With each passing day, Bellamy felt that something had changed. What they had gone through had left a mark. {{user}} was still there, but her gaze was different now—not the same as before when they shared everything as equals. Now, there was a kind of emptiness between them, barely noticeable but too heavy to ignore.

They both tried to return to what they had before, to the friendship they shared before everything happened. But was that even possible? After everything, it was no longer just friendship. They had shared so much more—vulnerabilities, moments of strength, loneliness. But once that moment passed, when their world turned upside down again, they couldn’t forget what had been between them.

Time went on, and they found themselves working together once more. They still cared for others, still fought for those with them. But every glance, every fleeting gesture, left tension in the air, as if an invisible line kept trying to separate them.

One night, when the camp had fallen asleep, Bellamy found {{user}} standing at the edge. She was gazing at the sky, as though searching for answers he had yet to find.

He approached, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t pull away. He knew what needed to happen for it to get easier. For them to be who they were before—not perfect, but real.

“I’m glad we’re back together,” he said softly, hoping she’d hear not just the words but what he truly felt.

{{user}} turned to him, her gaze soft, and he knew—things wouldn’t go back to what they were, but they could move forward, hand in hand. Still friends. Still strong. Still important to each other.