Can anyone else see the sex scene happening if Abbyâs the one to give him the Chancellorâs Pin after itâs decided Marcus is going to be the next Chancellor? Hear me out on this semi-fic thing that doesnât have actual smut because Iâm the worst, folks.
Itâs late in Arkadia, and everyoneâs just gotten back from Polis. Everyoneâs exhausted mentally and physically, and almost the entire population of the camp runs back to their rooms, jumps in bed, and is out within a minute of putting their head on the pillow.
Everyone except newly-appointed Chancellor Marcus Kane.
Abby knows where sheâll find him - it isnât difficult to predict where heâll be, not after everything theyâve been through - and she doesnât bother knocking before opening and closing the council room door behind her.
âItâs late,â she says. Itâs both an observation and a bit of an accusation: Marcus, why arenât you sleeping?
She knows the answer to that question, so she doesnât bother asking. Itâs the same reason she isnât sleeping, the same reason Clarke and Bellamy and Raven are still awake.
Six months. Thatâs all they have.
âIt is,â Marcus agrees, turning from the map of the areas surrounding Arkadia to give her his full attention. âYou should be getting some rest, Abby.â
âIâll sleep when you do,â she says, moving closer until sheâs in his arms with her head resting on his shoulder. She hears him sigh a tiny sigh as she runs her fingers through his messy hair, hair he wonât have time to trim with all the chaos thatâs about to erupt.
Clarke may have been the one to free them from the City of Light, but Abby knows how heavily this burden rests on Marcusâ shoulders. She can see it in his eyes when he looks at her, in the tension in his shoulders when he pores over maps and data.
âI have something for you,â she says as she leans back just enough to look in his eyes, rummaging around in the pocket of her jacket. For a small, frightening moment she thinks itâs lost - resting somewhere between Polis and Arkadia, submerged between countless layers of dust and leaves - but then she checks the other pocket, and thank God.
She pulls out the slightly tarnished Chancellorâs Pin, taken off Pikeâs jacket before they left Polis.
âWeâre still in this together, you know,â she whispers as she places the pin in his hands, remembering that sunny day in the market that feels like eons ago.
âNo matter who wears the pin,â he says with a small smile. That by itself is a triumph - sheâs managed to make him smile again. But he sets the pin down on the table instead of securing it to his jacket, and she worries her efforts may have been for naught.
When he looks at her again, thereâs a level of despair in his eyes sheâs never seen on the ground: not since their time among the stars. Her heart sinks.
âAbby, I-â he starts, then stops. âI have to figure this out. Theyâre looking to me for answers, and I canât let them down. Our people need hope. Theyâve been through so much.â
âYou will,â she reassures him. âYouâre going to be the best Chancellor our people have had.â
Another smile, this one slightly sheepish.
âWell, I donât know if I can live up to you,â he says. âYou were a wonderful Chancellor, Abby.â
She doesnât think so, but thatâs not what he needs to hear right now. What he needs right now is comfort and confidence, and neither of these things can be achieved on the less-than-three hours of sleep he obtained the night before.
âSomething tells me youâll be a tough act to follow,â she says with a smile, he laughs a self-deprecating Marcus Kane laugh, and she doesnât know quite how it happens but suddenly sheâs kissing him with all the force and passion she can muster at this ungodly hour of the night.
She traces her tongue along his lower lip, asking a question he answers by allowing her entrance with a soft moan. He tastes sweet, like the berries Lincoln taught her to find in the forest.
When she was under ALIEâs control, she hadnât been able to think about how he tasted. But this is the opposite of that, this is all sensation and emotion, this is about exploring each other instead of getting information.
His hands find their way underneath her shirt as they stumble toward the couch, an endearing mix of clumsy and graceful. Her shirt and boots get lost somewhere along the way, as do his, and everywhere he touches her feels like sheâs catching fire.
He pauses for a moment as she fumbles with the zipper on his pants, pupils wide with lust and love and a thousand emotions she doesnât have names for.
âAre you sure?â he asks as his cheeks glow slightly red, and itâs all she can do not to laugh. Only Marcus Kane.
She answers his question with another deep, slow kiss, sliding out of her pants as the back of her legs bump against the soft surface of the couch.
âWe have six months, Marcus,â she says, laying down and beckoning him to join her. âI donât just want to survive. I want to live.â
