone else — Bellamy didn't predict to happen to him was sitting across the camp, staring into the fire with a bandage wrapped around her upper leg and a rock in hand she was fiddling with. Every chance he got, Bellamy was looking over in Jo's direction, making sure she wasn't doing anything to make her condition worse. His gaze was so focused on her that he had dropped one of the sandbags he'd been lugging around to make a barricade. Bellamy didn't know exactly what he felt for Joanna Murphy, but Bellamy knew it was something more than what it would be if they were just mere friends.

The fire illuminated her face perfectly — not like she needed it, Bellamy thought, she's beautiful as is. He was surely getting more distracted than the delinquents could afford, he knew this, but yet he didn't care. All he cared about was making sure that Jo was okay, but he had to keep up his 'tough guy' exterior despite it crumbling the longer he was on the ground. It's not like anyone could know about his indescribable feelings towards Jo; he had to keep his stern facade to maintain order in this camp, something Bellamy knew they'd desperately need as the night went on.

Bellamy had lost count of the times he glanced in Jo's direction, and every time so far, she hadn't moved from her spot, which was a good thing in his eyes. However, just after handing off a sandbag to Sterling, he looked at Jo, seeing her doing the complete opposite of nothing. She used a branch to brace herself as she limped over to a kid, Charlie, if Bellamy remembered his name right, and took one of the sandbags out of his hands.

Instantly Bellamy dropped what he was doing and marched over to the duo; he could care less about the relief that flooded the boy's face when Jo took a bag from his hands because she wasn't supposed to be lifting anything heavy. "Jo!"

At his call, the younger boy's head immediately snapped to Bellamy in apprehension, whereas, in complete contrast, Jo almost rolled her eyes at the eldest Blake. Jo was never one to succumb to Bellamy's supposed threatening facade; she wasn't intimidated by him when she first met him, and he was a total ass, and she wasn't intimidated now — she just couldn't place what kind of feeling it was that fluttered in her stomach every time she talked to Bellamy.

"Can I help you?" Jo sauntered as she turned to Bellamy with the sandbag still in her left hand, jutting her chin with raised eyebrows.

Bellamy let out an annoyed huff at her words and the stubbornness that clung to them. While he understood that Jo was just trying to help, she needed to be taking it easy, and Bellamy was going to do every damn thing to ensure she did so. "What are you doing?"

"Helping." She stated simply as if there wasn't a problem with her holding a twenty-pound bag, gesturing to the kid whose eyes darted between the pair, obviously uncomfortable with the occurrences around him. Without giving her any warning, Bellamy took one step forward and reached for the sandbag in her hand, and he was met with Jo pulling her hand back so he couldn't take it. "Bellamy, let me help." She demanded like it was a chastise, and when she saw Bellamy's abundant reluctance to let her do so, her face turned soft, head tilting down as she lowered her voice. "Please."