The 100 Imagines/OneShot

Bellamy Blake: Slowdacing

The group had been completely silent for most of the hunting trip, afraid of scaring away any possible game. You trudged alongside Bellamy at the front group, your makeshift bow in hand. On the Ark, you had always loved guns; you spent days on end learning all about them until one day you came across the art of archery. You immediately fell in love with the traditional bow and arrow, you're parents being a little higher on the chain of command than most, they were able to convince Canceller Jaha to make you one and give you a place to practice. You spent what time you had after school in the archery room, the silence around you was blissful, the sound of the arrow cutting through the air for a split second before hearing the dull thud of it hitting the target. That is also where you learned how to make a bow when you were stranded in say, the god damn forest.

A plentiful amount of arrows strapped to your back, you continued on though the woods.
That's when you heard it. The low toned horn cutting though the trees, you all immediately stop and look around.

"No..." Clarke whispered, before grabbing Harpers hand "Acid Fog! Run!" She screeched, and took off. Jasper began looking around desperately before Miller shoved him along and told him to follow. You retracted your arrow and began running, desperately looking around for some sort of shelter.

"Y/N! Over here!" Bellamy yells a couple meters ahead of you. He was gesturing wildly at something in the ground, you wasted no time running to him as he pried open a trap door. He motioned you inside and you dropped down, him following quickly after.

"What is this place?" You ask quietly, looking around. The little bunker had all the makings of a bomb shelter. Bellamy stays silent behind you as you walk around. Quietly you pick a small picture off a desk that sat in the back of the room. A family of three stood in front of a house, all closely knitted together and smiling widely.

"I don't think they made it here.." You say, more to yourself than anyone. Your sadden expression was quickly aided when you spotted the record player in the corner. You gasped and walked over to it; you bent down to open the shelf under it and began flipping through the records.

"No fucking way." You whispered, pulling out a record. Your eyes glinted with joy as you stared down at the cover. You couldn't believe a record of your favorite composer of all times was actually here in this bunker.

"What is it?" Bellamy finally spoke, walking up behind you. You quickly stood and turned to him.

"Beethoven!" You squealed, obviously excited. Bellamy rolled his eyes and smiled, watching you as you place the record in the player and set everything up. Suddenly, soft piano music filled the bunker. You closed your eyes and smiled, leaning your head back slightly.

"I used to listen to him while I practiced." You spoke softly, smiling at the memories.

"The beautiful melody always helped me concentrate; nothing existed outside of the music when he's playing."

Slow but steady hands find their way to your hips and you feel Bellamy gently pull you against him. With your back pressed against his chest, you forced yourself to stay cool. Your heart sped up but your eyes remained closed, gently you leaned your head against his shoulder.

"Do I exist?" He asks quietly, his warm whisper hitting your ear and sending a chill down your spine. You took in a breath and hummed softly,

"Always."

You could feel him smile into your neck, his arms moved to wrap themselves around your waist and you hands rested on his. He began gently moving both of your bodies. Slowly you both swayed, eyes closed and breathing in time. The rise and fall of his chest centered you; truly nothing existed outside of this moment.