⊹*☾:･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...
〚 Walls ! 〛 ‧͙⁺˚*･ sometimes you need the pain to know it's love ༓☾
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❝ i... i'm sorry ❞
BELLAMY KNEW IT HAD TO BE DONE, but he didn't expect it to hurt so much. The thought of no longer seeing the taller brunette boy brought an unfamiliar pang to his heart. Brett and he almost never talked, but he was the first person in years to know so much about Bellamy. He hadn't realized how much he missed being connected with people, friends or otherwise.
After Scott and Stiles' confrontation, he hadn't seen or talked to Brett, leaving his texts unopened. One of them had been a heartful thank you for helping him after the whole Demarco thing, verging into more than friends territory. The others were calm. A few texts asking if he was up, or wanted to hang out. The most recent of which asked if he was alright, or if Brett had done something wrong.
Bellamy was the problem in this situation— in most situations. Brett didn't deserve any of this. Bellamy had seen it at the party, despite Brett's efforts to hide it; Brett cared. He was attached. He was jealous of Lydia since Bellamy had slung an arm around her, not that he'd done it in a romantic way, not even in a friendly way, but telling Brett meant admitting that he felt it too. Telling Brett anything meant admitting that he'd moved on.
Part of him wanted to leave, forget everything about Beacon Hills. His touch on the town, on a large scale, had been minimal. There was hardly proof he'd been there in the first place if it wasn't for the damned list— or as the Scooby Gang called it, the deadpool.
But he couldn't leave. He had to end the list, stop it from spreading past Beacon Hills, if it hadn't already, and figure out how the hell someone figured him out.
So, after a week of avoiding him, Bellamy finally gained the courage to talk to him. Though, gaining courage did not stop him from dragging his feet. He made breakfast for Stiles and his dad, ran errands, finished a sketch for a painting he'd been working on for days, cast a glamor spell to hide his extra set of fangs and yellow eyes (just in case someone knew what a vampire was supposed to look like), and even cleaned the disaster zone that was his bedroom.
Dread filled him, held him back, but he wasn't sure why. Brett was kind and he and Bellamy had fun, but it was nothing more. It shouldn't bother him to think about all the things he'd lose when he ended... his situation with Brett. No more fun nights at Sinema. No more private lacrosse lessons. No more sneaking into the house with someone who knows the layout. No more waking up to that beautiful face. It'd only happened once, but Bellamy would miss it.
