It's Better If You Do

As Bellamy settled back into her bed, she quickly fell asleep, only having been awoken enough to tell Rose that she was supposed to sleep in. She couldn’t remember what she had been dreaming before she was woken, but she knew it was something that wasn’t pleasant at all. She found herself plunged back into a dream; a dream she had dreamt over and over again.

She stood on the rocky shores of Marseilles, staring watching a loving couple, hand-in-hand. The girl’s face was covered by a thick, white veil blocking Bellamy from seeing her features clearly. The boy was all too familiar; his laugh, his smile, his dancing blue eyes, and his neat blonde hair. They were dressed in clothes fit for a wedding--her in a long white dress and him in a crisp black tuxedo--and laughing with each other as they hopped, barefoot, from rock to rock. Bellamy was dressed in a flowing black dress, a sharp contrast to the girl’s dress. They came closer to her, having an ethereal glow around the two in the setting, orange sun. Bellamy stood in the same spot, frozen as she watched the two. She trembled all over, feeling an immense amount of sadness, but also anger at seeing the two together.

Julian and his mystery bride stopped in front of her, their laughter ceasing the moment they noticed Bellamy standing there. He detached from the bride and stepped over to Bellamy, wearing the charming, playful grin she had grown to love. Julian took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently lifting her face so that she had to look directly at him.

“Vous êtes habillé pour un enterrement, mon amour,*” Julian cooed with a laugh and a smile, exposing straight, white teeth that glimmered in the setting sun. Bellamy just stared up at him darkly, not making an motions to rip her chin from his grasp.

“Je ne suis pas ton amour. Elle est,**” Bellamy spat at him, turning her cold gaze to the nameless girl behind Julian. The bride let out a musical giggle and Bellamy knew she must have been pretty from the sound of it, much prettier than she considered herself to be. Julian let out a sigh, smiling all the while, and shook his head.

“C'est vrai. C'est très vrai. Elle est et vous êtes habillés pour l'occasion, mon doux, doux Bellamy,***” he said in an alluring voice, leaning in as if to kiss Bellamy. She gave him a hard stare as she roughly pulled her chin from his grasp.

“Qu‘-est ce****?” She asked, not understanding what he meant by she was “dressed for the occasion”. Julian, looking as charming and handsome as ever, laughed. He outright laughed at Bellamy, like the girls had back at Beauxbatons. His laughter ceased abruptly and he suddenly gave Bellamy’s shoulders a rough push. She fell backwards, her arms flying out to try and grab hold of anything, to keep herself from falling back into the rising sea behind her. Her back hit the cold salty water first and soon enough, she was completely submerged. Looking up, she saw a watery image of Julian and his new bride, staring down at her, smiling and laughing. She continued to sink further and faster into the cold, awaiting sea, as if she were made of pure stone. Her vision grew darker as the water pressed in closer on her, flooding her ears, filling her mouth and nose. She couldn’t breathe and she could feel her lung squeezing tighter, begging for precious oxygen.

With a ragged gasp, Bellamy shot up from the bed, her eyes wide and her forehead damp with sweat. Instead of finding Rose in the room, Fred was staring at her, frozen as he was in the middle of pulling on a shirt. She took in a few deep breaths of air, clutching at her chest as Fred hurriedly pulled on his shirt.

“You alright?” He asked hesitantly, slowly walking toward the stairs. She had a frantic look in her eyes as she stared at the bed opposite of her. “Should I get Rose?” He asked. Bellamy blinked once and looked over at Fred, shaking her head slowly.

“N-no,” she stammered breathlessly, swallowing hard, “j-just a bad dream, is all.” Fred nodded and slowly made his way down the stairs. Bellamy brushed her fringe out of her face with both hands, sighing heavily as she felt weak and shaky. Throwing the covers from her, she stepped out of the bed and quickly gathered theclothes and accessories she would need for the day and locked herself in the upstairs bathroom.

It only took a few minutes for her to get dressed and ready. She was tired, but she didn’t want to go back to sleep my any means. She was done with dreaming, at least until she went to sleep again. Stepping out of the bathroom, she made her way solemnly down the stairs, staring ahead with wide, slightly frightened looking eyes. She wore a blue skirt, and a cleanly pressed white top. She had used make up to blacken her eyes a bit, making them appear a brighter brown. As was expected though, her lips were painted red once more and enchanted to last the entirety of the day. Her hair was pin-straight and it fell just about to the bottom of her shoulder blades. The tan Oxford-style heels she wore were remarkably quieter than the pair she wore the day before.

“She’s had nightmares for a while now,” she heard Rose’s soft voice saying, “she’ll be alright in a half an hour or so.” Wringing her hands nervously, Bellamy cleared her throat and stepped into the room. All three sets of eyes went to her and she bit her bottom lip before speaking.

“I’m sorry if I startled you, Fred,” she said softly with a short nod. “It was not my intention to do so.” Fred merely smiled to her and shrugged a bit.

“I’ve had worse things happen to me while I was dressing, believe me,” he said, causing Rose to blush a bit and giggle behind her hand. Bellamy drew in a deep breath of air.

“Well…I’ll be off now,” she said, “I’ll see you all later, then.” She began to walk from the room briskly, being a bit unnerved by everyone watching her and knowing that she had troubling dreams. She stopped and turned in the door way and gave her sister the smallest bit of a smirk. “Be careful, Rose, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” she said, earning a laugh from Rose and a nod. She turned her honey-brown gaze to Fred and smirked even wider. “And, remember Fred,” she said in a low voice as she made scissor-like motions with her index and middle fingers, “snippity-snip.” Fred blanched, but nodded all the same and Bellamy darted around the corner of the curtain.