Well, that was alright, Bellamy supposed. It was hard to tell if the fellow was actually in the right spot or not when the cloud was still covering up the sun, but they'd know soon enough, he supposed. In the meantime, at least he hadn't run his hand through his hair again and pushed it all back. Though it did look different than it had the last time he'd been here, didn't it? Maybe it was Bellamy's imagination, or a faulty memory (sometimes he did wonder, particularly after his father had started going a little odd, whether he would notice if he started slipping, mentally, or whether it would just happen and he'd still think everything was going just as it should). Maybe it was just that curls didn't fall the same way twice; this fellow's hair might be as unique as a snowflake at any given moment.

Well, time would tell. Bellamy wouldn't really know for certain until the sunlight hit it again.

"Alright, just wait there," he instructed, with an impatient glance towards the clouds above.

---