A/N: Writing is cathartic for me and I found solace in writing this One-Shot in light of our current political plight. I find it unfathomable that we can cheer and get behind strong, fictional female characters and when it counts we allow misogyny to dictate the future of our country's affairs. That's my little rant for the day...Back to the matter at hand, Clarke rocks...and it is my hope that the writers eventually consider taking her down this path.
He watched her walk away, bearing the heavy burden of what was to come. Always the martyr, he thought, following her down the worn path to the familiar place she visited often. She squatted near the water's edge, dipping her hands into the cold water as she scrubbed the grime and blood away. Maybe it was something else she was hoping to wipe clean. It was hard to tell these days; her thoughts and feelings often disguised behind the mask of strength. And yet, she'd chosen him out of all others to share in that burden, leaving him feeling strangely unbalanced.
Her muffled sobs brought him out of his conflicted thoughts and he stepped out of the tree line, announcing his presence. Clarke wiped the traitorous tears away and steadied her breath before speaking.
"I don't want to talk about this Bellamy" Her voice cracked with fatigue and he squatted down next to her, looking up at the glowing sphere shining down on them.
"Neither do I Clarke"
He held her sad gaze, watching the mix of emotions cross her features. She was still mourning the loss of her lost love but Bellamy was tired of waiting for the opportune time and gently pushed the tendril of hair away from her face.
"Just this night, let's pretend you and I," he began. "Let's pretend that we don't carry the weight of our people's survival on our shoulders. That we're just two people hanging out…You, the stubborn ass know it all I've come to respect and me…well, the same handsome me" he finished sending Clarke into a fit of laughter. He smiled and waited patiently, surprising her with the intensity of his gaze. Bellamy pulled her closer, tightening his grip on her shoulders as he searched her gaze for any signs of doubt.
"Clarke…" he whispered in question, hoping his desire wasn't betraying his better judgment as he leaned forward. Her lips quivered against his but she didn't pull away. Bellamy took that as an invitation, his hunger evident in the kiss. Clarke's shaky hands traveled behind his neck and that was all the encouragement he needed as he brought her body down to the ground. They ignored the dropping temperature as clothing was removed, finding warmth in their embrace. The stillness of the night became background to their soft and urgent moans as they tasted, ravaged and explored. Thoughts of the coming apocalypse were forgotten to the reprieve of human skin.
They each took and gave comfort as they basked in the insularity of their cocoon. It was in complete darkness that Bellamy saw Clarke best; her walls crumbling under the intimacy of their connection. Bellamy held her naked body close, damning the nearing dawn. Their bubble would soon burst and the brave warrior knew the rising of the sun would bring back the stoical façade, he'd grown to loathe. He inhaled her scent and kissed her soft lips one last time, weakening his grip. Watching…waiting…hoping, to see what she'd do next.
Playlist
Take Care-Beach House