« Dammit, Bellamy, if you move one more time, I swear to God I will… » He rolls his eyes, although Octavia cannot see him, as she is struggling to make him sit still and quiet on the stool. « Will what? Don't make me go all swear jar on you, O. »Bellamy can almost hear her sigh of despair behind his back before she catches her breath.
She does have enough reasons to be pissed off, though. It has been days since she has last tried to get him to sit and cut his hair. But he knows his sister. She doesn't give up, ever, whether it's about fighting or getting to cut, quoting her, this mess of curls that no brother of mine should be allowed to walk around with. « Don't you dare! » He also knows how to read her voice, and that one says something like 'let us fight over such worthless things so you don't think about what's wrong right now'. She's trying not to think that neither her nor her boyfriend are part of the Trigedakru anymore. And deep down he asks himself: does she regret? Did she ever think she should have followed Indra and left? She'd still be her second, would have the opportunity to be one of this generation's best warriors and maybe a leader later – who could know? But then their eyes meet, that same tone of dark brown they both inherited from their mother, and he knows she would never have left him on his own. Aurora raised them well. She taught him how to be a good man, he taught her how to be kind. To be brave. Basically everything he could ever give her. And now that he looks at her, God, he's so proud. Of who she grew up to be. Of that little girl who became an adolescent then a woman – who could deny it now? – and still she's his sister all the way. That looked like a miracle.
As Octavia's hands grab the scissors and bring them to the back of his neck, approaching the blades from his dark curls, Bellamy turns around to grab her wrists. « O, don't. Your hands are shaking. » he says quietly. That's true. Looking more delicate and fragile in his, but just as calloused, the scissors shake as she holds them still. He looks at her, carefully, on every angle. She refused weeks ago to give up her grounder braids, but she's wearing Ark clothes right now. What does she look like? The cross of two cultures he fears are hostile to each other once again. Why the hell did Lexa have to do that? She had betrayed them all, and that was still something stuck down his throat. But he pushes the though away to cup his little sister's face in his hands. She has never seemed so fragile for so long, he's almost scared to break her once again. Gently, he makes her put the scissors down and wraps his arms around her. After a few seconds, she lets go and returns that embrace.
She smells of firewood and some flowers Lincoln gave her earlier. A little sweat as well, she must have trained before. Actually, she does more and more everyday. Is it to forget? Is it to drown herself in work so she doesn't feel anymore? In any case, she's hurting « Are you alright, sis? »Her dark eyes meet his and he catches a glimp of a tear she quickly sheds. « I'm fine, Bell. Please don't... » Don't worry, he finishes the sentence for her. And she smiles, that smile that made and still makes him want to throw the whole world to flames just to make sure she'd always do. « You know what, O? Let's just do the haircut like you wanted to. Then rest. Napping for both of us if that's what you want. » He reminds her quietly of the rare nights Aurora made sure no guard would be around their perimeter and he allowed her to climb on his bed, the two of them bundled up. « Do we have a deal? » She gives a laugh. Quick and light, but still he keeps it preciously. « Yeah. Now sit back down. » He rolls his eyes at her before pressing her hands one more time and sitting down « Don't fuck it up, for the sake of any God there is in this hell of a world. »
All he gets in exchange is a slap at the back of his head and a glimpse of Octavia's smile again.