#ic. meme.

                 smooch meme. @raisedbetter                  58. neck kiss

                 it’s another bad night. more often than not they are, but the rain outside is loud and hits the walls of the house so hard that johanna is sure they’re going to melt away and she’s going to be pelted with the bullets of water. she clings to bellamy, feeling so fucking small, and tries to feel the heat of his body and the calm and steadiness he brings. he speaks every now and then, his voice low and quiet, blanketing over her and near her ear. it’s all she can do to listen to it and try to hold on. to try and not drown inside of herself.

                 she can’t pull in a full breath. as if she’s underwater or some shit ; it shakes and her lungs never fill. her grip on his tshirt tugs harder as she tries to get a fucking hold of herself, as she tries to not think of a scenario where her blood fills her lungs like all the times they were filled with fucking water in the capitol cells. bellamy got himself into a lot of stupid shit because of her, she’s glad there’s at least this one thing he didn’t have to share the misery of. this one thing that he can still be the mentor for and she’ll allow it easily and let him be in control and try to get her to calm down. the arm of his underneath her comes around to land on her head and scratches lightly at the started edges of her new hair finally growing in. eyes squeezed tight, she tries to focus on the feeling of him holding her, of him touching her, of him being him.

                 she doesn’t speak much, but occasionally a curse comes out. as the wind blows heavy she’s ready for the house to fall over and she brings herself so close that the bottom of her head gets wedged near his jaw. she buries it against him, her mouth in a space between his chin and his neck for breathing room but getting closer. her senses fill with his scent, with his touch, with everything about bellamy, and she tries to remind herself of those hard facts and that it’s not water. a sorry pokes out of the corner of her mouth and he dismisses it instantly, his voice hard and final on that compared to how he’s been with her for the rest of the night.

                 johanna doesn’t like being like this, but bellamy is one of the only ones allowed to see her at these levels of the worst of it all. just like she knows she sees some of the pieces of him others aren’t allowed to. if it was up to them, they’d be alone in these miserable moments. but johanna mason will at least admit to herself that she is glad she is not alone tonight. she feels the way it feels her veins are crawling out of her skin in want and need. if she was alone she’d find that hidden stash of morphling she kept in case of emergencies, or whatever other excuse she’d want to use.

                 i’m sorry is almost passed her lips again when she pulls it back. it’ll do nothing. her breath is still ragged but she can pull in more air as time passes. that’s all she’s allowed to use as a crutch for this. head doctors be damned, she doesn’t know any of their shitty coping techniques. she has bellamy, and she has to learn to get a patience. and it being a patience for herself ? seems pretty fucking impossible, if she’s being honest. but she tries her fucking damnedest for at least one deep breath in, one deep breath out. it takes a lot of concentration, something about the idea of having to put forth that amount of thought in not drowning making her again feel so weak. but bellamy says something -–– she isn’t sure what. all she knows is she has to depend on him entirely tonight. her hands re-grip upon him and she settles in heavier against him.

                 it’s going to be a long night. she knows that she won’t sleep and probably bellamy won’t either, in the idea of watching over her. a protection she more than once lashed out at him for, reminding him that his fucking younger sister is dead so don’t fucking baby me, blake ! but she needs it now. needs it and needs him to be the one behind the steadying force.