#work brain

Also my mum was trying to organise me to cook my dinner and she said “so if you don’t have the ravioli -”

“ I DON’T UNDERSTAND. “   bellamy starts - fingers working their way through his beard, pulling at it gently - a mixture of feelings flooded through him. rage boiling deep in the pit of his stomach, slowly making it’s way to wrap around his tongue and slice his younger sister with damaging words. “ she’s my daughter. “ he has to remind himself that saying it, doesn’t make it anymore real. eveline was his daughter, but he wasn’t around to make decisions. he wasn’t around to RAISE    her the way he wanted too. octavia had more of a hand in the way his daughter was brought up. the strength that resided in the young girls crystal eyes, shown bellamy that octavia had done an excellent job on her - yet, he still despised that it was his sister who raised his daughter and not himself. 

his heart ached. a thousand bricks weighed upon his chest threatening for it to collapse. his world had grown smaller, leaving him to stand with the clouds -  watching his daughter grow from the place he resided for fourteen years. “ there was other ways to ensure her survival, octavia. “ words are submerged in ice before they’re presented to the younger blake’s ears. “ you could have protected her, but instead            you turned her into a killing machine. “