ISABELLE, bellamy blake [CURRENTLY EDITING]

fifteen

isabelle
bellamy blake 𝘹 fem!oc
© WANDARYEN ──── 2024

      

Isabelle laid on her stomach across her bed that was connected with Octavia's. She had taken a short break from her daily projects to catch up on reading the few books Finn managed to find her.

She hasn't been able to find moments like these where it was just herself and a few books to get her imagination flowing. When Isabelle flipped the next page, she picked up her piece of fabric that she used for a book mark and tucked it in between the pages before setting it off to the side.

Rolling over onto her back, she stared up into the ceiling of her and Octavia's tent, a small breath leaving her lips.

Upon exiting the tent after rotting in her bed for several hours, she swung her jacket over her arms and zipped up the front to keep her warm.

Octavia was moving around inside a small makeshift house specifically meant for smoking the meat. The idea was brought on by Bellamy and was immediately built in the morning. Both Octavia and Belle share the same job, but in shifts. Octavia was kind enough to give Belle a break, knowing how desperately she needed time to clear her head after the accident.

Belle hadn't thought about her parents much, but the wound was still fresh in her mind and whenever she got a moment alone to think about it; it was like someone pouring salt onto an open wound. But Isabelle was strong enough to grin and bear it. She wasn't the only person who had lost family, she wanted to cope to be strong for the others. The people in camp who were almost, in a least psychopathic way, like a family to her.

Isabelle watched as Murphy exited the smokehouse, wiping his hands on his jeans then collecting more wood to place off to the side. When he had looked up from his work, he caught Belle's attention and she gently smiled. He returned the gesture with a small nod, shifting back into the smokehouse.

Her smile slowly faltered until she turned from the tent and started walking. She watched as others had been working, several taking small breaks to drink water, then found Bellamy off in the distance speaking to one of the boys in camp. His arms were crossed over his chest, his facial expressions a mixture of pain and frustration. Sometimes Bellamy was hard to read, but Belle knew he could be gentle. It just took some time for him to relax.

She wanted to greet him and see how he was doing after suffering from the disease that lingered around camp. When the boy walked away and Bellamy looked up, his eyes shifted over towards Belle and she smiled sweetly. Not the kind of smile she'd give Murphy, or Clarke, or even Finn.

When she saw Bellamy, her chest was no longer tight in bounds. It didn't feel like the whole world was trying to park itself on her shoulders. She felt completely free and comfortable, to say the least. But when Bellamy wasn't returning any warm gesture, her smile faded and worry started to flood into her mind.

Bellamy nodded his head in a direction for her to follow. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and followed after him, her boots scuffing across the dirt and rocks on the ground. They were hidden behind the walls of camp, but further away in distance where no one could hear. Bellamy dismissed the few guards keeping watch, sending them off to make themselves busy as Belle finally caught up.

She watched the guards disappear before turning to look up at Bellamy. He showed her the same expression he shares with others. The stern, hardworking, leadership look. Something he's never shared with her before and this made her stomach turn in the worst way.

"What's going on?" She asked softly, swallowing the nervous lump down her throat.

"Why are you here?" He crossed his arms over his chest, his left eyebrow slowly lifting.