❝I'd rather die kind and forgotten than be remembered for being brutal.❞
( *undergoing slight formatting tweaks & adjustments -- the story itself will otherwise remain readable and unchanged! )
⠀⠀⠀⠀ Had Bellamy not volunteered, he wouldn't be sent o...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
( ミ☆ ) THIRTEEN choose your weapon
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀The rest of the day chugs on painfully slow, and by nightfall, Bellamy feels about ready to keel over and die. But he knows he has so much to live for, like his family and laugher and first days of spring, and this velvety red cake sitting half-eaten on a plate in his lap. And so perhaps things aren't all that bad. Just debilitating.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Opposite him, on the other side of her empty bathtub, Demetria glances up from the open page in her sketchbook — according to her, Seedy had fetched it for her their very first night in the Capitol. From the looks of things, it's already half full, and in the centre of her open page, currently in the works, is a charcoal sketch she keeps well obscured behind an arm.
⠀⠀⠀⠀❝You know,❞ says Bellamy, after a bout of comfortable silence, ❝I've thought about it, and... you're right. I can definitely see the appeal in cake now.❞
⠀⠀⠀⠀Demetria remains quiet a beat, her focus sharp as a point. Then, without looking at him: ❝You do realise how terrible you are at this small talk thing, right?❞
⠀⠀⠀⠀Oh, he knows. ❝Yeah...❞
⠀⠀⠀⠀A ghost of a smile appears on Demetria's face, enough to let him know she finds him amusing. ❝Just ask what you want to ask me already. It's the whole reason you came in here, isn't it?❞
⠀⠀⠀⠀❝Maybe I came in to annoy you.❞
⠀⠀⠀⠀❝Bellamy,❞ she gives him a funny look, ❝you always annoy me.❞
⠀⠀⠀⠀He pokes his tongue out at her for that one, and she flicks his arm in return.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Honestly, Bellamy came in here because there isn't much else to do when his mind is racing, other than sit and rot alone with his thoughts. But now that she says it, he really does want to know something. And so he braves up to ask her: ❝Actually...❞ He hesitates. ❝Today... When you told me you'd never fought anyone before? That wasn't just something you said, was it?❞
