OUR OBLIVION | BELLAMY BLAKE

SIX| our little secret

Another week had come and gone. I stood in frustration on Friday as I stared up at the whiteboard in the guards' training room. I was still number eight out of ten, but Tuesday was when the sparring started. If I could win at least one spar, then my name would probably move up a little bit.

Surprisingly, no one had quit yet. Murphy was even still there, but he didn't bother me. After my rage fit last week, he barely even made eye contact with me. It seemed like he actually felt bad for what he said, but it was hard to picture Murphy with actual human emotions, so I figured that maybe he was just learning to leave me alone. 

Wells and I's relationship actually seemed to be getting better. He wasn't as judgmental, and I was more open with him. We hung out more, and I actually had begun to enjoy spending time with him again. However, I was still unable to say those three stupid words to him. I love you. I probably never would be able to say them, because if I did it would just be a lie.

Also, my dad kept bringing up the Annual Star Festival which was happening in approximately six days. He would tell me that I needed to go since I would be finishing my classes soon, and how he went to the one the year he graduated and actually had fun.

But, I couldn't picture myself having fun at that festival full of ass clowns. Even if everybody was going, I would blow it off to actually do something that didn't make me want to jump out in space and die.

Basically, I had so many situations stressing me out, and I needed to blow off some steam. My usual tactic would be to head down to The Loft and see what Jasper and Monty had cooked up down there, but I wasn't in the mood to get drunk. I was in the mood to hit something. Preferably Murphy's face, but he wasn't around.

So I found myself in the back of the training room hitting a punching bag over and over. I was alone in the room. All of the guards were out for their shifts. It was also past curfew, but I honestly didn't even care at that point.

My hair was up in a tight ponytail as sweat rolled down my face. I had pulled off my blue sweater and was left in my simple black tank top. Anger and frustration fueled my every punch or kick, and I was too caught up with beating up the punching bag (Which I pretended was Murphy's face) to notice someone stepping into the dim-lit room.

"You're out past curfew," A familiar and deep voice stated. A voice that made my heart jump in my chest and excitement fill my body, "and you have terrible form."

I continued punching without turning around, "I appreciate the confidence boost."

I heard Bellamy coming closer, and before I knew it his hands were on my waist as he fixed my stance. My breathing hitched, and his touch sent electric shocks through my veins.

"There. That's better," But, he didn't step away. Instead, he grabbed my wrists and pulled them higher in front of my face. "And keep your fists high, so you can protect your face easier."

In an attempt to hide Bellamy's effect on me, I turned to my rudeness, "Don't you have a job to do? Halls to patrol? People to arrest?"

"I'm on my break, but you seem really eager to get rid of me," Bellamy answered with his lips turning up slightly.

"Well, maybe I just don't like your company," I spit out as I threw another punch. He still hadn't moved away. His chest was almost pressed against my back. "Is personal space a foreign concept to you or something?"

Bellamy only moved closer to me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, and the action sent chills running down my spine, "Usually, girls like it when I invade their personal space."