"If you respect me, don't protect me.
You can tell me, I can handle it.
Stop pretending, because we're going down."
Chapter 2:
Wells once informed me the facial expression I used when I was equally pissed off, annoyed and determined was coined my 'bitch face'. I imagine it's a face that Bellamy sees quite often but today it was used for a different reason—a personal reason—that had nothing to do with survival and everything to do with the tinge of pain in my chest. I was not expecting to walk in on wrestling bodies wrapped up in pseudo-passion, but I had. I cleared my throat heavily, breaking up the scene before me. My head moved towards the flap as I indicated the girl needed to leave. She glared at me and I only glared back with my bitch face.
The half-naked girl climbed out of Bellamy's bed, grabbing a shirt and dashing out as I opened my mouth slightly to think about what I wanted to say. Did I want to scream? Did I want to yell? Did I want to make a scene out of this? I didn't have claims to Bellamy but I assumed that his near-death experience caused us to cross a bridge—clearly, the bridge broke midway and there were no survivors. It was odd how my mouth turned up into a half-smile as if the situation amused me somehow. I wasn't happy yet I was looking at him like a fool, an angry laugh slipping through my lips.
"Did you need something from me, princess?" I focused on his bare chest and the way he breathed but not noticeably. I wasn't arrogant, he was charming—I did kiss him, didn't I? There were levels of attraction for him mostly concerning his strong figure and roughly handsome looks. There was something about the way he nonchalantly leaned forward as he waited for me to address him, something about the way he was looking at me—waiting for a response other than a smile. Did he want me to make a scene?
I shook my head but the smile and laugh remained. I was not going to give into his childish antics. If Bellamy wanted to fuck meaningless people, he could fuck meaningless people. Although, I wouldn't use the word meaningless if I wasn't a tad jealous that he'd rendered me meaningless—at least, that's how I felt. "Not a damn thing from you but I thought you should know we are leaving."
"Who is we?" His eyebrows furrowed as he asked the question trying to recall a conversation we had a week ago.
"Finn and myself." I informed him, "Since you wanted to be a dick about searching for bunkers with supplies in them last week I decided to recruit him."
"You're really going to take spacewalker? The anti-gun freak?"
"Yes." I rolled my eyes before stepping out of his tent. The smile quickly faded from my face as I bolted for the drop ship to gather my things and wait for Finn to return with his own. I was a fool—still a fool because I could feel the weight of his actions weighing on my chest like someone was pressing a knee into my skin. I heard my own quiet sniffle and immediately tried to restore myself to the person I was four days ago—the person that would never kiss Bellamy Blake even on his death bed. The miracle cure saved his life and after that…
I couldn't think straight, I needed to gather my thoughts.
Personally, at the time, I thought he needed to gather his thoughts too. Obviously the only thing he needed to gather were his clothes off the ground after he fucked some body he would barely talk to again.
More than anything, I felt shock—not for Bellamy being Bellamy but for temporarily not being the person I had to be for the audacious teenagers around me. Who did I think I was? Kissing people I had to work with every single day like it really mattered who I cared for—relationships are weakness. My only job was to make sure people survived down here and I was screwing it up in hopes of what—being screwed? Being screwed over? Because face it, Bellamy Blake is and always will be "that guy" and he will never commit to a single person.
And I'm under the impression that I deserve someone that can commit to me and be honest with me. The fact of the matter is, though, there aren't many people to choose from. I've almost faced every person on the ground and I've yet to meet someone that sends electricity up my bones—the closest thing I've had to electricity is fire. As in, Bellamy makes me want to catch myself on fire.
There was Finn, sure—but that was recklessness…that was the first time without rules and the first time where I wasn't fated to marry my best friend. The first time when nothing was really expected of me except survival.
"You ready, princess?" Finn's voice broke through my train of thought and I wiped at my face and turned around with a scowl.
"Don't call me princess." I told him, "I'm no one's princess."
We stepped out of the gate and I directed a nod towards Miller who returned it sternly.
