AN: I'm back. This is part 1 of what is really a longer chapter, but I'm not quite done with the second half. Chapter 5 will be posted on Nov 16th, in 2 days. Until then!
-Brea
"You know that old expression, 'stop and smell the roses'?" Bellamy didn't answer; he knew that she knew that yes, he was aware of the expression. "After eighteen years, this is the first time I've ever seen real roses."
She just stood there, not moving. Bellamy eyed the line of wild rose bushes growing alongside the road. Eighteen years wasn't such a big deal, not considering that there was a whole generation – their grandparent's generation – that had been born, lived and eventually died aboard the Ark. He wouldn't say so, though, because Bellamy had to admit that he still felt a jolt in his own heart anytime he saw something new on Earth, something he'd only read about before the 100.
"God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December." He recited, voice low.
Clarke didn't look back. "Who said that?"
"James Barrie." Bellamy answered. "He wrote Peter Pan."
"Hm." She sniffled a little, and Bellamy wondered if she was crying. "I guess you could say God gave us digital recording for the same reason, huh?"
He laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." Crossing the few steps between them, Bellamy came up beside her in front of a large bush. It was dotted with pink roses, still in full bloom despite the cooling weather. In a few more weeks, this whole area would be void of color, and probably covered in snow if weather patterns were still predictable. "Well, Princess. Are you going to smell them or not? We haven't got all day." Bellamy prodded her forward with a bump of his shoulder against hers.
Clark took one small step towards the flowers, then another, until she was close enough to reach out and touch the topmost bloom. Her fingers drifted over the top of the rose, feeling the tips of each petal individually. Rotating her wrist, she let her hand drop around to cup the rose from beneath, wrapping the stem between her index and middle fingers. Slowly she leaned forward, pulling the rose closer, and Bellamy imagined her eyes closing. A full minute passed in silence.
"So? How is it?"
"It's… sweet." Clark called back. She didn't move from her place, but her hand moved to feel a few of the nearby blooms. "And sort of musky at the same time." She laughed. "Does that make sense?"
Bellamy was going to say no, because 'sweet and musky' in the same sentence didn't actually make any sense at all, but then Clarke craned her head over one shoulder and he saw her face. Her eyes were shining, whether with happiness or actual tears he wasn't sure, and she was wearing the largest grin he'd seen from her since… ever, really. So instead of making a joke at her expense, like he'd intended, Bellamy let his lips turn up into a smile.
"Sure, Princess. I guess that makes sense."