[ clean ] your muse cleaning a smudge of something off mine’s cheek , forehead , etc . feel free to specify what and how . (it said i could specify... so what if, b l o o d fywo)
Bellamy had hoped she would have been sleeping by the time he got home, the time he came in—glancing at the clock on the microwave as he closed the door as quietly as he could, it read; 3:26am. the apartment was dark and quiet so he assumed she was asleep—that was until the living room lamp flicked on and he turned quickly to see her sitting on the couch. she had pulled out a cigarette and lit it, watching him. he quickly turned away from her, hoping she hadn’t see the blood on his face, his stained shirt and hands. he had had a rough night. their run hadn’t gone as smoothly as he would have liked. things turned ugly and an innocent bystander had been shot. while the others ran after the shooter, Bellamy had dropped to the boys side, pressing his hands on his wound to put pressure on it while another called for an ambulance. they couldn’t be here when it arrived, they had to leave—but he couldn’t, he couldn’t leave this innocent boy by himself, he was losing a lot of blood, too much blood, he’d be dead before they arrived. Bellamy we have to go. NOW. their eyes met, the boy and his, and he could see the fear in them, the anguish—he couldn’t leave him. he was sweating, his curls falling over his eyes as he tore part of his shirt to try and stop the bleeding, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he did so. he felt a hand grab his shoulder, pulling at him. We gotta go! he began to rise, eyes never breaking from the boy. I’m so sorry…. he thought as he watched his head fall back against the dirt road, eyes staring up at the sky as he took his last breath. Bellamy shuddered at the all too vivid and fresh memory, sniffing before clearing his throat, “ What are you still doing up? ” his voice was hoarse. she was waiting for him obviously, she always did when he wasn’t home when he should have been. he walked towards the kitchen sink, quickly trying to rinse off the blood on his hands as he heard her walk towards him. clenching his jaw, dark eyes focused on dark tint that stained the water as he roughly rubbed his hands together. it. wasn’t. coming. OFF. he gave a frustrated groan as he slammed the faucet level down, turning the water off. Bell… her voice was soft, usually when he was home late she would give him attitude, telling him that if he didn’t want to worry about her then he should follow the same rules, text when late, when plans have changed—but tonight she seemed to have picked up pretty quickly on how off he was. “ Just go to bed O… ” he said roughly, voice cracking as he tried to take a deep breath. he needed to calm down, but the blood on his hands couldn’t be washed off. he had killed people before, but this, this was different. though he hadn’t SHOT the kid, he hadn’t been able to SAVE him either. he felt her hand on his arm, pulling him to turn around, to face her. taking in a deep breath once more, balling his hands into fists so they wouldn’t shake he finally turned. lifting his chin and standing up straight he didn’t look at her. dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears as his jaw clenched tightly to keep his lips from quivering. What happened?! she gasped, he felt her eyes on him now, studying his features to find a wound, to find the source of where this blood had come from. when she didn’t—whose blood is this? swallowing thickly, he averted his gaze and said nothing. she disappeared a moment allowing him to let out a shuddered breath. his shoulders hunched as he leaned back against the counter, hands gripping tightly to it. what could he say? what would she think? she returned a moment later with a wet cloth, bright green eyes looking at him questioning but she didn’t speak. instead she reached up with the cloth and pressed it to his cheek. dark eyes met hers gratefully as she cleaned the blood he had smeared across his face unknowingly. the relief of not being questioned, not being badgered by her was enough to make him speak on his own accords. “ I tried to save him…. ” he spoke softly, tears clouding his vision as his gaze dropped from hers to the ground. “ I tried… but I couldn’t—he shouldn’t have been there but he was and—– ” he cut off, throat closing around words he no longer had to speak. she didn’t push for more, instead she simply wrapped her arms around her brother and he raised an arm to loosely hug her back.
stormborns
areudirty
izzy806
