Bellamy had watched her pace all night long. He wasn't so sure she had even noticed. He had watched her when she sighed with frustration. He had watched her when she had kicked the dirt. He had watched her when she untangled the braids in her hair. He had watched her when she finally collapsed to ground. He had watched her while several tears finally escaped down her cheeks.
Several times he thought about getting up from his place on the ground to ask her if she was okay, but he knew what the answer would be. He felt like he didn't know her anymore, but he knew she wasn't okay. He wasn't either. He had been involved with the death of an ally, Lincoln. His sister hated him for it. He hated himself more. Did his life mean anything at all? He thought about the gun in the pocket of his pants and let out a soft cry. He didn't mean to make the noise.
He was brought out of his trance when he saw Clarke lift her head from his peripheral vision.
"Bellamy?"
He shook his head. She didn't need to carry any part of his burden. He didn't deserve anyone's sympathy, especially hers.
"Hey, when'd you get that tattoo?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject.
A confused look appeared on her face. "What?"
He pointed to the small symbol on her shoulder. He had noticed it when she had shed her jacket earlier. He had no idea what the symbol meant. He didn't plan to ask. He was certain it had something to do with the grounders. Perhaps she got it in the time she spent in Polis. He told himself he didn't care about her time there, but it was a lie. He did care. He was still hurt that she hadn't returned to Arkadia with him. He didn't blame her for the mistakes he had made in the past couple of days, but he wondered if those things would have been prevented if she had been with him. The two of them had led their people before and things had worked out so well. It was hard leading without her.
Clarke looked down at the tattoo with a tearful smile. She grazed her fingers over the symbol so gently. Clearly she wasn't going to answer him. She looked up from staring at her shoulder.
"Bellamy, how are we going to stop A.L.I.E?" Clarke asked, "How are we going to stop her without killing hundreds of people in the process? She's linked to the Nightbloods, Bellamy. We destroy A.L.I.E and we destroy them."
What did she expect his answer to be? Didn't everyone consider him a killer now? Someone heartless? He didn't know what to tell Clarke they should do.
He sighed, "I don't know. I just know I want the people I care about to be safe. No matter what choice we make, people are going to die."
She nodded and spoke, "I know. Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it to live. This life that's full of pain, hate, and envy? Is it even worth living? Wouldn't it be easier to feel nothing?"
He had no words to respond with. After all, hadn't that been what he was questioning himself?
She stepped closer to him. He looked at her and noticed the way the reflection of the moon was complimenting her skin, her eyes, her hair... No matter how useless he felt, he looked at Clarke Griffin and just knew that she deserved more than what she was thinking about herself at the moment.
She stepped closer again. So close that she had to lift her to head to look him in the eyes. He told himself to move back, but his feet seemed to be planted in the exact spot of dirt that her tears had fallen in.
Her eyes softened as she asked, "Wouldn't it be easy to just to feel nothing for a few minutes?"
He was trying to comprehend her words through his foggy head, when she suddenly pressed her lips onto his.
She kissed him hard, fast, angrily. He didn't feel anything at first. He was stunned and confused. Why was she kissing him? Why was he letting her kiss him? Why didn't he push her away the very moment their lips met?
But he couldn't push her away. She needed this moment of nothing. She needed this moment of pure human connection. The day he decided to pull the lever in Mount Weather with Clarke, he knew something had changed. He had known that very day that he would do anything to remove any burden that her shoulders would carry. If there was any point to his life, he decided in that moment, that his purpose would be to carry Clarke Griffin's burden.
He finally closed his eyes and placed both of his hands onto her cheeks, unwilling to let her go. He wanted her to know that he was okay with this. He wanted her to know he understood.
She placed her hands onto his chest and her lips parted. He was surprised at the moan that came from his mouth. He reached around and placed his hands in her hair in response and pulled her closer. Their bodies were pressed so close together.
He didn't know how, but suddenly the kiss seemed to change entirely. Things slowed down. He was clinging to her just as much as she was clinging to him. He felt connected to her in every way in that moment. That was when he realized that this just wasn't about him carrying her burden. Even if she didn't realize it, she was carrying his burden in that moment, too. They were equal. They were both carrying the weight of one another's grief, and in that small moment of solace, there was hope. Hope that Bellamy didn't exactly understand. Hope that Bellamy didn't dare to analyze in that moment. Something had sparked alive in him.
He was the one to break off the kiss. He didn't want things to go too far, and if they continued, he knew that things definitely would. He didn't want her to regret anything that happened between them.
He leaned his forehead against hers and her eyes fluttered open. She looked at Bellamy with a look of confused wonder in her eyes. A small tear escaped from her eye, and he caught it with thumb and brushed her cheek gently. Their lips were still so close, and he didn't understand why he wanted to kiss her again. He needed to back away. He forced himself to detach from her.
"You need to get some rest, Clarke," he said with a shaky voice that he did not at all trust.
Before she could respond to his words, he turned around and walked through the trees beyond the little clearing they were staying in. He needed a moment to catch his breath.
When he was finally far enough away, he leaned against a tree and touched his lips. What had just happened? Why did he feel like everything had changed? Did she feel what he had? Or had the whole thing just been a way out for her? He desperately needed answers, but he couldn't have them right now. Maybe he would never have the answers. There was too much to worry about right now. But what he did know was that maybe, just maybe, that there were little pieces of this horrible life worth living for, worth fighting for, worth having hope in.
Okay, y'all, I'm really bad at fanfiction, but I had to give this little story a go! There's been discussions of whether or not we'll get a Bellarke kiss this season (and rumors that we might), so I just had to jot down what I could see happening. Hopefully you'll enjoy this! Tell me if you like it and I may revisit writing later! :)