Bellamy had spent his morning and afternoon on preparing the ship for Praimfaya. His arms were sore from lifting sheets of metal. Each step took all his energy away, his legs heavy from trekking up and downhill. He was only assigned a six-hour shift, but Miller had torn the tendon in his ankle at some point during the day. Bellamy offered to take Miller's afternoon shift, adding four hours to his shift. So ten hours later he trudged through the hall looking for Clarke. He'd meant to find her earlier, to ask about Miller and his ankle.
He found the room she spent most of her time in, only she wasn't there. Too drained to look anywhere else, he sits down against the wall and a bookshelf to wait. Peering at the shelf, he grabs a poorly bound book, the binding a mess from extra pages stuffed inside. He flipped it open and inside were drawings of both the Ark and Earth. Detailed scenes of Tondc, Shadow Valley, and the 100's old camp.
Furrowing his brow, he flips the back where "Clarke Griffin's" is scrawled in the bottom corner. Bellamy's interest grew stronger, and he turned back to the first pages. The book started with pictures of people: Jaha, Wells, Abby and a man Bellamy recognized as Clarke's dad. There were more, each dated at the top. He skipped ahead and found pages that were not dated. Detailed pictures of the camp made when they first arrived, Mount Weather, and so on. Clarke must have found her old book when Arkadia (previously Camp Jaha) first came down and continued to draw in it when she got the chance.
The pages stuffed haphazardly in the back were mostly off the Exodus and the delinquent's first camp. The newest pages were of Arkadia. The Palisade surrounding them, the bar, and people too. There was Jasper swinging across a rope, goggles in hand; from the first week on Earth. Then Monty dressed in his bright red sweater, his hand clasped in Harper's. Octavia was there twice; in the first, she was smiling ear to ear, a butterfly on her finger. The second was darker, her face was covered in war paint, hair in diagonal braids, her eyes bore into his own. Raven's picture was of her precariously standing on a ledge, blow-torching a weakened panel of the Ark. Bellamy was in there too- a couple of times. He was furrowing his brows, lips tight as he was shooting an M4A1 Rifle in the old military base he'd found with Clarke. That was when he'd taught her to shoot before hallucinating from the Jobi nuts. The next was of him in the dark, shadows cast off by firelight showing his face set in deep concentration, marked by various scars and scrapes.
The last one of him was outside, trees behind him and the sky open without cloud cover. He was smiling in this one, and his hair was unkempt, growing past his ears. His freckled face was tilted up, showing the cleft in his chin. After that, the drawings remained more of the same: the Philpott Dam and Mount Weather's hydroponic farm. Bellamy eventually dozed off, still studying the last picture of himself.