Beside Me
Bellamy goes in search for Clarke to bring her back to Camp Jaha. Once they find one another, it's a long trip back so they stop to sleep for the night. Cuteness and cuddling ensue.
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me as much as I wish they could :)
They find themselves sat opposite one another with a blazing fire between them, the crackle of popping wood breaking the silence of the forest. It feels strangely familiar, like that time when Bellamy told her that killing those Grounders outside the dropship was necessary, that it wasn't her fault. That same comfort is here again, after so long. A smile dances across Clarke's lips. That boy who always knew what to say, who was such an expert in just being there.
"I missed you, Clarke," then after a beat, "we all missed you." Bellamy looked at her through the flames with what could be described as a small but sheepish smile. It was strange to see his face free of scars and blood. Now that there were no constant battles, no gunfights, no hurt, his face had healed. It was smooth except for the sprinkle of his distinctive freckles that has seemed to have deepened from the sun and heat of the recent months. Had it been that long?
"How is everybody? Raven and Jasper and Monty?" Clarke's voice wavers slightly before she can continue, "And my mom?"
"They're all perfectly fine. You don't need to worry," Bellamy reassures.
Clarke notices that he doesn't say "we're fine".
"I left them, Bellamy. I was so selfish and I just left them when they probably needed me most," she says.
"Well, actually, we functioned just fine without you, Princess," Bellamy's voice lightens as his sarcasm she missed so much returns. His smirk drops slowly though when he is unsure whether Clarke is in the mood.
A ghost of something plays on her lips and her cheeks crinkle in the slightest. How long has it been since she's smiled? Bellamy seems to notice that his humour has worked and beams broadly. The fire continues to burn in the darkness. As much as she just wants to remain in this comfortable present with Bellamy, to not have to think about everyone she left behind at camp or those who would lie in the walls of Mount Weather for eternity, Clarke cannot hold back a long yawn as fatigue grips her. The prospect of sleep scares her instead of comforts her. It used to be easy to drop off on the damp leaves of the forest ground, but after seemingly endless weeks alone doing just that, sleep had become the place of isolation and nightmares.
"Hey, it's been a really long day, you should get some sleep," Bellamy senses.
Clarke is adamant to stay awake, "I'm not tired." This comes out as anything but convincing though as another yawn escapes her.
"Right. You're real energised," he quips.
Bellamy leans over and passes her his backpack, "Pillow?"
Clarke had left hastily and had had nothing on her during her time of absence. She'd been making do with logs, piles of discarded flotsam and the like.
"What about you?" Clarke asks.
"Now I'm actually not tired," Bellamy grins and gestures at the pack again, "just take it."
She lowers herself onto the ground and stares into the embers of the firewood. Just before her eyelids close with heaviness, she says "I missed you too, Bellamy."
She wakes up with a start. Something there, something horrific. Her body is shaking but as she blinks away sleep she realises it is out of cold rather than fear. The fire has completely burnt out, making the darkness suddenly feel all too large, all too exposed. Her teeth chatter slightly in her mouth as a breeze passes, upsetting a few leaves and sending her hair in tangles. Whilst she was gone, her jacket had been ripped apart then abandoned when Clarke once got snaggled in tree branches on her personal search for somewhere, anywhere really.
She hears a shuffling and glances over at Bellamy. He'd just woken up and brings a hand up to rub his eyes. "Clarke?"
"I'm fine, go back to sleep. I'll take the next watch anyway."
Bellamy sits up properly and assesses her face. "We don't need to take watches anymore, remember?"
Of course. Despite the broken alliance with the Grounders, it was now civil between them. They had nothing to fear from them, and now because of her, nothing to fear from the mountains either.
"Are you alright?" Bellamy asks. He seems to notice her shivering because he gets up to move beside her from his place opposite. He takes his heavy jacket off and drapes it over her shoulders. His hand lingers by her shoulder as he considers whether or not to move her hair but he decides against it, shaking his head just an inch, pulling the jacket further over her shoulders instead. The jacket is still warm from his body and the enveloping heat feels like an embrace.
"Better?"
"Very. Thank you, Bellamy."
"Okay. Try to get some more sleep." Bellamy hesitates as if he's going to say something else but clears his throat instead. He begins to move to go back but Clarke touches his shoulder to stop him.
"Bellamy?" His name rings out in the quiet of the night.
He turns to look at her, really look at her, and suddenly everything feels deathly quiet and sensitive.
She barely whispers it out. "You could just stay here?"
Whether it's the fatigue that still hangs over them, or the chill, Bellamy doesn't press this. He positions himself in a lying position beside her and props an arm behind his head. Clarke lowers herself to the ground, thankful for the new heat of his jacket. Although she asked for this, Bellamy's closeness suddenly makes Clarke uncomfortable. She looks over at his body and realises that she could simply extend her arm out and they would be touching. Bellamy's breath is already regulating. The peacefulness of his expression calms her and Clarke closes her eyes.
At some point in the night, they had shifted. As Clarke begins to float out of sleepy consciousness, she's aware of a weight on her body. She's lying on her side facing the ashes of last night's fire and expects to see Bellamy on the other side of it as she languidly blinks, when she remembers. She feels a slow breath on the back of her neck before she notices the arm that's draped over her waist. He must be mirroring her, lying on his side facing her. He must also be frightfully close considering the fact his arm wraps the entire way around her, his fingertips grazing the soil of the earth by her own hand. She feels the tickle of one of his curls on her cheek and all Clarke can think of in her half-awake state is that she is definitely no longer cold.
Their hands are achingly close to one another and she considers reaching for his, just to touch his thumb with her little finger, to trace the grooves and creases and curves, when he moves. Bellamy lets out a large sigh and the arm is gone from her side as he rolls over onto his back. The absence of his contact is immediately stifling. Clarke hadn't noticed how comfortable and natural it felt before it was gone completely, leaving her feeling like something was missing.
She turns over herself onto her other side to face him. His mouth is slightly parted and the arm that hadn't been round her is stretched above his head. This must have caused the bottom of his t-shirt to rise, revealing a slither of skin above the waistband of his trousers which is quite possibly the most attractive thing Clarke had seen in a long time. Bellamy's chest rises slowly and evenly, his head tipped towards her. Clarke notices that his freckles are so much more intricate up close and a heat in her stomach lurches as she refrains from reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek. She closes her eyes.
And then something creeps up in her mind. Her body aches for his contact, to feel his body heat directly under her skin, to feel another human being after being starved from companionship for months. It may have been the fact she was still half-asleep but Clarke very slowly shifts towards him without thinking and tentatively leans her head on his chest, just under the shoulder where the crook of his arm begins. She then wraps her outer arm around his waist, finding that they fit together comfortably. It almost feels familiar, like home. Her eyes remain closed as she sinks into him, inhaling every sense of Bellamy.
Clarke doesn't know if Bellamy was in fact awake, or whether like her, his sleepy stupor moved his limbs for him, but the arm that was stretched above his head comes down and around her, pulling her even closer than she already is. Just when she thinks this is a chance movement in the middle of his slumber, she feels something far gentler and yet so much more intimate. The flutter of Bellamy's lips grazes the top of Clarke's head, the movement minute yet filling her with insurmountable warmth. The gentle kiss is tender and she thinks to herself that she doesn't want anything else, just this, this closeness here with Bellamy that's enough to make her truly happy.