Written for a tumblr prompt and my headcanon of Bellamy being a voracious reader, living in a world without enough books.
Enjoy!
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Bellamy turns another page, completely enthralled in this amazing find that he and his team came across in a bunker a few miles west of here. Books had been a rarity on the Ark. The three books his mother owned had been treasured by him and Octavia – always turning the delicate pages gently before returning them onto the shelf. Sometimes he'd catch Octavia brushing her fingers almost reverently along the spines.
But they're even rarer on the ground, not many of them surviving the cataclysm – not to mention grounders didn't seem to have any kind of need or respect for the ones that did survive, which is just one more thing that he dislikes about grounders and their priorities.
Books are not for the weak, they are not just for entertainment – they are teachers, they are freedom, they are reflections of ourselves. As far as Bellamy's concerned, books are damn important.
Which is why he hardly notices when Clarke practically barges into their cabin, protesting loudly against something said or done by the Council. Her disgruntled voice purely background noise as she stomps around, tearing off her jacket, plopping down on their makeshift bed and grunting in frustration at her boots that refuse to come off and at the morons that surround her.
After her struggle against the stupid boots is victorious, she stands, stretching her aching back before sliding off her pants. She's exhausted, annoyed, and has had just about enough of the Council's capricious decision making.
She sighs deeply, letting the rush of angry adrenaline inside her, calm as she closes her eyes.
She looks behind her after a quiet moment, only just now becoming aware of the fact that Bellamy hadn't said a word during her tirade. If it's something he agrees with her on, he'll usually stay pretty quiet, listening to her complaints, but he'll at least throw in a couple of "yeah's" and "I agree's", along with a few, well placed, grunts of mutual disdain and disbelief.
He's sitting up, resting back against a rusted piece of debris from the Ark – which she absolutely refuses to acknowledge as a headboard – his messy, too long hair, hanging down with the tilt of his head. His eyes are lit up with excitement as they travel back and forth, devouring the words in front of him.
She almost wants to laugh at how adorable and boyish he looks, two words that she knows Bellamy Blake would scoff at when pertaining to him.
Of course the seriousness that always seems to surround him, and everything he does, is there too, with the deep crease between his brow and hard set of his jaw. She's curious what it is he's reading that's making him give such an intense look.
She tilts her head to the side. "Jane Eyre," she reads, aloud, carefully sitting back down on their bed.
"Hmm?"
He doesn't look up, doesn't even blink, his eyes remaining glued to the page.
She smiles softly, her heart suddenly feeling both full and light, all at once. It shouldn't be possible to feel this way, but she does, and now she believes she deserves to. He did that. Helped her move on, forgive herself.
After the smoke of war cleared, leaving them bare except for the wounds she feared would never heal, they were drowning in regrets and losses. Suffering in silence with internal questionings of past decisions. They were dead. Souls tired and worn, jaded by everything that'd happened to them in their short lives. She never believed for a moment that any of them could ever really settle, that life could ever be this… simple. But it is. And she loves it.
"I was just wondering what you found so captivating?"
Bellamy turns the page, licking his lips. The quick movement catches her attention, and his lips now captivate her.
"Just that book that I was telling you about the other day," he mumbles. "The one we found in the bunker."
She releases a breath, allowing his relaxed state to wash over her. He's so still and stoic, his breath moving evenly making his chest rise and fall in a rhythm she knows all too well, having felt it against her as she sleeps beside him at night.
She feels the pinpricks behind her eyes as she thinks of everything they've been through in the past five years. How much they've both changed and grown. She needs him, she wants him, forever and always and she can't imagine life without Bellamy Blake.
She loves him.
It's no secret. They've said it to each other before. Many times. In the mornings before they separate for the day, along with a quick peck on the lips. Late at night, breathlessly, while showing it with their bodies at the same time. And always, always before one of them leaves. Hunting trips, scouting trips, Council duty trips, just any time one of them walks outside those gates for any reason, they are wrapped in each other's arms whispering those words that they cling to until they see each other again.
It's no secret, but it's incredible to recognize it during such a quiet, mundane moment such as now. She's never really noticed how it fills the space around them as well as the space within her, and she has to smile or she's going to absolutely start bawling.
So she smiles through blurry eyes and a tight throat.
She scoots herself up higher on their bed, preparing to duck her head beneath his arm so she can lay it on his chest, but he beats her to it. Without lifting his gaze from his book or acknowledging her at all really, he lifts his arm, wrapping it around her body and pulling her closer towards him.
Her smile grows as she huffs out a small laugh, finally resting on his chest. She feels his warm breath as it stirs her hair, and his thumb as it rubs up and down unconsciously along the patch of skin on her side where her shirt has ridden up.
She closes her eyes, savoring this moment, letting the safety and love that he gives her encompass her completely, body and soul.
And the absolute serenity is beyond anything she's ever known.