Snowfall
"Is that?" Clarke questioned distractedly, cupping her hands out in front of her.
"It's snow. It's…snowing," Bellamy answered after letting out a breathy laugh. Clarke joined in with laughter of her own; it seemed her body could not contain the delight that fizzed in her stomach.
"I've read about it but I never thought…"
"Me neither," he agreed, admiring the sky with avidity. The feathery masses encased the pair; pasting themselves onto their eyelashes, hair and clothing. Something surged through Clarke that she couldn't quite identify – fulfillment perhaps, of a dream she'd conceived but never thought would materialize. It was that unidentifiable surge that pushed her to run ahead of Bellamy and twirl carelessly under the retreating sun. Bellamy had never seen her so at ease before, so playful. It made his stomach clench in the most tremendous way as he watched her dart her tongue out in hopes of catching a flake in her mouth.
After hiking for a little less than three-quarters of an hour, they decided to stop for the night under the shelter of a large tree that closely resembled a weeping willow. The snow that had once sparked excitement in the both of them had proved to be their enemy. The ground was now covered in it and the two blankets they had brought were no longer sufficient. All the same, they lied down – at opposite ends of the leaf canopy – and swaddled themselves in a blanket.
A mere hour had passed and sleep had come to neither of them. The temperature had dropped substantially in the last twenty minutes and shivers racked Clarke's body. She rolled herself to the other side to find Bellamy's dark eyes trained on her. His face was as hard as stone but his eyes were pleading; she nodded ever so slightly, agreeing to his silent proposal. She inched over on her hands and knees, the thin layer of snow biting her exposed skin. When she reached him, however, she stopped – embarrassed to assume such an intimate position. Detecting her hesitance he closed the distance left between them and folded her under his arm and blanket.
That same feeling surged through Clarke – it was satisfaction, she now realized – accompanied by the clenching in Bellamy's stomach. He turned his head to look down at her and their faces were barley an inch apart. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips for a few solid moments before Clarke whipped her head away. She could feel her heart beat in her chest, her throat and hear it in her ears; she had no doubt that he could feel it to. She watched as the snowflakes continued to fall sporadically around them and couldn't help but change her mind. Maybe the snow was her friend.