⊹*☾:･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...
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❝ why didn't you call me sooner ❞
MIDNIGHT AIR DRIFTED INTO BELLAMY'S ROOM FROM AN OPEN WINDOW. The teenage immortal seemed peaceful, secured in many layers of blankets to keep him warm. His body contorted in a position that could only be found in sleep. Sleep was the one place in the world where Bellamy Mikaelson could find the peace necessary to let go of his numerous worries.
The open window had started as an accident. He left it open after a smoke break and simply forgot to shut it. However, since that night, he found that he slept better with the natural breeze and smell of the forest. The added bonus of it being an open dare for someone to attempt something stupid, was just that, a bonus. He only closed the window if someone important were in the room, or when he wasn't home.
At first, the buzzing of his phone did not affect Bellamy. He stayed burrowed, comfortably in his mass of blankets. It was only after the call went to voicemail and it came through a second time that he began to stir. His eyes slowly forced themselves open as he groaned loudly and answered the phone without checking the ID.
"Somebody better be fucking dead." Bellamy growled as his eyes shut once again, chasing the sleep that had just been once again interrupted by another McCall pack problem. Sure, he could blame the assassins, and in truth he did, but it didn't change that Scott had called him one too many times.
There was a lot of movement on the other end and static to interrupt whatever his enhanced hearing would make out otherwise. He was beginning to regret his harsh tone when the person on the other end of the phone spoke up, only to be cut off by more static, "Bel—"
Ice shot through Bellamy, "Brett?" Bellamy pushed himself off of his stomach and sat on his knees.
The phone cut in and out, struggling to relay all of the noise that was going on. Brett's whispering didn't help matters, either, "... n...d hel..." Silence followed on the line, but Bellamy was already out of bed and finding random clothes.
"Where are you?" Bellamy demanded, heart in his throat.
"Lori... me... a... Dev... ...ep."
"What?" Brett repeated himself, but even still, Bellamy was lucky to get every fifth syllable, "Devenford? Are you saying you're at the school?" That couldn't be right... Brett was supposed to leave days ago. Why wouldn't he say something sooner?
"Ye... ...ide..."
"I'll be right there." Bellamy swallowed whatever anger he harbored for the hurtful truth. It could be handled later. For now, all that mattered was that Brett needed him. Bellamy would never leave his call unanswered, nor would he let Brett suffer.
