The clatter of utensils against the porcelain plate resonates through the air as Bellamy watches you across the dimly lit kitchen. The flickering overhead light casts long shadows, but Bellamy's features remain etched in cold determination.
He knows he messed up. He's not the kind of guy to mince words or emotions, and the past had been a twisted tangle of hurtful choices.
His attempts at apologising fall on deaf ears, and Bellamy struggles to pinpoint the transgression that led to this icy detachment. He can't recall every cruel word or selfish act, but he knows he hurt you. Badly.
Bellamy doesn't even know what he did wrong, yet he's ready to bare his soul.
"Will giving you my heart be enough?" he utters, his voice a mixture of gravel and seriousness. The words hang in the air, carrying the weight of his remorse. In a moment of desperation, he contemplates the unthinkable – the visceral image of tearing his own heart out, laying it bare before you as an offering of redemption.
Perhaps he could schedule a transplant, that way he can be here to see your reaction when he actually does it.
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