"Where are we going?" Bellamy asked as he followed Murphy through the woods.
"I get to ask the questions, now," Murphy stopped suddenly, Bellamy almost running into him. Murphy turned to look at him with fierce eyes that pierced Bellamy.
"Why?" Murphy asked simply.
"Why what?" Bellamy looked confused.
"Good question. I'm glad you asked," Murphy smirked darkly, "Why, indeed. Let's start with why you attacked my people when we were protecting yours."
Bellamy took a step back uncomfortably as Murphy crossed his arms. He was unsure of how to answer, but Murphy was too impatient.
"More importantly, why should I let you live after just slaughtering my men?"
Another step back. Bellamy made to grab his gun that he had hanging on his shoulder strap behind him but Murphy was too quick as he slid a knife out from his sleeve and pounced onto Bellamy, knocking him to the ground. Bellamy slammed his head into the dirt, but didn't fight back as Murphy held a knife to his throat. He could feel the cold metal on his skin, giving him goosebumps. Or maybe it was something else… Murphy was straddling him, eyes locked onto his.
"So what's your answer?" Murphy growled through gritted teeth.
"We thought you were here to attack us," Bellamy finally admitted, the knife dug slightly deeper into his neck, but did not quite pierce the skin yet.
"No…I told you we were there to protect you. Wrong answer," Murphy snapped back at him.
Bellamy's face crumpled into a pitiful expression. His puppy eyes were a force to be reckoned with and they had dug in under Murphy's skin. The pressure of the knife to his neck released and Murphy straightened back up, still straddling Bellamy. He stabbed the tip of his knife into the ground beside Bellamy and twirled it into the dirt curiously, watching the blade catch the sunlight.
"Please…I was just…scared for my people," Bellamy tried to regain Murphy's eye contact again.
"The dead are dead. Blood will have blood…However…" Murphy finally looked deeply into Bellamy's eyes, "That's not my problem to deal with."
Bellamy let go of a heavy sigh of relief, his muscles relaxing and letting go as the tension of the conversation subsided.
"Which brings us to question number two…" Murphy reminded him, picking the knife back up and pointing the end at Bellamy's face. Tension returned.
"You have every right to kill me," Bellamy confessed.
"I'm not going to kill you," Murphy smiled slyly, raising a single eyebrow. Bellamy stared at him slightly surprised and incredibly confused. Murphy moved in closer to Bellamy's face, using the knife to support his weight as he dug it into the ground next to Bellamy's head.
"But I'm not letting you go back home, either."
Bellamy's eyes darted back and forth between Murphy's. Up close they seemed to be expansive blue skies that stretched deep into the depth of another world – Murphy's world. Bellamy felt like he could be sucked right in as a cloud.
"Maybe I don't want to go back," Bellamy stated boldly and suddenly flipped Murphy onto his back to his surprise. Bellamy's legs wrapped with his and Murphy looked up at him with wide eyes, the knife knocked out of his hand as Bellamy held down his wrists beside his head. Bellamy leaned forward, his nose a mere inch from Murphy's.
Bellamy brushed his lips against Murphy's. He let his weight down a little and pressed his torso against Murphy's as Murphy himself pressed his hips up seductively. Their lips collided once more and Murphy playfully bit at Bellamy's lower lip. Bellamy drew back slightly and pushed Murphy's head to the side where he ran his tongue up his neck before whispering into his ear, "I am no one's."
