[ bellamy stretches, reaching for his beer on the windowsill, and tips it back. wiping his thumb against the glass, he looks at her with an arch of his brow. ] I'm not going to tell you the wrong story, Raven. [ he places the glass back on the windowsill, but doesn't unwrap his fingers from around it. ]

[ truthfully, now that he knows she's never had the luxury of aurora blake telling her story after story despite informing her she's to go to bed the moment they finish their second one, he doesn't want to lie to her. shifting it around to suit his own agenda, or simply making one up on the spot, letting her believe it's true even though it's not, he doesn't particularly want to lie. even though he's sure she wouldn't read up on it until later, or even care if he gave her a version that's his own, bellamy doesn't want to give her the wrong one. it means something to him, that she's even asking for stories, welcoming them as she seems to remember the names he says and asks for him to tell her about them later. ]

You could go around and spread it. I'm not going to be responsible for that.