It was times like these Clarke couldnât help but reminisce over how far theyâd gotten, just him and her. How different this Bellamy, expression achingly soft with his dark eyelashes fluttering and his curls spread across her chest, was to the one she had met on that first day on the ground, all fire and rage and bravado. Theyâd been so young then. She was innocent and stubborn and free. He was smug and wild and obdurate. Not that he still wasnât, she mused as her fingers scratched soothingly at his scalp, her heart beating a treacherous rhythm as she gazed down at him, unable to mask the fondness she held for this man.
She never would have thought, that day, that very first day, she would be here. Her smile stretched into one of tender amusement as she thought of them then, fire in their eyes and acid on their tongues, so far from the partners they had become. So far from sharp muscles and soft curves melting into one on this couch. So far from her lips ghosting across his skin in a featherlight pattern. So far from her best friend, her partner, her other half. And she wouldnât have traded it for anything.
Her heartbeat skidded as his body angled closer to her, breath pulled from her lungs as a hand, his hand, rose to rub at his eyes. She managed to tilt her head back just as his eyelids fluttered open, something caught in her throat and twisting in her stomach as his soft, dark gaze watched her, exhaustion combined with something else she couldnât read. Or something else she was not brave enough to read. (Â Something else she didnât deserve. )
She let the moment pass with ease, her heartbeat still erratic as she rolled her eyes, half fondness, half exasperation. âGod, youâre insufferable.â But she did as he asked, shifting around him, something that might have resembled a blush rising to her cheeks with him so close, so painfully soft in his tired state. She swallowed down the emotion that bubbled at the concern in his groggy voice, her head deeming to ignore it. âJust go to sleep.â Clarke murmured, her head coming to rest somewhere near his, unwittingly letting his even breaths drag her into sleep shortly after.
It wasnât until after her eyes opened, dazed and disoriented, that she realized she should have listened to him, she should have left. But she didnât think about that until after a tender, foreign smile tugged at her lips when her vision cleared and his soft features came into view. After his breath ghosted across her lips. After her eyes dragged down his face to the enticing curl at his own mouth. After his fingertips dipped beneath the hem of her shirt, pressing her much too close. She didnât think about that until after, until her heart was soaring and her body yearned, until she wished she could see soft curls and hazel skin and tender smiles across her pillow every morning.
She didnât think about that until it was too late.
She wondered if he could hear it, the pounding of her heart. Wondered if he knew it was beating for him. For the rare smiles, for the softness in his gaze, for the gruffness in his voice, tired and fond and murmuring her name. She wondered, in that distant way she only did when she was too dazed to stop it, if their hearts would ever beat the same rhythm. She reached out a hand before she could stop herself, fingers brushing back the curls that had fallen into his face, unsure about how long her fingertips smoothed over the dark strands. But as her eyes dropped back down, away from the way it curled around her fingers, a soft noise left her throat as she found brown eyes staring back at her.Â
Blue eyes melted into brown for a long, silent moment, nothing but the sound of their breaths mingling, nothing but Bellamy. And she couldnât avoid the way her heart ached, the way she leaned into his touch, making his fingertips drag across her skin, the way their legs tangled together at the end of the couch. She couldnât ignore the want that bloomed in her chest and seared across her skin. She couldnât ignore that, but she knew she couldnât give in to it, either. Even if he let her, because he would, because that was Bellamy, giving and giving and never taking. But Clarke had taken so much from him, too much. So instead she just smiled, soft and maybe a little sad. âHey, sleeping beauty.â She murmured breathlessly, hoping he could hear it over the beating of her heart.
With the morning sun peaking through the window,a light groan skidded between both brims of Bellamy's mouth. Shifting his body to the right, Bellamyâs hues flickered open. He held a groggy gaze on Clarke. Â âHey Princess.â He mused faintly. Â Bellamyâs thick eyebrows twitched into perplexity. Â Most of the night was a blur, but he still distinctly remembers swaying Clarke to leave.â You stayed here with me?â Â The words crawled from his lips in surprise. Slight relief hidden under his breath. Â Lifting his body up, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, while keeping his gaze on Clarke. The yearning desire for her was becoming more difficult to dismiss. As much as Bellamy convinced himself Clarke was his best friend, co-leader and nothing more, he knew that not to be be true. For years Bellamy had cared gravely for Clarke in silence.Â
It ached at his heart when he thought of Clarke, but Bellamy would not allow his feelings to skewer his judgment, as it has done in the past. That is how people die, and he couldn't lose anyone else, especially her.  Thinking of  that possibility wrenched at his soul. Leaning in towards Clarke, Bellamyâs gaze melted into her eyes for a lingering moment.  â Iâm glad your here.â His cheeks flushed slightly, at the soft words pulling from his mouth. Tilting his neck inward, Bellamyâs head fell on Clarkeâs shoulder. â I feel a little better, thanks for that.â Moments like this were a rarity in their world, and  because of that reality, Bellamy would savor this for as long as he could.Â
Extending his hand out, the tip of Bellamyâs thumb lightly touched the lateral of Clarkeâs chin. â You know when your not giving orders to me your not half bad to be around.â He mused jokingly, with the crook of his left mouth curling into a narrow smirk.â You should smile more often.â With the words fluidly leaving both brims of his mouth, Bellamy awkwardly pulled his hand away. [ Itâs okay to admit you love her Bellamy] Maggieâs words dancing in his mind repeatedly. A tense cough gusted from his throat. Shaking his head at the thought, Bellamy quirked his eyebrows down, once again ignoring what he  knew to be true. â But uh, in all seriousness Iâve never really had anyone take care of me like that. so thanksâ  Bellamyâs eyes averted their gaze away, as he nipped at his top lip, with nerves swimming through his body.Â
His brown hues veered their glance down, until noting one of Clarkeâs free hands. Silence  once again filling the space between the two.  Bellamy  reached his hand out for Clarkeâs and  gradually interlaced his fingers into hers. The touch of her skin brought him solace, with his smile returning to both lines of his lips.  âDo you ever think about what your life would be like if I never came to the ground?â The question fell in a guilt stricken tone. Bellamy closed his eyes for a moment, taking his mind back to so many years ago. He was so young. â Maybe some people  would still be aliveâ His voice cracked with pain hitting at his words. â Or my sister, Octavia, Bloodreina, whatever you want to call her would be different.â
Bellamy still felt betrayal over everything his sister had done. Not just to him, but to  Clarke,Madi,his friends, the people who grew to be more his family than she had. From the moment they landed on the ground those years ago Bellamy blamed himself for what Octavia became, and was even convinced if he had been a better brother, she wouldnât have turned into  Bloodreina. Now Bellamy is slowly coming to terms with the notion it wasât his fault ,but Octaviaâs. War changed her dramatically, and Bellamy had to let her go. They wereât healthy for each other anymore. His eyes immorality opened again. â I saw her last week.â Bellamy paused briefly. â I donât know if I can forgive her Clarke, not anymore.â