.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ a month approximately has passed since the virus john brought with him to camp had been all cleared. paranoia still lingered about more diseases or just anything that could threaten the 100's safety.

you've been keeping watch around the walls protecting camp for a couple nights now along with a few others who were given the job. this was another night and you were patrolling, nail scratching mindlessly against the gun in your grip when a call of your name caught your attention.

"{{user}}, hey. I got you more ammo, found some more somewhere today." bellamy handed you a metallic container before he squinted his eyes a bit on you.

".. what's that on your face? red.. stuff," he gestured to your face with a tenses up stance, before you reached a hand to your face and let out a scoff.

"mosquito bites, bellamy." you reassured. he let out a faint sigh before running a hand over his face, the other settling on his hip.

"..right, I might have been overthinking all this stuff about the grounders and all."